Writing loses all credibility when it flows from my own head. Still, part of learning to be a writer is being comfortable with writing crap daily. As such I'll be writing the second half of my story later this week. I realize that my style hasn't really developed yet so everything is worded very blandly. Time to start reading the dictionary! :P

Alright alright, time to rest up... another hellish week of work and classes and squeezing in studying and reading and writing... meh... Whatever, it's all part of my plan to take over the world... patience precious... patience... bwhahahahahah!

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Dislaimer: Cliche and silly but nonetheless mine. I've decided to post some of my practice writing here from time to time, starting with this short story. Any comments welcome.

START FICTION:

Imagine a bar/club type environment located along the street of a small town. Lighting is slightly dim, but bright enough to be noticeable in the night when the door was opened. If you entered from a perfectly centered door you'd see a square room with a bar along the near left side wall. Different shaped tables and chairs would be scattered and a small stage would be setup at the wall farthest from you. In the far right corner would be doors entering to the kitchen and maybe stairs leading upstairs to staff offices and dressing rooms. In the far left corner of the room, doors to the restrooms.

Now add people, perhaps a muscular bartender with one of those fancy, tight fitting white t-shirts and black slacks. Generic but he'll do. The waitresses are also cookie-cutter cut with their colored, collared t-shirts and dark pants. The patrons will be mostly in their twenties, but other generations will be present too. They're all dressed like they listen to rock, because on stage a rock band will be playing. Most are taking in the performance, others commenting or chatting among their tables. The place isn't packed, perhaps just a hair over half-full. Not it's busiest night, probably a Wednesday.

And now the story. I walked in to the last half minute of a song titled "Always on Time". Ironic. The lead singer of the band was an old friend of mine, Adam Porter. I'd never heard him sing before, so the quality of his voice was surprising: smooth and strong. I walked up to the bar and had myself a drink while Adam winded down. Applause.

"Alright, we'll be takin a 15 minute intermission. That means we're gonna be back so fuck you if you leave on us."

Laughter. He had the type of charisma that could pull off jokes like that...

"Just joking. But please stay. See you in a few."

...and still seem polite and well mannered. I set my drink down and walked over to catch him before he went upstairs. Before I moved out, I used to play in a band with the guy. He used to drum and I was the lead singer/guitarist frontman throughout our short-lived High School career. It was interesting to see him settle down as a vocalist, since drumming was his stronger suit.

Me: "Adam!... Adam!!!"
Adam: "Wassup? Hey... Jake?"
Me: "In the flesh!"
Adam: "Woah man, it's been years! How've you been? Whatcha been up to?"

I traveled the country with some money I had saved, just like I had always wanted to. Then I settled down in New York City renting out a lil place in Manhattan. The rent was a lil steep, but was drawn to the place and it was cozy. I played with several bands there but right now I was doing solo work. I couldn't really find guys dedicated enough, or amtitious enough, or just plain sober enough. The one band I did fit all of that criteria broke apart over cash when we managed a single on the radio. But that's not why I was home.

Adam: "So what brings you back to this neck of the woods, eh rock star?"
Me: "Hah! Rock star or not theres only one reason anyone comes back to this place. Mine's sitting two tables behind me."

He glanced and then nodded lightly. It was my former next door neighbor and best friend. Jenny Clemens. I guess, you could almost say we were a couple. It was sort of an awkward thing between me and her, the chemistry was there I think but neither one of us had the bravery to come out with it. Till this day I blame myself for being a coward. The day I left this place, she was supposed to come with me, but at the last second she decided she couldn't. Her dad needed her to take care of his drunk ass, even if it meant a lot of suffering and sacrifice on her part. I needed out with or without her. I wrote her letters, postcards, and calls from payphones the first few years. Once I settled down in the city and my life got busier I had to ease up a bit. Now there she was with her boyfriend of 3 years enjoying a night out.

Adam: "Did you-"
Me: "Not yet. Hey I know you gotta be back on stage in a bit so I'll let you get some rest."
Adam: "Right right, catch me afterwards and tell me what you think of the show."

A handshake and then, pulling me close, "Look sharp, but look genuine." It was easy to sound unhurt in letters or disguise a voice in phone calls. He was right, pulling this off in person would be tough. Ah well, time to face the music. I turned around and slowly made my way to her table. When we made eye contact she immediately got up and ran over to give me a hug. It was surprising, but also a lil stinging. It was like saying, "You were, are, and always will be just a good friend." It was punctuated with her saying, "I've missed you, you big dork!"

I set her down, "I've missed you too!" I looked at the guy sitting at the table, who was now standing up. I offered him a handshake, "Jake. You must be Hal, I've heard good things bout you." And many complaints as well. Nothing serious, just girl chatter. He looked like a shady character though, and I'm sure she left out some convenient fallacies of his, just in case I was serious bout comin back to town. I'd have wiped the floor with him in an instant. Anyway, seated back down we proceded with the usual small talk. Since Jenny and I talked regularly there wasn't too much to update. I suppose thats why plenty of awkward silences came about.

"We're back folks, miss us?"

More applause. Adam was definately the rock star around these parts.

"To open the second act we have a lil surprise for you. I just found out that an old friend of mine, Jake McGinely is in town. Jake, stand up will ya?"

Applause for me? I stood up a lil shocked. I looked around and noticed some people murmuring. I guess they liked my work.

"Jake and I used to jam together back in High School. Hey, how bout coming up and playing a lil something for us, eh?"

Louder applause and a drunk man shouting "Yea!". Now I was really confused. I thought that "rock star" comment a while ago was just a playful jab between old band buddies. Did he mean it? Either way I had to politely decline. I was in no condition to perform.

"Oh come on Jake, how bout it for old times sake? I'll even get on the drums. Get up here you big wuss."

Well that settled that, no one accused me of wimping out and got away with it, especially not in front of Jenny. And besides, it'd be disrespectful to refuse again. Afterall it was Adam's stage. I stepped on stage and was greeted with an electric guitar.

To Be Continued...

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For the past few days, I’ve been reading a book titled The Psycho Ex Game. It all started with a glance at the title and a quick skim of the back cover. As always, there was some review quoted, something about reading the first paragraph, then the first chapter, etc until the reviewer finished. Skeptical, I skimmed through the first paragraph and sadly got caught… until I finished it today. Finishing a good book is definitely one of those double-edged sword kinda deals. On one hand, finally finding out what happens in end is comparable to finally scratching an irritating itch. On the other, it’s slightly saddening because the whole magic of the story just kinda… ends.

However, there was a third side effect to finishing this book. Being not articulate about these things, I’ve decided to leave everything my War Council has said in dialogue form, in a sort of play. So with out further adieu, I give you “My First Play” by me, myself, and I. (Yes, it’s a long entry today!)

Imagine a dark gloomy room with several round tables and chairs. The tables are large enough to seat approximately 6-8 people. Along the back wall of the stage, one of those florescent bar/beer type signs hangs. It reads: Jay’s Mind. Four people are currently seated around one table, with a small flat screen monitor sitting on the center of the table and facing towards the audience. The monitor currently displays scenery of a book store, as through the eyes of someone. Next to the monitor is a small white board with a 3 item list.: 1)Travel, 2)Life Partner, 3)Shared, Grand Goal with LP. Each of the four people wears a sign across their chest containing a label: “Inspiration, Logic, Contentment, and Gangsta.” Inspiration has their attention.

Inspiration: *excited voice* “So what I’m saying is we should’ve seen this all along!! Think about it, the frustrated musician thing, scoring really high in creativity on that personality test! Oh, and lets not forget about those poems we had published in that book, or those writing awards we got, eh? All this time, we should’ve been a writer. I’m telling you, let’s write.” *looks at others checking if they’re convinced*

Logic: *looking contemplative, and in a cool, casual voice* “I guess you have a point. But don’t you remember what happened last time we tried writing? 40+ pages of gunk, and then we canned it. We don’t want to go through that again.”

Inspiration: *still full of energy* “So that didn’t go so smoothly in the past, who cares? The time is now! Lets head back to campus, grab a computer at the lab, and start writing something!”

Logic: *accusingly* Oh you’re always saying things like that. Remember the guitar idea? How we were gonna songwrite and sing too? Or what about that great business plan of ours?

Inspiration: Yeah, but what about my gym idea, huh? Look how far along that came.

Gangsta: *skeptical look in a hard voice* “I dunno yo, I’m wit Logic. We ain’t no writas man! Dats girly ish.”

Contentment: *child-like voice* “I bet it’d feel good if we accomplished something. Just like getting presents! *hugs himself*”

All four men shrug and glance at the center of the table. The monitor suddenly displays a small children’s type area in the book store with a small table. Seated around it is a couple, laughing over a small children’s book. After watching for a few seconds the scene pans left displaying a path through some bookshelves and a trip down the escalator. As it does, two more people walk into the room and up to the table.

Depression: *a soft, low, fragile sounding voice* “Hey guys, you just see that?”

Gangsta: *coldly* “Yea, we all caught it. Wutchu want?”

Anxiety: *fast-paced voice, a lil jumpy sounding* “Oh, we were just wondering when we were gonna get to accomplishing goal number 2.” *picks up white board off table* “You know we don’t have much time guys.”

Logic: “At 22? We still have some time left.”

Depression: “But what if we never find one! OMG, I knew this would happen.” *Logic beings to roll his eyes as if to say ‘hear we go again’. Gangsta and the rest are holding in snickers. “Just look at all those happy people. We’re so alone… it’s so cold… And we have all these problems, and no one is ever willing to listen. I keep telling you guys, we’re gonna go under, we might just implode! Theres too much pressure, too much stress. How are we ever gonna manage? If only we bought that hemlock when –“

At this point, Logic, Gangsta, Contentment, and Inspiration burst out laughing, finally ending in unison: “Pussy!!!”

Depression bursts into tears and Anxiety rubs his back, trying to calm him, all the while glaring at the other four.

Anxiety: “You guys are real jerks, you know that?”

The monitor displays a hand reach out to a girl pick up some purchases she’s dropped near the exit of the store. The girl mouth’s a thank you and smiles. At the same instant, Depression and Anxiety walk out of the room.

Contentment: “I’m sick of Depression’s constant speeches, it makes me feel uncomfortable. I can never stand being in the same room with him.”

Gangsta: “Yeah, I know wut ya mean yo, he’s sucha wimp.”

Inspiration nods.

Logic: “Oh, he’s just misunderstood. So anyway, about this writing idea…”

This continues on and on for some time, until I decide to end any crazy writing ideas by turning my next Nutang entry into a play.

THE END!

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The year is 320 BC, Alexander the Great is one day away from his greatest battle, a milestone in history that establishes him as one of the greatest generals and battle tacticians ever. It is in this battle that he defeats an army outnumbering his by 5 men to his one. What does he do? He sleeps on it. In fact, he oversleeps, and enters battle late... (Oh it's true, I heard it on the History channel!!)

Flashback to 2004. I'm lazy, and I know it. Or maybe it's how they say in office space, "It's not that I'm lazy Bob, it's a problem of motivation!". No, I'm lazy. It's cuz I work under pressure!! No again, actually I'm just lazy. Want the proof? I'm taking summer classes, I had a paper due two weeks ago on a Monday. This was assigned to me on the previous Thursday. I was also to incorporate views from two articles obtained from my campus Library. Monday rolls around, I oversleep thus foiling my plan to tackle the paper early before class. Class starts at 10:15am, it takes me nearly an hour to commute. I obtain both articles from the library at 10:00am, skim through em, and finally begin writing at 10:30am. Class ends at 12:15pm. I walk in the minute class ends, slightly apologetic and turn in my paper. The next week, my paper is returned to me. Yes, I got an A :P

And so like Alexander I win the battle. But, am I losing the war? Discussions with good friend invites perspective that perhaps a beneficial side effect of my college education thus far is the ability to write A papers in short amounts of time under heavy pressure/stress conditions. And besides she says, "People like us pay for it in anxiety." I like the idea! Even still, I decide to write the next paper ahead of time. Today, I had another paper due for the same class. Guess who was up an hour early this morning? :P Hey, at least I didn't miss class this time! I made it in literally 2 minutes before lecture started!

...

Did I mention I'm lazy?

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I was 3/4's the way through what I thought was an interesting comeback entry to my precious nutang journal when my dial-up connection crashed... This wouldn't' have been much of a problem had I been using my IE browser... but instead I was using the AOL browser and hence lost my entry with the connection failure... lovely eh? To release my frustration, I turned to my buddy list and found... SmarterChild! Unfortunately... he/she/it wasn't very sympathetic to my situation because he/she/it seems to be waiting for an apology for something I've done, but can't quite remember. My next best choice, a real live person, pointedly ignores me... Curse you nutang, for lying at the root of all of my life's problems!

Just kidding, I didn't mean it! This love/hate relationship we have needs some issues worked out...

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I privatized all my other entries. I mean no sense in havin someone accidently stumble upon my insanity. :P I think from now on, the only time I'll write something pubic, is when I have a one line complaint... like how cheez-its should come in bigger boxes. They run out waaaaaay too damn fast. Meanwhile all the boring vents stay hidden for me to read. Alright, I'm out. Oh, but if you did wanna read all those other boring entries, feel free to guess at the password. It's not very creative and I used the same one for every entry. Laters.

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