The fabulous destiny of me...

The unicorn smelt kind of like sugar and spice. Like brown sugar, to be more exact. And maybe some hazelnuts. But, then again, I always had a keen sense of smell (this is a horrible, horrible lie!). He told me that trees don't make sounds if they fall over in the forest and no one is there to hear them. I asked him what if a tree falls over in the forest and there is someone there, but they have already forcibly removed their ears. He said that in that case, they do make a sound. ...I think I am beginning to understand. I always imagined that when people leave, the trees wrestle each other and play games like hide and seek.

I asked the unicorn if the sun ever hears the trees fall over when there is no other men around to hear it. The unicorn said that the sun has no ears. I knew that. I was only testing.
"What about men with ears on the soles of their feet?"
"What about them?" The unicorn replied.
"Can they hear the trees falling over?"
"Not unless they are sitting with their feet up off the ground."
I don't like the unicorn. He wasn't as friendly as I was led to believe. And his horn wasn't sharp enough. He told me that in wartime he had impaled 26 men and 13 goblins. I think he was lying.

I hit him with a big rock on the back of the head. I am not sure why I did. But I thought it would be fun. But then he just died. When unicorns are dead, they smell kind of like beef mince and parsley.

But it wasn't all that bad an idea to kill the beast. It started to get cold, so I opened up his stomach and slept inside for the night. It was warm, but rather unpleasant. It turned out that an angry midget was already living in there... and he kept poking me.

Have you seen the aliens?

Unless you have unfailing microscopic vision like yours truly, I doubt that you have. Allow me to explain...

I was rudely awoken this morning by strange very little creatures running through my bedroom. They tried to steal my socks. But I am not sure why, cause they wouldn't even fit. They had ridiculous buckets on their heads (maybe from a miniature department store). They told me that they were helmets to stop the humans from reading their brainwaves. So I told them that we couldn't even read their brainwaves... so there was no point. But when they took off their helmets, I could read their brainwaves (something about tuna and red wagons). So they put the helmets back on. I let them take my socks too. Apparently socks are awesome for constructing buildings to house single cell amoebas.

I never liked those socks anyway... They had Carebear patterns on them.

The portal to another world...in my room.

I stumbled upon a portal to another world, in my room. It really isn't as cool as it sounds. I got stabbed by a less-than-friendly orc when all I wanted was my shoes. But I got to handle a giant axe, which was fun. And, of course, I killed a man. But it was his fault for falling on my giant axe; so it doesn't bother me in the slightest. I was supposed to find a magic scroll, but I couldn't find it no matter how hard I looked, so I just didn't bother and went to the tavern for a drink. Moments later, the whole world collapsed and I ended back up in my room again. It was like a really fast rollercoaster, except that it sucked and it made me feel sick.

Anyways, that's in the past. At the moment I am really excited about my new screenplay. I was working my way through it, but it wasn't working like I wanted it to. So I scrapped it and starting planning it all over again. But now it is perfect and I am ready to start it again. I am so excited that I can barely breathe. (But I can still breathe just enough to keep from dying). Maybe when I am finished, I will post it in pieces... or maybe I won't.

What I found in my stomach.

I actually opened my stomach today. There was like a small hole where I pierced the stomach on a wire fence. It was a surprisingly clean cut. I stuck my fingers in the hole and kind of pulled it open a bit without tearing the skin. There was a lot of blood. Even more than I had expected. It was rather irritating too. I didn't want to mess the carpet so I had to use many tissues. In the end I just went outside. If I kind of navigated around the blood, I could see my insides. I found what looked like a twenty cent piece, but then lost it again. I touched a figurine, but the hole wasn't big enough to allow for pulling it out. I think it was a Winnie the Pooh toy from a gumball machine. I managed to pull a screw out, but I wasn't sure what to do with it so I put it back in. But when I was putting it back in, I managed to finger out a small key. I wasn't sure what it opened, but I figured it would come in useful later. And it did. It turned out that it opened that annoying bedroom window above my bed that I could never get open. So in the end, I did pretty well. I ended up even skinnier than before, because to close my stomach, my mother had to overlap the pieces of skin and duct tape it all the way around. It's like wearing a corset 24 hours a day. But I am glad that it's much cooler at night with the window open, because the duct tape can get quite hot sometimes.

I woke at dawn...

I had awoke in some run-down apartment in Brisbane. Some guy that looked kind of familiar offered me a glass of orange juice. I shook my head 'no'. I made my way out of their, to the street. Wandering, I moved down the street before drifting into a bar. Five shots, my memory failing me still. An old man at the bar offered me a cigarette when he took out his metal case. I said 'no' and took out my own wooden pipe. I realised that besides me, the bartender and this old guy; there was no one in this bar. Lighting the old wooden pipe, I got up and paid.

I found myself, an hour later, wandering into an underground carpark. What in God's name was I doing in Brisbane? I found a car I liked, but I couldn't get into it. So I moved onto the next one... and then the next one... and then-- oh, here we go! It was a black sedan of some sort. I know almost nothing about cars and don't pretend to even care.

I made my way an hour and a half down south, back to my home. When I arrived, I found that it wasn't there. I searched the empty block for any traces of my house before walking two houses over and finding my house just where I left it.

I made my way indoors. My mother was there waiting for me. She seemed surprised and confused.
"What are you doing here?" ...which made me a little confused. "Aren't you supposed to be in Brisbane with your brother?"
Oh, so that's who the orange juice guy was? I knew he looked familiar. So, with that, I got in the car and drove back to Brisbane. It took me about three hours, in the city, to find the carpark and another 45 minutes to find the bar; followed by another 15-30 minutes to find the apartment that housed my brother at this very moment.

Then I kind of woke up. And my brother offered me a glass of orange juice. I nodded my head 'yes'.

A colossal screenplay; my writing habits, and my slow descent into the world of caffeine addiction.

I have recently started rewriting one of my old screenplays. The old screenplay was about 50 pages, yet was only half finished. I had this bright idea to add in all these new scenes, most of which are backstories for all of the many characters in the screenplay. I also decided to extend nearly all of the scenes which were bordering on too short in my opinion. So I anticipate that when I am done, I will be the proud writer of a 270 - 300 page screenplay. This roughly translates to 4 hours 20 minutes to 5 hours of screen time. I doubt I will ever get it produced, but I just really want to write it at the moment and I have warmed to the idea of having written a five hour film.

I also have two other screenplays to write at the same time. I update certain ones depending on the mood I am in or what new ideas I have. The second one is a screenplay about a bad-tempered hitman with a drug addicted daughter. To ensure that it comes off as realistic as possible, I have been researching everything from treating gunshot wounds to the many ways to murder a man to drug use and abuse. My 300 page screenplay doesn't require this amount of research because it is all very cartoonish, which is how I wanted it. My third screenplay is a science fiction that combines the age old tradition of duelling to resolve civil disputes and the idea of the kangaroo court. Throw in some visions of Christ; a boy with telekinesis, and some good old romance.

After those I might start on an idea I had about two gangs of schoolgirls that end up in a battle for the heart of an 11-year-old girl.

Now, I want a cup of coffee... Lately, I have found myself craving coffee, and yet I have always been a Tea drinker. Russian Tea, English Tea, Chinese Tea, any tea... Now I have tea at night and tend to drink coffee in the morning (and then usually tea at lunch or in the afternoon, Russian Caravan tea, of course). Damn you, caffeine...... I want to consume you and spit you out at the same time....

Blogs don't update themselves, retard!

Yeah, I am quite a lazy bastard. But it makes it easier knowing that next to no one reads my blog. I just feel like typing up all this completely useless information I have within the confines of my head....

If Rohan feels like linking me on his blog, I might feel like trying.

But until then, I'll just continue to randomly update my blog every six months or so.

Just saw Flags of our Fathers. Clint Eastwood's latest directorial offering. It was astounding. I think that war films are a real measure of talent and that at some point, all directors should do a war film, which brings me to Tarantino's Inglorious Bastards, which should follow his latest, Grindhouse.

I am currently looking forward to seeing Babel (because Alejandro González Iñárritu is a God), Marie Antoinette (because Sofia Coppola is a Goddess) and, of course, CASINO ROYALE, which looks to be the best film ever made.