A day in the life...

Through the looking glass

2007-11-15T16:05:00.000+10:00

That moment. It was at that precise moment that they all saw through me. Like the slutty secretary with a pubic hair on her collar, like the drug addict selling a brand new car with no keys, they saw through me. I was transparent. Clear like water. And I was melting. I needed to find a pool or the ocean to preserve my liquid body. I needed a fridge or a freezer. Maybe if I froze myself I'd have enough time to find a cure.
Wait, back to the moment at hand. They're looking at me. Is there something on my cheek? No, it isn't that kind of look. It's the disgusted look you give a man whose just clubbed a baby seal. But I hadn't clubbed any baby seals in recent memory. So it couldn't be that.
But as I looked deeper, I started to see them changing before my very eyes. Weird-like. Like an optical illusion more than reality. Started looking like vampires, like the ones I'd seen in the classics of Hammer. But not as charismatic as Christopher Lee. Infinitely more grotesque.
Maybe it wasn't disgust, but hunger. Were they going to eat me?
I wasn't going to stick around for it. So I ran.
No one gave chase. The old lady I ran into in the hallway must've thought I was on crack. Was I? Who knows.

The Mermaid

2007-10-16T20:43:00.000+10:00

The man had captured a mermaid swimming by the beach. He stood on some flat rocks surrounded on all sides by water. She appeared to him from the water. And he watched as she circled him on her back. Her perfect hips and bare breasts. Scales of her tail glistened in the hot sun. He talked to her. There was no doubt she possessed magical powers, yet she was surprisingly naive. Naive to the ways of the world, the human world, the urban world. He talked to her like he would a pretty girl in a bar. She enjoyed her first real contact with mortal man. So charming was he that she left with him a day later in the back of his pick-up truck.

He showed her his house, bought her female clothes. She fell for him. Hard. But what did she know? T-shirts and dresses turned to lingerie. He dressed her up and had his way with her. Before long, she was a ruined mermaid. The man, charming on the outside but evil like the devil himself, had gone to the beach one day and found himself a cute and naive sexual slave. The mermaid had met the one man who would taint her opinion of humans for the rest of her short life.

It lasted a handful of months. The mermaid, as a result of the man, turned to drugs. Her drug addiction cost the man and made her less desirable. He drove her out to the country and with no goodbye dumped her on the side of the road.

The doctor

2007-01-09T18:15:00.000+10:00

No more pain. No more physical pain. He knew damn well that there was no way that he could prevent emotional pain - at least not at the moment - but he was more than prepared to undergo a surgery to prevent physical pain. He could stub his toe on the stairs and not even feel it. He could hit his head on a tree limb and be none the wiser.

It was a dark night. A castle in Germany; he experimented. He lay his own self on the operating table, directing his assistant. This crazy procedure he had worked so hard on. He messed with his nerves. His assistant, under his careful guidance, delved into his body. He didn’t want to ever feel pain again. He made it so that he would never have to feel pain again.

But, in doing so, he made sure that he would never feel pleasure again. Of any kind. No pain, no pleasure. He retained taste and hearing, seeing, smelling. For a while he retained his touch sense, despite not being able to experience the sensations of pain and pleasure. He would feel his foot hit a step, but not feel the pain associated with it. In time, however, his sense of touch also faded.

He would hurt himself, cut himself and not realize. Not feeling a pin prick on his finger or nail through the foot. He would wander his castle, leaving trails of blood. The floors of his house were splashed with blood. Eventually, he bled himself to death.

The fabulous destiny of me...

2006-11-22T13:13:00.000+10:00

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?

2006-11-21T22:45:00.000+10:00

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.

2006-11-20T18:25:00.000+10:00

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.

2006-11-16T22:43:00.000+10:00

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...

2006-11-09T17:11:00.000+10:00

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.

2006-11-07T16:32:00.000+10:00

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!

2006-11-06T22:22:00.000+10:00

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.

SNAKES ON A PLANE!!!!

2006-08-30T17:29:00.000+10:00

I laughed the entire way through. And it wasn't one of those "so-crap-it-was-funny" films. My father, mother and sister were genuinely caught up in the film as a thriller. It is all in the way you look at it, I guess. From the moment I heard about it, I was expecting an awesome B-grade cult film. And that was what I got. I went into the cinemas expecting outrageous scenes and a film that doesn't really take itself seriously (and that was what I got), but my parents and my sister didn't go in expecting such a film and, as such, didn't get the same back. They got what they were expecting...a genuinely exciting thriller. It is so effective in its execution, I thought, that you could get so caught up in the terror that you don't realise how ridiculous all of the deaths in the film are. A woman getting bit on the tongue by a snake jumping out of her sick bag; another overweight woman getting bit on the eye by a snake that just climbed its way up inside her dress; a man accidently grabbing a snake that fell from the roof instead of the oxygen mask that fell at the same time. It was all so hilarious. But not in a bad way at all.

My final comment? If you go in expecting a good thriller, you will get one. But if you go in expecting a riotous B-movie dripping with cult appeal, you will get definitely get one.

Something I wrote...

2006-08-10T13:28:00.000+10:00

This is something I wrote a while ago. It is an introduction to a film. Not entirely fleshed out, a pretty rough piece, but I feel like posting it. I plan to finish it off sometime. I like how it starts.

INT. OFFICE – DAY

CHARLOTTE and AMADEUS sit facing the camera, which is obviously the PRINCIPAL. This being a school. They are young. Charlotte wears black, semi-professional. Amadeus wears a t-shirt tucked into his jeans. They both sit at ease. They both don't particularly want to be here.

PRINCIPAL (O/S)
How old are you two?

Charlotte and Amadeus answer straight-faced.

CHARLOTTE
Twenty four.

AMADEUS
Twenty five.

PRINCIPAL (O/S)
You are the youngest parents in this high school.

CHARLOTTE
I don’t get your point?

PRINCIPAL (O/S)
Isn’t twenty four and twenty five a little young to have a fifteen year old girl?

AMADEUS
No.

(Beat)

CHARLOTTE
She’s adopted.

We now see the principal.

PRINCIPAL
I don't mean to offend you, but I seriously question whether you two can raise a teenager.

CHARLOTTE
There have been no complaints yet.

PRINCIPAL
How long has she been under your care?

CHARLOTTE
Three months.

PRINCIPAL
It will only get more difficult.

AMADEUS
What does this have to do with you?

The Principal looks at the parents, hesitates a bit, and then...

PRINCIPAL
Your daughter was in a fight today.

CHARLOTTE
A fight?

PRINCIPAL
She assaulted another student.

CHARLOTTE
There are two sides to every story.

PRINCIPAL
Either way, Mrs Valentine, the school frowns on fighting.

AMADEUS
Did she win?

The Principal is not too impressed.

PRINCIPAL
There are no winners in a fight as far as the school is concerned.

CHARLOTTE
What happened to the other girl?

PRINCIPAL
It was a boy.

Everything from my birth until now.

2006-08-09T17:45:00.000+10:00

Let me just say, I haven't had a particularly interesting life. But in order to introduce myself better, I feel I should start from the beginning...

My parents were fugitives living on the road. They robbed banks from Hong Kong to Asian countries further down south, like Papua New Guinea, to Australia. Whilst in Australia, I was concieved and born. My parents were killed 3 years and 6 days after my birth.

I spent the better part of my childhood poking dead animals with sticks and pickpocketing wealthy merchants for the local Fagin. All the while I was recieving training in the ninja arts courtesy of a senile rat who had made his home underground.

It was at age ten that I first displayed a fascination with the ocean. I set sail for a foreign land on a small dinghy, but promptly returned home after being attacked by pirates only 50 metres from land. I developed severe cases of aquaphobia (fear of water), abluthophobia (fear of bathing), antlophobia (fear of floods) and aphephobia (fear of touching or being touched).

Because I refused to bathe, the Australian people told me to leave. I became Chinese and then moved to China. I lived there for approximately two years, three months and ten days. After far too many instances of contact with various diseases, venereal or otherwise, I decided to leave China.

Australia agreed to take me back if I agreed to start bathing again and drink an elixir they had concocted that would apparently make me a white person again. The elixir turned out to be a tranquiliser and I was out cold for a unknown amount of time. When I awoke, I had cybernetic implants in my arms and legs. I was also now a woman.

I then returned to China to pursue a cheap and easy solution. My period was not far off. I found an alleyway clinic that specialised in abortions and euphanasia. I couldn't, however, go through with the operation. At this period in time I was at my most aphephobic. Plus, the doctor refused to wash his hands. They smelled vaguely of taco meat and labrador.

This was when I had the bright idea of searching within Thailand for a doctor who could help me in my current situation. I found a doctor who had helped over thirty Thai boys on their journeys to become Thai women. I agreed to the operation as long as I was not awake or would not have any memory of the experience when I awoke. The procedure took thirty three minutes, all of which I spent knocked out cold. As far as I know, nothing happened.

At the age of fourteen, I returned to Australia to pursue a career in killing people. The cybernetic implants were the first step in the Australian government's nefarious plan to create super soldiers. I spent two years in downtown Sydney killing hobos and drunkards. Twenty-six and a half dead people later, I told the Australian government that I was done killing. They promptly shot me in the head.

I spent three years in a coma and awoke at the age of nineteen to realise I had lost my baby. There were obvious signs of a cesarean.

Now I live in the state of Queensland with my three wives, all of whom were kidnapped against their will, and two children (illegitimate love childs from my early days in China).