Interlude (in other words, "time out!")

First and foremost, I'd like to say:

Happy Chinese New Year to all of my friends (Chinese and non-Chinese alike)!! May, errr... this year brings you, err...

Yea, I'm not good at these things. This is always the case whenever I tell someone "Happy something-or-other!" 'cause you know, there's like an unwritten rule that says something like:

"After thou sayeth 'Happy something-or-other,'thou shalt add in some other sentences so that thou wilt looketh like thou really meant what thy said."

Or something like that, I don't know.

But, fucking-lame jokes aside (goddamn I should really stop cursing), I am sorry that I haven't been able to post the second chapter (or scene) to Visage of Lies (for those of you who reads it). I've been... distracted... by another project (but of course the actual thing doesn't warrant such big a word like 'project,' but I'm just being humble here, so play along).

It has occurred to me, of late, that I have never talked about that particular play, even though I have discussed (or mentioned) my other, er... 'works' in this blog of mine. That's because I have a feeling that if I were to try to explain that play, a lot of you folks will be confused, because I know my explanation will make no sense whatsoever (unless you can decode my somewhat cryptic language, but again, I'm just being humble so play along).

Which is just another way of saying, I don't even know what the play is really all about.

And quite truthfully, I'm glad of the fact that I don't know what the play is really all about.

Now, don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying that I hate that play. No, I love it. I love it to death. I know it's an achievement that I will be proud of until the day I breathe my last breath. It's not Broadway stuff, true. It's not a proper play, technically speaking, true. But I don't give a flying fuck, because I did what I set out to do the moment I sat down on my chair and double-clicked on that icon that says 'Word' in my laptop.

I set out to tell a story of a painter who can see through lies, and I think I did just that.

Stories are wonderful, I think. Especially fiction.

"How is it wonderful?" you may ask.

Sometimes you read a story about something, only to realize in the end that the story is telling you something else entirely. That happens to writers, too. Sometimes when you try to write a story about a fictional character trapped in a fictional world, going through fictional circumstances (and along the way, acquire a fictional spouse or two), and getting a fictional ending, only to realize that you have actually written about yourself, trapped in a real world, going through real circumstances (but you may not acquire a real spouse or two), and you also realize that the fictional ending is what you want your ending to be.

Confused yet? Good, I've done good job if you are.

"So what's the point, Bagus?" you may ask. That's the beauty of it. There's no point in it at all. But you're still reading it right? There you go. That's because in between those seemingly random thoughts that I just wrote down, there really is a point. It's only a matter of perspective.

The beauty of writing, and reading: both the writer and the reader will be invariably surprised in the end.

So, you surprised yet? Good, because I just explained what my play (A Visage of Lies, in case you forgot) is all about.

And with that somewhat cryptic post, I bid you

Good night

Sleep

tight.

(And if you're still confused, drink a cup of coffee, mixed with some mandrake roots. For an extra "kick," put dragon's blood in it. Works like a charm.)

This World's Got Me Smoking

I know, it's a lame excuse for me to keep fucking up my lungs. But what can I say?

So far I've uttered the sentence "I'm quitting smoking" hundreds of times already, even though I meant those words every single goddamn time too. Last year (that's 2008), I almost quit for good. But we all know how THAT turned out, yea?

Like what Jackie-boy said in Sin City: "Smokers never quit... Smokers smoke when their chips are down... And YOUR chips are down..."

And yes, my chips are still down. But I'm fightin'. Hell, I might even put "1. Quit smoking for good, don't fuck it up this time," in my New Year Resolutions list.

I mean, goddamn folks, cigarettes are 9 bucks a pack nowadays. I'm afraid I might have to start sucking some dicks for cigarettes soon, if I don't stop. And I'm sure as shoot don't want THAT shit to happen, do you? Hell no.

But Bagus, you might be asking, what about your other New Year Resolutions?

Which I'll probably answer like so:

Errr... Can I get back to you on that?

No, actually I do have one more thing to add (that makes two, two New Year Resolutions so far). And that would be:

"2. Stop cursing all the time."

Yea, that sounds good right? Cool.

And I should probably get out more, and exercise a bit, but I seriously doubt that would happen, so let's just skip that part. For now, at least.

So, late though it may be, I would like to say "Happy New Year," and, err... "Merry Christmas?" to all of you guys out there.

Let's kick some rear end, shall we?

And with that, I bid you

Good night.

Sleep

Tight.

Warning!

The next post is going to be a story I made up during my A Level days. It was the first story I completed, and posted on the net (it's still up in my Friendster blog). It's my version of the famous children story, Red Riding Hood.

But it is in no way a children's story. You may think of me as a sick bastard, a sex maniac, and a rapist after you read this. I know I scared myself. But let's look at it objectively, and treat it like how it's supposed to be treated.

A short story.

This is the last warning. If you're under 18, go back and just read my older posts. If you can't take sexual violence, go back (I don't wanna hear people complaining about it, because I'm against sexual violence too). I'm being dead-fucking-serious here. Two of my friends who read the story told me that I'm a sick bastard. That's how bad it is.

Ok, ready?

The next post, and also the first Midnight Theater story I wrote, is going to be called "Red". It was inspired by the Red Riding Hood, and whoever the original writer was, I am eternally indebted to you.

Here goes nothin'.

Spit it Out!

Man, I'm so pissed today I can kill someone. But I have a better cure.

A dose of Slipknot does the trick. Here's the lyric to one of their song, Spit it Out. If you just, like me, had a bad day, try and listen to them. (SIC) stuff. Here goes.

Spit It Out

Since you never gave a damn in the first place,
Maybe it's time you had the tables turned
'Cause in the interest of all involved I got the problem solved
And the verdict is guilty...

...MAN NEARLY KILLED ME
Steppin' where you fear to tread
Stop, drop and roll
You were dead from the git-go!
Big mouthfucker, stupid cocksucker
are you're scared of me now? Then you're dumber than I thought
Always is, and never was
Foundation made of piss and vinegar
Step to me, I'll smear ya
Think I fear ya? Bullshit!
Just another dumb punk chompin' at this tit
Is there any way to break through the noise?
Was it something that I said that got you bent?
Gotta be that way if you want it
Sanity, literal profanity hit me!


Spit it out
All you wanna do is drag me down
All I wanna do is stamp you out (x2)

Maybe it's the way you gotta spread a lotta rumor fodder
Keepin' all your little spies and leaving when you realize
Step up, fairy
I guess it's time to bury your ass with the chrome
Straight to the dome
You heard me right, bitch, I didn't stutter
And if you know what's good, just shut up and beg, brother
Backstab - don't you know who you're dissin'?
Side swipe,we know the Ass that your kissin'
Bigity-biggidy bitch boy, halfway hauser
Don't hear shit cuz It keeps gettin' louder
Come on, and get a face full 'o tatic
Lipping off hard, going home in a basket
You got no pull, no power, no nothin
Now you start shit?
Well, ain't that something?
Payoffs don't protect, and you can hide if you want
But I'll find you, comin' up behind you!

Spit it out
All you wanna do is drag me down
All I wanna do is stamp you out (x2)

'Bout time I set this record straight
All the needlenose punchin' is making me irate
Sick o' my bitchin' fallin' on deaf ears
Where you gonna be in the next five years?
The crew and all the fools, and all the politix
Get your lips ready, gonna gag, gonna make you sick
You got dick when they passed out that good stuff
BAM!
Are you sick of me?
Good enough, had enough!

Fuck me! I'm all out of enemies! (x8)

Spit it out
All you wanna do is drag me down
All I wanna do is stamp you out (x2)

Spit! (x4)
Spit... it out!

************

Man, ain't THAT a kick in the ass. Move along now. Mind your head.

Good night

Sleep tight.

I'm posting... I can't believe it.... Wow...

You know, I really don't have much to tell you about my life. Seriously, if I were to write down every single thing that's happening in my days, it would probably sound like this: Wake up, eat, smoke, shit, eat, smoke, internet, smoke, lepak, smoke, sleep. Clean, rinse, repeat.

Not until recently, at least.

So here's what's weird: if you are a close friend of mine, you know that I have a really, really short attention span. As in seriously, agonizingly short. That's why my short stories are, well, short. So are my relationships (I don't know if that's relevant or not). That is also the case with my studies, sadly. Ever seen me studying for more than 1 hour straight? If you have, that is not me, that's my twin brother. No, I don't have a brother.

The point is, it's really hard for me to focus on one thing at a time, let alone several things at once (a sorry excuse for a Monash student).

Until recently.

So I'm taking part in the Monash Performing Arts Club (you can call it MPAC if you want) Year End Production (YEP, for short. That makes it MPAC YEP. Don't look at me, I didn't invent that name). And yours truly - who am I kidding? - I wrote the script. No, I should say, I am writing the script, as of this post. Terrible thing, them writer's block.

But first thing first. The concept of the story is not mine. True, I'm writing the script, and true that the script is being used right now, but the concept is not mine. It's Ivan's. Well, I made some (sick) adjustments myself, but the concept is his. Moving along.

Now, the most awesome part of this whole thing is that I hadn't quit. Surprise, surprise. Didn't know that I'm a quitter? News flash kids. Why did you think I chose BioMed instead of Med? But no, seriously. I haven't been this serious about anything my whole life. Usually when I am given a responsibility, I'd much rather get it done as fast as possible (short attention span folks. It kills). But not this time, no sir.

Why? Well, first of all, the cast members seems to like the story. A lot. So far. I feel appreciated, you know? Can't let them down.

Secondly, we are charging RM 10 for the ticket. In my book, that is a lot of money. For the first time I'm writing junks not only for myself, but for people who are paying to get entertained. Quitting means putting a target mark on my head.

Lastly, I fucking love doing this. Seriously. All the pressure, all the stress, all the deleted Word documents, does not even come close to hampering the joy I felt when the cast members actually acted out my script. My script, ladies and gentleman. And it turned out to be an awesome thing, indeed. I swear I almost felt like crying when they first acted out the scenes (the first three scenes, if you want to be specific about it). It was like unto a work of art. I almost felt like quitting smoking. Almost. That's saying a lot.

So having said that, I am not really all that when it comes to writing, even more so when it comes to acting (yes, I will be acting. In one scene. Like, a cameo), but I think I can say with a certain degree of confidence that this is going to be awesome. It's going to be a gas.

I'm having a ball, people. And I would appreciate it if you would come and check it out. The play is called Visage of Lies. The title is created by Jeevan, not me. It will be held in Monash University. If you're not a student, you can always pretend that you are and come anyways. It's going to be held on Friday, 10th of October, 7.30 pm to 10.00 pm. There's gonna be some dancing scenes, a sword fight, and a making out scene. I'd say that's rather cool. If you want to know the details, go here.

And another thing; this is a heads-up for those who actually read my short stories. I am going to write the story of the play in short story form, chapter by chapter, after the event (and exams). We'll see how it's going to be.

Right. I think that's about it. Back to the scripts.

Good night,

Sleep tight.

Break in between

As you might have noticed, I have posted two poem-wannabe post, a story I've been wanting to write for so long. One is about The Night (I have to say that it is quite a lame attempt of a poem, but I like the finishing lines) and the other is about a confession of a serial killer, namely Act:Confession (this was not supposed to be a poem-wannabe, but I decided that I should try sumthin new).

And of course, there are a lot of grammatical mistakes here and there, which I haven't gotten around yet (I will, if it's really that bad).

In the future, I will write more of these kinds of stories here (there's something fascinating about dark and twisted story. I think deep down inside, there's a serial killer in everybody).

So, enjoy, and of course comments and critics are most welcome.

Good night

sleep tight