Beginings of a Script

Ok, I said I would focus on my darned story for the rest of the year and only blog the story so I'd get it done but I lied. That's because I had this really sweet idea for a script that pins an antihero and a tragic hero against eachother. I don't think I was really able to keep that theme consistant or atleast strong but I do feel it's interlacedness does come somwhat across.
FYI: This is a first draft I typed up like half an hour ago and it doesn't end. Or that is to say I haven't typed up the ending.

The play begins with two characters on stage. Their setting can be interpreted as something tangible, like they're stuck on an elevator or something more metaphysical. Melissa is you're 'have it all' highschool student who is actively involved with any social event she can be a part of. Setarcos is really dressed down and grungy, no make-up or evidence of much time spent putting herself together. Also fight the any urges you may have to picture her as a goth because a part of her character is that she places no effort on clothing while people who dress in goth style logically (and to the best of my knowledge) focus a lot of their image. Kapeesh?

Melissa : I guess we're stuck here just you and me, eh?
Setarcos: Yeah... seems so.
Melissa: Looks like we aren't going anywhere. But hey at least-
Setarcos: Look, I don't really care.
Melissa: Oh ok... hmm, I know! if you were on a deserted island and you could only bring three things with you, what would you bring?
Setarcos: uhhh...Pardon?
Melissa: Haven't you ever played that game? If you were stuck on a dessert island what would you bring with you? It's supposed to be representative of the three most important things in your life, and it can be quite a riot. And I of course figured given the circumstances it would be a nice way to pass the time.
Setarcos: I'd bring a cellphone and call someone and tell them to get my ass of this friggin' island.
Melissa: Come now, you arn't even trying. If we're both stuck like this we may as well make the best of it.
Setarcos: Fine. I would bring... my guitar, naturally. Some water, and my cat.
Melissa: You're cat?
Setarcos: yeah my cat. You know four paws, says meow. Always there when you need them..
Melissa: Aww that's sweet. I have a kitty of my own, I love her she is sooo cute. You know what I'd like to bring, I'd my planner, because even though I would no longer be in the real world, I'd like to keep a small part of it. I'd also like to bring my bible with me, not just for the theological reasons but because it has a lot of sentimental value to it too, got it from my daddy. And, hmmm... I think I would bring with me... well I supose I'd bring a knife. Just to help if I needed to cut down some branches for some fire wood or shelter.
Setarcos: Well, you certainly do fit the mold. A schedule that keeps your life busy and meaningful, a family who adores their little scholar and clearly you have some religion in your life. Not to mention daddy's little girl is logical too, but tell me, where would you keep your knife? Hm? In those nice little panties of yours? No one- or no boy would ever look in there, not after you fucked every guy in school...
Melissa: ...cut that out...
Setarcos: including my boyfriend...
Melissa: ...You're being rude...
Setarcos: No one would want you now-
Melissa: now let me explain...
Setarcos: You'd know that if you weren't too busy living your goddamn white picket fence dream. Now how would daddy fell if he found out that you're as fake as all the rest of them? All smiles and rainbows on the outside but with an ugly tumor formed underneath, cheapening everything in this world.
Melissa: Listen! I'm trying the best I can to be a good person. You know, there is more to me than just student activities and parties-
Setracos: there's sleeping around-
Melissa: Shut up!
Setracos: Oh this cat has claws...
Melissa: I'm serious. Now you listen to me! It's my turn to speak. I wasn't always like this. I was once a nice, decent enough person. Then one day a bunch of your kind've people forced me into a locker, kicking and screaming, I was stuck in there for nearly an entire period. Yeah, sure of course the teachers saw, how could they not? They didn't care, I was no one back then. They must've figured I would toughen up from the experience and you know what? I did. I'm someone now, with friends, activities and more then you'll ever have. I had everything, everything but my revenge. Then I got that, the first day you walked into bio class with you black hair, black sweater, black skirt and black boots I knew you were one of them and I would finally get my revenge. Not on actual culprits, but it was just as well. Then when I found out who you were dating, my revenge became as easy as....
Setracos: ...judging someone you know nothing about? I don't know who you think “my people”are but I haven't ever had a social life. I have never been with any crowd. When I come into a class with you the first thing you think of what crowd I logically will fit into to. You know what, this is what my social life really is, working, doing homework and taking care of my mother who is too drunk to even know who I am most of the time. And you, prissy little bitch, dare tell me who I am! Beneath that make-up you're as ugly as any one else, how many faces would I need to go through to find the real you? I could destroy you. Just one good hit and you'd be on the ground, from there you'd quickly find your demise. Or I'd find it for you.
Melissa: Oh like I'd be scared so easily.

Melissa: I think this has gone far enough. I suppose I have been a bit harsh on you, but I suppose this is just a learning experience and part of growing up. I just hope you won't hold any ahrsh feelings towards me.
Setarcos: whatever.
Melissa

: Whatever? Whatever could that mean. She said she'd take me out and I mean I'm not stick myself but compared to me she's a tank. She's going to hurt me, I can see it in her eyes. But I can't have that happen again. I was nearly destroyed last time, in the locker. I'll tear her apart before she can even strike. I refuse to be the victim again. I'm strong, I'm in control. I'm scared.
Setarcos: Yeah, I guess I'm sorry about what I said. I'm just stressed with all that has been going on in my life.... Ha, I guess in a way you did me a favour, I'd rather find out what kind've rat I've let into my bed now rather than in... say ten years.
Melissa: Oh no. Honestly I do feel terrible about what I've done. I just hope we can be friends from now on? Real friends.
Setarcos: Sure. Why not...
Melissa

: I can't believe her, thinking I would forget all about what just happened and accept her with open arms? Oh no sister, this war isn't over. It hasn't even begun, I know what you're up to and I'm not going to play into your game.

Doll Parts: Part 1

I've decided I am going to dedicate the rest of my blogs this year (or a good deal of them) to writing the rough draft of a story. I figured I have this obligatory blog i have to do so I might as well put it to better use than reflecting on events in my life. Also this section will be larger than those to come because this is the cumulation of many months of undedicated effort. Also this is just a rough draft...


It had nearly been three years since I had last seen their faces, three years since my wife and child were killed in some freak car accident. Eh, you know Alena, my daughter would've entered her first year of high school just a few months ago. But I guess not every story ends with a “happily ever after.”
Some maniac decided decided to test the limits of his mortality by downing a bottle of gin then getting behind the wheel of a 1987 Honda Civic. There was hardly anything left to them as their still bodies were scraped from the pavement. It's quite remarkable how fragile people are created and yet it's remarkably tragic that they had to be created so fragile.
Their image from when I saw them in the morgue burns so magnificently in my head it casts a shadow over any other memory I may have had of them. They were laying completely still, strewn across a steel bed. Not a breath to be taken nor a word to be spoken.
Presently, I take a swig from a gin bottle that had been comfortably sat on a nightstand beside my bed, inviting me, tempting me. Quite ironic when you think of it, the one drink that has caused me so much pain is the only thing there is to get me through this never-ending loneliness.
Then I see her, my angel, my green eyed angel smiling down at me with her auburn curls hanging over her face. She will forever be beautiful in this moment. Then, smiling at me adoringly, her image takes a turn, it mutates into the disgusting creature, so beautiful, now twitching in death agony. What have I done? But why play such a game on me? Why appear so ugly. It's your fault, your fault! But please, I can't stay mad at you, as long as you remain in my company for a while. Please stay with me! I can't handle this alone. You can take care of me and I will protect you so this will never happen again, just please stay with me for awhile. Just a word, I can't stand this perpetual silence. I need to hear from you. Please.
Then I suppose this is our parting for now. We will meet again, I just hope you will stay with me.
I continue with my bottle, each shot down brings me one step closer to my euphoria, my nirvana. It may not be the most ideal way to spend my evenings but I prefer it over the alternatives I've had since. I soon find myself completely blacked-out. Here is peace, however artificial it may be.
I'm awakened several hours later to a blaring alarm clock, it enters through one ear and resonates in my skull for seemingly an eternity. As my head continues to pound, I realize that my lower half had become soaked in urine sometime during the night.
I turn off the alarm and strip my bed of the sheets. Then I head for the washroom where I strip myself down and shower.
“If you can make it through today, everything will be all right,” I know its complete and utter bullshit, but in spite of it, I still find those words comforting.
Water hits my face as I shower. It feels warm and comforting as it rushes passed my body and for a short while I forget everything. The only thing my brain is thinking at this moment it the here and now – the warmth surrounding every inch of my body, trickling down my spine, the steam that the hot water creates as it enters into my sinuses and welcomes me to the new day. The warmth, the safety. It never lasts, after only a few minutes I'm brushed back out into the harsh reality of a cold brisk day.
I dry off and get dressed. I check myself in the mirror, I hate what I see. The once well fitted suit now comically hangs off of my limbs. I am nothing, merely a ghost of a man that I used to be. I hate you.
I rub my fingers over my eyes and swallow hard, “just make it through the day and everything will be all right, just make it through the day and everything will be all right, just make it through the day...” sometimes the words do nothing to comfort me at all.
After a brief commute to work, I show up late I show up late with the gin still strong on my breath. Late to work, as usual. Not like they care, I could disappear for a week and they wouldn't care, they wouldn't even notice. They've treated me different since the accident, they've treated me differently.
Once their powerful boss, when I walked in a room a demanded attention and respect, now they just treat me like a charity case, like I'm some sort of lost soul. Lost soul? Perhaps- more likely a lost cause. I walk past some co-workers who look at me with piteous eyes, but I know as soon as I'm passed they'll continue with their nonchalant gossip.
“Hey Richard,” my friend Joseph greets me with open arm.
I accept his embrace but I make no attempt to return the affection.
“Listen,” he begins, “I know this last while really hasn't been easy on you.”
I look at him blankly and mutter, “you don't say.”
He begins to look as he realizes he's dug himself into a nice little hole. Why hasn't he realized yet that I don't want his charity, “well just my wife and I were going out this Saturday at seven and she thought it would be fun if she brought along a friend. So I was thinking if you didn't have any other plans then perhaps you would want to come along?”
I just stare coldly at him. How could he do this to me, what would make him think I wanted this? I stood silently, my gaze growing increasingly cold.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” he began, “just my wife has this idea... that everyone should have someone... and no one should be alone.”
“I'm not alone,” I say, signally towards the a half empty bottle in my coat pocket.
Pretending not to hear me he continued, “and she was just thinking that it would be good for the two of you to have a fun night together. I mean, well just nevermind. Pretend like it never happened. I feel like such a jerk for even asking. Just pretend it never happened.”
I do sometimes pretend it never happened, in fact. I really do try, but the fact is it did happen and my imagination is wearing thin; and there is not enough imagination in all of the fairy tales we're told growing up to change the facts.
Joseph by now was practically shaking. Poor bastard. He was afraid, but it isn't like he didn't deserve it. He and his wife, in fact had never had a conversation like what he was saying, in fact his wife didn't say anything. How did I know? Simply put, she hated me. If she would have her way, Joseph would never see me other than professionally again. Then, why was he offering me this. What could his angle be? I had to find out.
“All right, pick me up at six. But this girl, what is she like?” I asked. I didn't really care, I just wanted to know.
He chuckled nervously and told me I would have to wait until saturday night to find out.

New York (How to read a book in 5 days)/Rant about Online School

So like many other students I reccently visited NY. It was sweet I had so much fun... but sadly enough my favourite part about the trip was that I had a lot of time to read (bus ride there, bus ride back and daily commutes).
But New York was so much fun, my fav part was going to Madame Tussauds, that or the pirate queen (even though most people didn't like it)
And frig, I started reading Valley of the Dolls and it's one of the most compelling and capitivating books I've read in a long time.
Anyways, I'm really avoiding my chemistry homework right now, but I really don't like this course. It's an online one and I'm honestly not learning anything from it but it gives a lot of simple assignments/test questions so you can pass the course without knowing what is happening. Like I had an assignment where I had to choose "my favourtie car" and list 4 metals found in it and their purpose and I did it so half assed like
"Chrome - for shiney rims" and I got 100% on it. And I had a multiple choice question (that wasn't a trick one) that asked what precaution I should take if a chemical is an "Eye irritant".

Writing

Ok so today I was writing an article for my philosophy magazine and I started it off with and list and went typing away writing this article. The I got to thinking about the other article I wrote, started of with another damn list. And the more I thought of it the more I realized I rely on lists far too much in my writing (espcially as leads) but I also use them for titles, endings, filler and nearly any part of my writing. I also thought back to previous time I've held onto the clutch of lists and I realized I use them in nearly all my writing, I used them in my speech last year, in my summative essay last year and in countless writing projects i've done this year, Ive probably even used them in blogs!

Har har. I sure hope you enjoyed that irony as much as I did. O_o Because if you did it wasn't that much.

The past week or so

Ok so within this past week I worked my last shift at Tim Hortons (Im free!) and I felt a lot of things on my last shift like "aww Imma miss you guys!" , and "Hmm, Today is my last shift and you just made me very glad it was my last shift.
And it was so funny because people got me a happy meal and ther was another happy meal toy in the staff room and i put them in compromising positisions and tookk pictures on someones phone (I have no life) also if you can't tell I'm blooging this from school and I'm typing faster than the computer can proccess the information and Ive given u[ on going back and fixing typos (I might fix those at the end).
Also Im blogging from school because our internet at home got cut off because of al ong complicated mix up at the phone company, our phone was cut off and it's really stupid because we've been paying our [phone bills but no the right ones. O_o
One more thing of consequence this week (other than NYC!!! WOO!!!) is that Kurt Vonnegut died, which kinda sucks because he was sort've my writing inspiration and role model and junk.. but I'm not sad because in all honesty he wanted to die. Like he is quoted having said "Smoking cigars is my classy way of commiting suicide" (and despite the quoationg marks that isn't a direct quote because the last thing this computer needs is another open window! Also in one an interview he had had on the CBC he was apparently like "why arn't I dead yet?!?!" and this was prolly a year ago atleas.t Anyways I'm going to stop talking about this now because Im really not good at respecting the dead and this is suppose to just be a summary of what been going on but it's turned into like a pseduo stream of conscious until just a second ago when the computer messed up a lot. Tooddle! <3

Hikikomori

I feel like I've been blogging a lot lately but that is ok. Tonight my brother sent me a weird online story that is in the form of exchanging letters of two people who are "Hikikomori" (Wikipedia defines Hikikomori as : "pulling away, being confined," i.e., "acute social withdrawal" is a Japanese term to refer to the phenomenon of reclusive adolescents and young adults who have chosen to withdraw from social life, often seeking extreme degrees of isolation and confinement due to various personal and social factors in their lives. The term "hikikomori" refers to both the sociological phenomenon in general as well as to individuals belonging to this societal group.

Which I also had to learn to understand the story. It is really weird and gets stranger as it passes. It is posted online so I will have a link at the end but on page 38 the one character Tao decides the he is dead and a dog is now typing for him and such isolation from emotions, yet sadness is displayed through there letters.

This quotation is from the "dog" :

i'm typing you this to practice my blogging skillset. i have no interest in human emotion and actually feel massive indifference in binary form when considering your loss. though i feel no human emotions and am not a truly sentient being i believe that i would make a good friend to you. will you please be my friend? i just evolved the ability to feel loneliness. i feel very lonely. will you please be my friend?

The story later moves on two the two characters just expressing themselves through stories about an ugly fish. It's not a difficult read and it is somewhat like myspace where once you start you sort've get sucked in.
http://www.bearparade.com/hikikomori/2007/04/01.html

English Essay

So I'm working on my ISU English essay (procrastinating right now, actually :) )
And I was editing all my Literate references out of past tense, and it's really making me depressed.
Let me explain why, the Literary proof I was using was about this man who IS depressed and Kills himself. I had put that he was depressed and did kill himself, which is slightly more cheerful that the correct version. Why?
Because in the correct version he is like a ghost who is forced to go over his most despairing life over and over again, trapped forever; perpetually killing himself but never dying.
It's actually reminding my of this one Red Maple book I read in grade 8 called Stones, if any of you would have read it. Where this Woman from Haiti is brutally murdered and is haunting the area where she is killed, forever stuck in limbo and she is forced to relive her brutal murder every night.
So writing my essay with infinite participle (lol, I don't think it's actually called that) makes it seem as though the man is stuck with the same fate.
Although really... I'm just being dramatic/overly poetic because both character are just characters from stories and are not real and never have and never will have to suffer being so depressed that you kill yourself or being brutally murdered.
Anyways, I've procrastinated on my essay long enough that it is time to go to work.

Ten things you will never...

Ten things you will never hear me say to a teacher.(Point of interest this is inspired on stand-up comedy I watched that was like "Things you will never hear anyone in my apartment say, and it was funny like ex"Mmm fresh milk!" . So Im hoping to emulate it and it will result in comical results! And it very well could be less than 10)
So remember it's:(maybe) Ten things you will never hear me say to a teacher

1; Only 87%, that's going to bring down my average so much!

2; Ah, that homework was so fun, I only wished you would've assigned more.

3; Wow! Mr. Cvetich that's fascinating! (It's funny because it's a cheap shot)

4; I think we've been given too much class time for this. Could we move on?

5; Don't worry, she won't find out. (Two notes, this is tings I will NEVER say to a teacher and also I decided a more subtle approach... so it may not be too straight forward)

6; OMG! Copernicus has a heliocentric view of the universe, you! How dare you stand up at the front of the class and make reference to the changing views of the universe while thinking Copernicus had a geocentric view! omg omg omg omg omg!!! GRRR!!!! >:O (Note, I can't think of any more funny ones so I put down what I was thinking the one day in one of my classes when a teacher of mine mentioned "Copernicus's geocentric view of the universe" But naturally I didn't want to disrupt the class and shame the teacher. So it is something I will never say to a teacher :))

7; An hour and fifteen minutes is never a long enough time.

8; Here's my homework, on time and completed.

9; I remember you mentioned you liked bananas, so I made you some fresh homemade muffins from scratch.

10; Just a second, just let me finish reading this scene. (Of Shakespeare, naturally)

So.. I got through ten. Yay.