J to J – A Soliloquy

(Or why you are not meant to tap your own back)

Hiya No. 1!

I didn’t think you could do it, never expected you to. Why, you tried it only once before and it sucked and I know why you think you shouldn’t do it again. I do, too. But you decided to just do it; decided to just get on and write that stupid short story – that one about some baby from hell type of flippertwit.

Again, idiocy reigned.

And blast me twice, but you’ve really finished what you set out to do this time. Why, you even made an awful series out of that rubbish!

Hahahahahahaha!

I know this wouldn’t sound much of a success to anyone but you, now don’t give me that face you know it’s the truth! But well, yes, I believe it was really an achievement for you. And I’m proud of what you’ve done. Oh come on, I mean it! I know how you didn’t have enough guts to do it; all for a number of stupid reasons if you ask me.

They’re not stupid? Pfft! Not having an English degree, not being a native speaker, inability to fluently describe what an adverb is or to distinguish who from whom, too lazy to be any good with deadlines – how are these reasons not stupid enough?! And don’t even tell me you believe those bona fide writers really know what’s different from who to whom except the letter M.

Now you believe me? Well, of course I’m proud of you, moron. I know it’s not easy to let the world know how much of an idiot you are. And it really wasn’t so bad, was it? I mean the whole experience. After all, it made you happy. And it’s great fun to stop pretending to be smart and sensible and just let out the idiocy within sometimes.

So there you have it. I just wanted to say, “Well done!” and “Don’t get used to it because I know what you have to do come the third week of this month!”

*Evil laugh time*

Mm, is this the part where I say, “It’s not you, it’s me”? No? Fine, fine.

How about bye, then?

Your amazing-er self,

No. 2

Collaborations and Introductions

I know it’s a little late for the latter, but then again…

Three things.

Let me start by sharing to you the works of my, err, good friend, Landix.

“The Deal” created for the story Tales of the Wind’s Kiss: Devil’s Child

Click to view full image.

“Le Pedofile“, this time for Tales of the Wind’s Kiss: Music Box

Click to view full image.

Now tell me you think they’re horrifyingly beautiful.

I know, I know.

It’s vital you understand here that Landix is a lunatic. I asked for his permission to place a link here to his website but the doofus declined. Yes. Crazy, just crazy I’m telling you.

But he’s also really good, so it’s not much of a question why I collaborated with him. At least to me.

Really now, Landix is not all that bad. A little crazy, but an artist and more importantly, a friend. You’ll be seeing more of him soon. Well, I hope.

Now second, my niche.

I started this blog without much of a niche – more of decided to make an outlet for my random thoughts, rants, and music I’m too chicken to share to my mainstream outlet – the magnificent FB. I was just putting random brain droppings time and again. But very recently, it just dropped on me one late night staring-at -the-ceiling-with-headphones-at full-blast session.

My niche would be to tell stories.

I know it’s another kind of brain droppings, but at least brain droppings you can categorize. Blame it on my control freak streak. But yeah, I have decided to communicate with the world in a new way. This time I’ll use an old friend, “fiction”.

I’ve always loved stories. I learned to read because I was told those boring-looking things called books hold so much of them. I look forward to my father’s bedtime stories as a kid. As a teen, with great reluctance, I wore glasses because I won’t give up this love for stories. The glasses grew thicker with time. Yes, until now.

Maybe it’s the little truths stories always have, even though we call them “fiction“. Many men, women, and children could attest to the great power some of these little truths hold. Still, some of them are also just as what they seem, little.

And yet, it doesn’t make them any less.

I guess I will always love stories. It’s really not something you can stop. It’s part of what makes you you. Or me. Yeah, you get it.

So, logically, I created stories simply because. Like water flows because it is meant to. Like the wind dances and, yes sometimes, destroys. Destiny. Fate. Or simply choice. A choice made with ultimate love.

And like how some people treat their dogs, their dolls, or those things I think come from another planet (they say it’s called cars), I treat these stories as my babies.

There’s only one thing I ask of you. Love them or hate them, but treat these stories with respect. At core, they really meant good. For no story is evil by itself. They are what we, people, make of them. Respect them, and they will pay you back for it.

They always do – or else.

Now for the third and most important part.

Readers, Likers, Commenters, Haters, Followers, Spammers, and my dear Friends, human or not…

I thank you.

For what? Many, many things. Perhaps for licking mooses, for fighting for kids, for sharing less noticed beautiful works of art, for adding beauty to the world, for being a shcmuck of a clown, and a gazillion other as important reasons.

But most of all, for acknowledging that THIS exists.Of course, you know what I mean.

Until then,

J

Featuring: Yiruma – River Flows In You

Been listening and trying to play this day and night. To say that I love this would be an understatement. *sigh*

Do, do, do listen to/watch it on Youtube:

Yiruma – River Flows in You

*image credits*

The Tale of the Stick Man

Once there was a Stick Man who lives in Stick Country with all his Stick Friends.

The Stick Man likes to walk around in Stick Country and stick his nose in all kinds of stick – y stuff.

In one of these nose – sticking hunts, he found a ‘Magazine’ with non – stick-y people on the pages.

He was so jealous of these non – stick-y people and all their shapes and curves that he vowed to do all in his power to stop being stick-y and start being like those magazine people – shape-y.

So he started his non – stick-y quest…

And set out on a journey to “Magazine Country”!

After 48,000 years…

As he entered its gates,

He went back to the gates and saw a sign posted:

And so, with a great incredulity, the stick man found out that the object of his desires…

*The original image of Chloe (girl with the blue-green hair) courtesy of http://lickthestranger.wordpress.com/

Protected: Mirror, Mirror On The World

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Protected: Numbness, Pessimism, Optimism Trio

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Prologue

I learned one new fact of life today.

Happiness Patient J.D. Unresponsive to ECT, Depressant Serum

It seems that as you age you continuously experience new stages of self – discovery. What you think of yourself when you were 18, however certain you were about it at that point in your life, will almost never be the same when you turn 25.

Boo-yah.

Some people say they have been self – assured early in life, but I don’t believe it. Because life changes you, it is a factory where we are all products that need to be  upgraded and enhanced regularly. And those that cannot be changed turn out to be inappropriate and are sure to belong in the bin labeled rejects.

So it’s surprising to me how, say, a piece of literature with a theme concerning self – discovery could be limited only to a category of teen/young adult literature. Ironic, since you can see middle – aged individuals certainly still uncertain about their own identities.

But why do I concern myself with these things?

You see, I plan to experience different things from what I have always been doing – it simply fails to give me a sense of happiness. I am not so proud as to want happiness per se, I merely want a sense of it. There was just no passion (yes, that’s the right word) in what I am used to do.

And lack of passion (or excess of it)  is in fact deadly. It has ended the lives of many notable men, and women of course.

That is why I am about to make this blog  a sort portfolio of the things I would love to AND would do – pictures, stories, social commentaries, rants, random idiocy – and it doesn’t mean it would be in a chronological order. I’m so bored with chronological.

Who isn’t?

*An image I particularly like one googling session. Courtesy of thingsweforget.blogspot.com (obviously :p).