SC: Walk Away - Part I

Sorry I haven't followed-up with the last part of the "Them" series, but I usually write these from "sudden bursts of inspiration" (aka random thoughts xP), so here is another, different one. This one will probably be 2-part series, unless it becomes interesting enough to write even more. But for now, here's part I.

"I'm not dragging you into this."
Excuses, excuses. Yet he continued on.
"If anyone asks, you don't know me, alright?"
She was so shocked the words did not register in her head at first. After everything... was it all just a joke to him?
He pushed a wad of bills into her hands. "This should take care of everything." And with that, he walked out of her life. She wondered if he really thought the money would make all the difference.
Nothing would. Except...

Then again, he didn't know. And he never would.

WF, DC, KJ... Part I - WongFu Productions

If you're wondering what all those "acronyms" in the title stand for, well read on and find out! I've actually been meaning to write this for a long time, but the procrastination of a true giftee kept me from doing so. I'm glad I can finally take the time to share this with you, because... it's really awesome. xD

It all started off with AJ Rafael, who, if you don't know already, is a popular "YouTube artist". I was looking up his new music video ("When We Say - Juicebox" - you should really go check it out by the way). I found out that the video had been produced by a "WongFu Productions". Curious, because I'd liked the video so much, I decided to see just exactly what WongFu Productions actually was. Little did I know what lay in store on their channel...

The first video that caught my eye was called "Just A Nice Guy". Now I remember it as the video that got me hooked. It is a short film about a guy who is nice, but perhaps a little too nice... every girl just thinks of him as a friend, or big brother. With several hilarious attempts to get out of his situation and a heartwarming ending, right away I knew I had to watch more.

Next I remember watching a few other shorts with Yaning, after finishing editing our PSA. "The Turn Off" was really funny, and all the videos in "The One Days" series were simply breathtaking. This company is... awesome, I remember thinking to myself. Call it what you like, but I started getting addicted to their videos.

Perhaps though, it was also time to find out a little more about them. After a little reading and Google-ing, I found out that they were an independent film-making company. All their productions are posted both on YouTube, and their website http://www.wongfuproductions.com/. The "company" is actually only three friends - Philip Wang, Wesley Chan, and Ted Fu. They met in University (UCSD), and got into film production. But enough about them... back to their videos.

If I were to list all my favourite videos from them, the list would probably go on forever, but I strongly suggest you check them out. Their videos are exceptional.

There is one video I would like to point out though, and that is "When Five Fell". It is actually their most recently released short, and also related to one of their "The One Days" series videos, I think. But the reason I mention this one is because I think this is one of their very best shorts. The scenes and clips, as well as just the whole concept of the video, are just so beautiful! This one is definitely one of my favourites.

So number 1 of the acronyms are revealed. Stay tuned to find out what the others mean, but most of all... check out WongFu! :)

The Meeting: Part Two

Ok, so this part came a lot sooner than I expected. Enjoy.

***

the hell hapened to u?

wasnt my fault

did u c teh look on dons face?!

y?

it was so funny i coudnt stop myself

well look where its landed u

Five minutes later, the table was dry, though sticky sugar streaks prevented anyone from resting their arms on it. Everybody had just returned and seated themselves, and after receiving no response about whether someone still wanted any of the cookies I’d infected, I was IMing with Jane, abusing the free service our company gave us. Like food, IM was something everyone took advantage of. And those mint candies at the reception desk, too. Despite our budget, the senior staff had been able to afford to get the very finest quality sweets, “to please our clients,” they would say, but everyone knew that not a single outsider had actually been in the building for two weeks. Any communication was always done by email, phone, or live chat now. Very rarely would a conference require the presence of the customers.

is she gonna start now or what

iunno

heard she wants to make some changes w/ the game

ehhhhh...

Jane and I had worked together for half a year now, along with the rest of company on this video game that was supposed to be a sequel to Live, which was basically an RPG/simulation of living in the streets. It had sold quite well, and many fans had emailed in with requests for a sequel. So here we were, twenty-some people discussing game play, plot, characters, features, settings, and graphic art, trying to save a company that narrowly drowned in debt after Stalker had been named the eighth worst game of 2007. Even that had been an improvement over Sunrise which received the same award in sixth place six years back.

“If Inferno Games does not pull itself together, it won’t even live to see the sun set.”

That was pretty much the most benign statement we received from anyone, and she happened to be a game reviewer. Most commentators just typed,

This game is pure sh!t!!!!!!

Or, This game is just sh1t!!!!!!!!11

Or simply just, THIS IS FUCKING SHIT in cases where profanity didn’t equal getting banned.

Live represented our struggle to “get off the streets and back into the competitive zone”, we were told by the creative director. Personally, I thought that the game was terrible, but obviously some people had enjoyed it. Enough so that we wouldn’t have to file for bankruptcy protection, anyways. Live Free was almost at the halfway point in development and carried on from where Live had left off. At the end, the player (named Flare) had been arrested and sent to jail for crimes he didn’t commit, set up by the corrupt Illusion Company, and so now he will have to plan a jailbreak. After a successful attempt, Flare will continue living the street life, except now with the added challenge of staying hidden from the police as well as spies from Illusion, and finding out what the company wants from him. If Eden wanted to make some changes, they had better not be too large.

“Alright, we’re running a tiny bit late now,” Eden began, making be blush yet again. “But I feel that it’s important for everyone to be comfortable with each other. So allow me to make a quick introduction. My name is Eden Farley. I was born in Canada: Owen Sound, Ontario. It’s a small city just north-west of Toronto. I moved here to Victoria a few weeks ago, and I must say, it’s quite different to be looking at an ocean instead of a lake everyday! British Columbia has a beautiful coastline...” Whatever she was saying was beautiful was nothing compared to her... Mmmm... That thick, voluminous, light brown hair hanging down past her shoulders. The perfect hourglass shape. Those seductive green eyes and luscious red lips. And that huge set of b –

stop starin like that

its creepy

and you look liek a retard

Oops. I decided to play dumb.

What?

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

sure ya don’t (^_^)

look, u just used punctuation and capitals

always a sign

:D

Damn, I couldn’t argue against that. Formality is what I always add when lying. Too bad Jane knew me so well.

just plz try not to stare

its embarrassing for me2 ya know

how so?

I work w/ u

and talk

cant be seen w/ some perv

o thanks...

lol, welcome

“I’ve gone through a few other jobs before I settled in with video game production,” Eden was saying. I resisted the urge to ask whether one of them was pole dancing. Glancing behind me, Don’s eyes were glued to the woman, not blinking at all. His mouth was slightly open, and the corners twitched upward as Eden turned around to draw something on the whiteboard behind her. His gaze had shifted a little lower down on her body. I checked the time on my phone: it was 9:26. The meeting was supposed to have started at 9:00 and would end at 10:30. So far we hadn’t covered a thing, and Eden was still going on about how her older brother and sister loved to pull pranks on her. I could sense the impatience from the Importants growing. They began whispering to each other, frowning, and glancing around frequently. I hoped she was almost done; my mind was starting to wander.

“Er, Mrs. Farley, we’d appreciate if you wrapped up this discussion. We need to get started.”

“Oh, yes of course. Sorry, I got a bit carried away.” She gave a sheepish smile, and then dropped the blue marker she was still holding onto the carpet. It rolled under the table. She bent to retrieve it, and my heart sank as I realized that she had been addressed as “Mrs”. I guess I was still actually hoping I could get together with her, but there was no time to think. My other cell phone had just rung. Double shit.

For the second time in half an hour, everyone’s heads turned towards me. I’d forgotten that I was carrying two phones, and had only silenced the Blackberry. There was a bang, followed by a cry of pain as Eden hit her head on the underside of the table, startled by the noise.

“Sorry,” I muttered. With my face flushed again, I walked out as swiftly as possible without actually running into the hallway, the sound of Justin Beiber blasting out of my pocket. Closing the door quickly, I cursed and whipped out my HTC Evo 4G. I already knew who was calling; it was my brother Jacob. I vaguely remembered him playing with my phone last night at my place. He must have switched the ringtone as a joke or something because I just got the phone yesterday, and last time I checked, I had a classic phone tone. The number on the screen confirmed my theory.

“Jacob, you asshole!”

“Now, now. That’s no way to talk to your brother!” he replied in mock reprimand.

“Why the hell did you change my ringtone?! I was in a meeting, too! You said you’d call before nine, and you were supposed to call my business phone! Do you know how embarrassing this is?”

“Eh. Sorry, but I got into a bit of trouble with old Rusty, and I forgot your number at his place.” I was about to ask who Rusty was, but there was a loud screeching.

“What – Jacob, are you on the road? With a cell phone?”

“Nope...” Then, “Yup.” More screeching. I decided to hold back my question about how he obtained it.

“But driving and talking is illegal! And why are you driving so quickly? Slow down! You’re going to get tagged by the police or something.”

“Too late. Why do you think I’m speeding already?”

“Oh my God... JACOB...” I hid my face in my free palm. My Blackberry vibrated again, but I ignored it.

“Calm down, bro. I promise you I won’t get caught.” I could hear the sirens now, growing louder, as well as several honks from nearby cars.

“You’d better not. How the hell are you going to shake off the police?”

“Oh, shit. Ran a red light. Hmmm? You say somthin’?”

“HOW ARE YOU GETTING RID OF THE POLICE?” I looked up and noticed that a woman walking down the corridor had suddenly stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened and she turned around and left quickly, her heels muffled by the carpeting.

“...That’s a great idea! If I can’t outdrive them, I’ll stop them from driving.”

“WHAT?! NO! That’s not what I meant.”

“Uh oh. Here comes another police car. Damn, they’re good. Look, bro. I can’t really hear what you’re saying right now. I’ll call you back soon, kay? Bye.” Click.

I slowly lowered the phone, staring blankly at the whitewashed wall. Without realising it, I had walked to the other end of the hall. Great, my brother was going to go to jail now, all because of his stupid dealings. Only after a minute did I remember that there was an important meeting going on, and that my Blackberry had vibrated again.

lol, beiber? nice

didnt kno u liked him

I AM NOT A FAN OF HIM!! >:(

Reluctantly, I shuffled back into the meeting room.

***

The Harbourfront

[This is a challenge suggested by halalcohol (probably because I've been in a topic rut recently - I just keep rejecting things I can write about, and some of them weren't half bad. Sort of.) Write about our trip on a boat, without using the word BOAT or WATER. Nor derivatives or compounds thereof, such as SAILBOAT, or WATERY. ]

As a Torontonian, I really don't know our downtown area very well. I could find for you places on a map, but that's with a map. Anyone with some sense of direction could find things on a map. If you asked me where a certain district was in correlation to another, I couldn't tell you. There is, however one particular place in downtown Toronto that I am getting a little sick of - the Harbourfront Centre. Seriously, though. We keep going back for field trips. 7 times so far. Not that I was counting.

I was more excited this time, though, because we were going to board the schooner KAJAMA instead of being cooped up inside the Harbourfront centre. On board, we were sorted into three rotary groups for the different educational stations. First, though, we had to raise the sails. It wasn't very hard until the end, when the sail required a lot more effort to raise. It was actually sort of funny to watch, because there were four of us on the same rope, so it looked like there were hands appearing of of nowhere.

The groups took turns steering the vessel - starbord, port - testing a lake sample for the oxygen level (15 ppm approx.), and learning about nautical navigation. I even got to drop a leadline not made of lead overboard! We passed by some interesting sights during the tour (we even waved to some people at police camp) and were baked by the sun.

Back on land, we ate lunch at the Queen's Quay terminal (by the way, "quay" IS pronounced like "key," if you care enough to know or remember) and had some time left over to explore the shops. Well, not really. Most people headed straight to Tim Horton's and the neighbouring ice cream/candy shop. Hey, we're kids. We like our sugar. And, it seems, caffeine, too.

Anyways, time to run this through MS word and have it check if I've met the challenge!

~Yaning

(I haven't written that in a while...)

Fairytales and False Hope

Once upon a time, there was a princess, born into royalty. She had absolutely no skill or common sense. When fairies were invited to her christening to magically give her the beauty, wit, and talent that she obviously lacked, an uninvited fairy cursed her with a prophecy that she would die after pricking her finger on a spindle. A good fairy happened to be by her side, and changed the curse so that she would be woken after meeting the most perfect person in her life.

And so, after a few years of her father's desperate attempts to shield her from fatally pricking her finger and snuffing it, she was intelligent enough to ask a mysterious woman in her home if she could try spinning. The finger got cut, the blood came out, and down she dropped. The good fairy then returned again and shut everyone down, probably so that nobody could ever feel pain again (how realistic). She also placed a barrier around the castle.

The prince that she had always dreamed of dared to investigate and woke her and everyone else with a kiss. They lived happily ever after.

At first, I just rolled my eyes at fairy tales like these. I heard them, and went, "whatever". But now, I only have one thing to say:

Damn you.

I never thought I believed in happy endings. I always assumed that if some crisis ever came up in my life, I'd deal with it myself. Looks like I was wrong. I did exactly what Miss Beauty did. I pricked my own finger. I almost killed myself. I waited. And waited. And what happened? Nothing. Nothing except that I was now being consumed by my problems. But the prince will arrive soon, right? I can hear him outside my castle right now! Hmmm... Looks like he stopped for coffee at Starbucks first. But he'll get here eventually, and everything will be alright.

This is the moral that I get from fairy tales and happy endings. They're polluting my mind. They can teach a lesson of patience, sure, but patience without intuition and initiative are absolutely LETHAL. If everyone in the world just went to sleep whenever they had a problem, what do you think would happen? Yes, the sun would still rise and set at regular intervals, but what will we become?

Notice how in Sleeping Beauty, our beloved protagonist does nothing whatsoever. Her good looks are drawn from extensive magic surgery, and she attracts her soulmate via her "exterior". They all just happened to be in the right place at the right time. She's too stupid to know that she shouldn't touch the spindle herself and ends up half dead. She gets her ass saved and lives feeling wonderful. Now all the little boys and girls are going around filled with a serial killing imposter: HOPE.

Hope is the most addictive substance in the Universe, with love and pride following close behind. The mortality rate from complete hope withdrawal is 100%. I'm not saying that you shouldn't be able to enjoy regular doses, but the moment you're addicted, you're in for it. So, these children are going around expecting that everything will be laid out like a highway to paradise, but one day while going across that road, they'll get careless and crash into the wall, or something. It's painful. Very. And some don't even recover from their first accident. They stay there, driving at a snail's pace, mortified of what will happen if they speed up again. Unfortunately, some of them give up, and never make it there. We usually call this suicide.

But then again, the whole point of driving onward is that there is a chance of a return on our investment. There might be something better, and we hope that there is. Therefore, it is up to the individual to decide whether or not it is worth it to keep hoping. After all, that feeling is bliss, but in this world, it is a charlatan nevertheless.

Writer's Block

I feel like I haven't posted in the longest time. Too much has happened since my last post, but I still don't have any good topic to blog about, so I guess I'll just talk about some things that have been going on lately.

First of all, am I glad it's the last month of school! So much drama, combined with the heat, and many other negative factors I will be describing in detail in a bit. Could we just speed things up and skip to summer? Or straight to high school?

Lately, one of the pressing issues in our school is the fact that all water is not up to standards in terms of drinking, causing students to have to bring their own water to school. to solve this problem, a certain VERY intelligent person known only as BOB decided to purchase many cases of low-quality bottled water, and distribute them to students when needed. First of all, I'd rather drink the contaminated water than the bottled water, that's how bad it was. Also, students began to waste water, and litter the bottles all over the school property. Great idea, Bob.

I'm also extremely concerned about my fate, as the loss of a Lucky Seven (basketball) game has led to a dare concerning me dancing at the graduation dinner. Have I mentioned I can't dance?

Maybe I should stop being so negative. Some things are going very well, like my group's Design and Tech project (catapult) which we thought we'd never finish, almost no more tests, and daily treats baked by our wonderful homeroom teacher!

Hey guess what? It seems I have been able to talk about a bunch of random things. I'm going to stop now, as this is getting rather lengthy. :)

Night, gifties!

Note: Our water is contaminated by lead. ~ Halalcohol

SC: Them - Part II

I know it's been awhile since I've posted, but here is part II of my most recent SC series. I will write the third and final part soon, so keep checking!

"What the heck is that?" She practically shrieked.
MOM! IT'S NOTHING. SHEESH. Overreaction, much?
"Then take it off."
Um. About that...
"Yes...? Well what are you waiting for? OFF!" Now she was on the verge of becoming hysterical.
... I would, except... I can't.
"You think you can fool me? Don't be stupid."
Why would I lie about something like this?
"Fine. In that case, you can go up to your room and stay there until it comes off."
I headed up the stairs, silent. Let her think she'd won.
But if I didn't go to school for the rest of the year, she'd better not complain.

The Meeting: Part One

Before I forget again, here is the story fragment I've promised. It's actually been sitting there for about five days. I kept telling myself to edit it, but I never got to that point, so there may be some mistakes/ awkwardness. It's a bit lengthy, but I couldn't find a good place to chop it off at, so I've left it how it is.

***

I sat there staring at the box of Tim Horton’s donuts, trying to decide whether or not to take my third honey cruller. It was tempting, but this was a business meeting, and it wouldn’t seem very prudent to act like I was only here for the food. But then again, who wasn’t? Jane had strategically shifted her red plastic chair so that the coffee machine by the back window was at a huggable distance; her new seatmates were the sugar and milk bins. She usually went through at least four cups a day, always with three milk and two sugars. Andrew had been slowly pulling the cookie platter towards himself a millimetre at a time, his eyes darting around nervously as though performing an act of public indecency. Adrian was stealing macaroons under the pretence of offering them to others, and Don wasn’t even bothering to hold back. He was belting down anything edible as though he’d been locked in the loo for a few days, though with his brains, I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually had been.

These observations comforted me, and before the guilt could resurface, a white chocolate macadamia cookie magically appeared in my hand. The meeting hadn’t even started yet, and three platters of sweets were MIA. Noticing that the liquid inside the coffee dispenser had vanished instantly last meeting, the managers had realized that perhaps two is better than one, and so this time, they’d added a juice jug as well. Unsurprisingly, the fluid level in the juice container was still quite full, while the coffee had to be replaced by another dispenser about two minutes after people started settling in.

A bunch of important looking guys wearing expensive Hugo Boss, Armani, and other every designer you could think of strode unwaveringly to the back of the room where the not-so-important coffee machine (in my opinion, as I despised coffee) sat on a small table beside Jane, who clearly thought of the contrary as her expression turned from interest to sheer horror as they each took a cup and began serving themselves. She looked as though she’d been condemned to Hell as one of them (my supervisor) asked her to move up towards the large table everyone else was clustered around. Muttering darkly to nobody in particular, she dragged her chair along the ground so that the leg intentionally scraped across one of the Important’s dress shoes. I rolled my eyes, and noticed that I was now holding a peanut butter cookie. It’s interesting how automatic some actions can be. As I bathed myself in the salty-sweet flavour with strong hints of real butter, Eden, our new project manager walked into the room, once again wearing as little as the dress code would allow. She had only been given the position yesterday, as our old manager had become too ill to continue working, or so he claimed. When she had walked through our floor, heads turned from behind every cubicle.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Don had smiled as he looked up from his computer. I remember telling him to shut up and get back to programming, while secretly stealing glances every half a second, silently begging her to take her time.

Presently, I shot a look at Don, whose expression had become hypnotized the second he had noticed her. Bits of chocolate cake were falling from his mouth onto the table, much to the disgust of his seatmates. I shook my head and sighed, lifting my Styrofoam cup to take a draught of orange juice. Eden looked around at the audience, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

“Alright, everyone, our meeting is about to –”

PFFFFFFFFFFT!!!! Oh… SHIT! I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. As soon as she started speaking, Don’s face lit up with the most skanky smile I’d ever seen, and there was a lot of liquid in my mouth. The table was instantly covered in a spray of warm orange juice, and so was everyone sitting across from me. There were a few cries of surprise as people realized what just hit them. Then for a split second, there was silence, and in that split second, I wished that I were a wizard and could Disapparate. I even tried hoping. No such luck. All eyes were on me now, as if I were hosting the meeting. I didn’t need to look up to know that. Instead, I stared at the table, my face flushed like a stop sign, noticing that the full tray of cookies in front of me didn’t look quite as appetizing anymore, covered in light orange shades.

“Mr. Wilson, are you alright?” asked my supervisor.

“...Yes,” was all I could manage. Then, “I’m fine. Sorry.” But I wasn’t fine at all. I had just completely humiliated myself in front of all the Importants, as well as my co-workers. Now Eden would never look at me again...

Several people with stained clothes excused themselves from the table and sped towards the washroom, and there was an awkward silence as my face continued to transform into a red giant star.

“Well, now that we’re missing quite a few people, why don’t we wait a few minutes before continuing?” suggested Eden. She attempted to sound as though nothing at all had happened as she dropped a small stack of paper towels beside me, but in my head I imagined her eyes accusing me of being the source of all of her problems. I was mortified, and it was all because of Don. That stupid pig. I was getting more and more pissed off at that slacker. As a matter of fact, I was so infuriated that my leg began to vibrate. Then I realized that my “leg vibrations” weren’t coming from my leg at all. Someone had just texted me. Still not looking up, I reached into my dress pant pocket for my Blackberry. My hands were shaking, and so as I lifted my phone up, I dropped it onto the sugar-water covered desk. I swore rather loudly, and my face began to pulse again as heads turned towards me. I shook off as much juice as I could, and then wiped it with a paper towel.

YOU HAVE RECEIVED A NEW TEXT MESSAGE

CHECK IGNORE

I checked it. It was from Jane.

lol, have fun w/ the rest of the meeting! :D

I promptly texted back.

shut up

“Uh, Mr. Wilson, maybe you should clean that up. It’s starting to drip onto the carpet,” Eden commented, looking worried.

Great. Now she thought I was irresponsible too. It’s not my fault I was momentarily distracted. Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I started wiping at the table with the whole stack. Two seconds later, I realized that it would have been smarter to separate the layers. Another two seconds, and I noticed her eyes on me with a slightly disdainful look. Ehhhhh...

***

Natural Invasion

Lately I've been kinda tired. And I've also been having all sorts of weird thoughts and dreams. So at first, when I heard the chirping noises and mechanical beeping coming from my washroom, I ignored it. I assumed that it was coming from one of the rooms upstairs or the adjacent family room. But then I realized that nothing we owned made those sorts of sounds, nor did anything I've ever heard of. That's when I assumed that I was going crazy. Oh well, I thought to myself. I was just about to use the toilet, when I noticed that the sound was coming from the fan. I looked up at the white, square grate covering the pipe that channeled air outside, and suddenly there were clanging sounds, like metal against metal.

"...Mom..."

"Yes?"

"There's something..." But then the noises stopped, quite as suddenly as I had noticed them.

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing... It's just that I heard... something... nevermind." And then it came again. The chirping and mechanical beeping, followed by more clanging. "Uh, mom. There are chirping noises coming from the washroom." If that sentence sounded ridiculous, she didn't show it. She walked into the room, and for two seconds, there was silence. I was just about to justify that I wasn't imagining things when, surely enough, the disturbance came back. The first thing my mom did was curse.

"It must be a raccoon!" Then she continued to retell a story about how one of her friends had had a raccoon stuck in their pipes, and how they had tried to scare it away by blasting music and pounding the walls, but nothing worked, so they had to pay three hundred dollars to have it removed. I was pretty sure that raccoons did not make chirping noises, but that wasn't the point. Whatever was stuck in there needed to be removed before it caused any damage. My mom took the end of a mop and jabbed it at the grate. She was greeted by more clanging, and I tried to "hear out" (you know, like sniff out?) how many legs it had. I couldn't tell, but it definitely did not sound like a quadruped. Maybe a biped? We tried turning the fan on, but nothing happened.

I went outside to take a look at the end of the pipe, walking along the exterior of the house past the green bin, and there I found my answer. There was a bird perched in a seemingly impossible position: the side of the wall. It looked as though it was just floating there, but as I got closer, I realized that there was a large circular hole in the siding. The bird had somehow managed to remove the cover and had decided that the pipe was the perfect location to build a nest.

As I approached, the bird turned it's head towards me, then promptly took flight. Another bird that had been waiting on a chimney flew towards the nest with a twig in its mouth, but seeing that there was an intruder in the shape of a human, made a hairpin swerve and soared off. My mom came out, and I explained what I had seen. We noticed that the cover had dropped onto the ground in our neighbour's backyard. I pushed the gate which turned out to be unlocked. We brought out a ladder and replaced the cover, which had broken, but would have to do for now.

I received a jolt in my bladder, and remembered that I had had to go. Running back inside, I headed towards the washroom. Just as I was about to release, I heard clanging noises again.

SC: Them - Part I

This is a new 3-part series of short clips that I am currently writing. They follow three different people as they experience "them", a mysterious object. As the series continues I will reveal more and more of what "them" is, but the exact object is for you to figure out! :) Here's part one.

How was she supposed to know what it would do to her? It seemed ordinary enough… Besides, almost everyone at school had them! Fine, there were rumours of what they did to people – apparently once you put them on, you could never to take them off again. But the curiosity was just too much for her. She had to know. So when they fell out from a classmate’s backpack, she took it as the perfect opportunity. Now she knows… and they can’t come off.

Storytime... Tomorrow... And Cabaret

So, after reading JPod (Douglas Coupland; it's a very unique book, I would recommend it, and there's a TV series based on it that was cancelled after a while) I've been inspired to write a short story fragment about a business meeting fiasco. If I like how it turns out, I might continue it, but unfortunately I don't know much about the workplace, so it might seem a little unrealistic. And like a good little procrastinator, I will post it tomorrow... errr... actually, maybe the day after... or the day after that... Hey, you can't blame me, I'm busy with Cabaret right now, and writing takes time.

On a different note, I have random songs stuck in my head. On Tuesday, California Girls ruled my brain, so while everyone was going, "UNDER THE SEA, UNDER THE SEA!" (Little Mermaid), I was thinking *pluck* *slap* pluck* *slap*.

I am not looking forward to returning to an uninterrupted class environment...

CA-BA-REEEEEEEET!

What good is sitting, alone in your room? come hear the music play...

Did that song sound familiar? Well, if you attend our school, chances are you've been singing it nonstop for the last two weeks. Did you recognize the lyrics? (hint: search up Liza Minelli.) Did you find it? If you guessed Cabaret, yes, that's correct! Every two years, our school holds a cabaret performance, and this is just happens to be the year. On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday this week, parents and family members will be attending a two-hour long show full of dazzling performances. At least, I hope they turn out dazzling.

Are you wondering what a cabaret is right now? Well, wonder no longer. The definition of cabaret is: A restaurant or nightclub providing short programs of live entertainment. Our show will include many acts, and I will list them below.

Not in any particular order, there will be: Chamber Band, Chamber Strings Symphony, Senior Strings Symphony, Choir, Ukulele, class drama, tunes from "Oliver," dance club performances, class dances, black light performances, taekwondo performance, Chinese harp, singing, Bollywood dancing, and a black light performance. On top of this varied program, the audience will be treated to refreshments as they enjoy the show.

In total, more than half the school's population is involved. That is roughly 250 people, all performing an act at some point in the cafeteria/auditorium stage. Of course, a large number of these are gifteds! And I'm proud of that fact. If you are now thinking to yourself-how the HECK will all these kids be organized, HOW THE HECK is right.

For the last 3 weeks, classes have been put on temporary hold, with groups constantly being called to the cafeteria to practice transitioning and to figure out seating plans. Over and over we have sang, and played instruments, and danced.

Today is the day before the performance. Everybody is tired, and sick of being cooped up in the gym all day, waiting to be called for their performance. So tomorrow, when the curtain opens, and the spotlights roam as students begin singing the Cabaret song, please pay your fullest attention to the cast. for we have all worked extremely hard, and sacrificed countless hours of being squished next to people we dislike, and even being yelled at by our vice-principal, just so we can entertain the audience.
And don't mind the several non-smiling faces. give those kids a break, they've gone through a lot in the last three weeks.

Well, the 24 hour countdown has begun, and I will end this post in true cabaret fashion and sing:

It's only a cabaret old chum, AND I LOVE A CABARET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SC: The Note - Part II

Five years passed. There was no point anymore.
His "parents" had taken him in for the money.

He had no friends.

The kids at school taunted and bullied.

Ending it would be easy. In fact, there were so many choices...
The 5mm, right under the bed, to end it quick.

The painless way, falling right into a deep sleep.

The overpass of any highway would do the job in a matter of seconds.

As he thought over his options, he glanced around the tiny, cluttered room, his sole solace over the last few years. He ran his fingers along the meagre shelf of books, the minuscule desk... Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper fell to the floor.

647-555-6014

Almost involuntarily, he picked up the phone and dialled.
"Jimmy? Is that you?"
He hung up without speaking. But it was enough... for now.

Oddly Infuriating: Passers-by

I'm walking down a street, alone. It's a Wednesday afternoon, five o'clock, and I'm coming home late from school. I've just gotten off the bus, making sure to say a routine "thank you" to the driver. The rush of traffic is loud, but within moments, it's as though a door has just closed behind me. I walk down a narrow alley into the surrounding residential area, minding my own business, reflecting on my day. Then I notice a person about twenty metres ahead, walking in my direction. Receiving a twinge of annoyance, I continue walking, but my train of thought has completely derailed. With a ten metre clearance, I 'm on autopilot; I start to walk faster, my body stands taller. I keep my eyes staring straight at the ground, my head tilted downwards as though scanning for pennies. My eyes dart up repeatedly, and at the two metre clearance, I finally lock onto the eyes of the unknown passer-by. It's a young man, probably in his early twenties. He's wearing a plain grey jacket and jeans. Right before we pass, I edge my body sideways, as though he's carrying some sort of disease. Then it's as though I'm waking up from a dream. In that moment, the only things that existed were him and me. In that moment, the only thing I could see was him; the only things I could hear were our footsteps and a slight crinkling of his jacket. As my surroundings bloom back into existance and my heart rate slows, I exhale, realizing that I hadn't been breathing.

Whether it be walking past someone or cutting in front of them, I always go through that gruesome proceedure of feelings and actions. Unless it's a friend, I cannot bear these arbitrary encounters. I guess it has to do with a fear of judgement, because I always feel like I'm passing through airport security and they are the probes that can scan into my soul. Even worse is when others are stationary, set up as though to purposefully delve into the brains of those who appear within range. But by far the most dreaded of my passing worries is when the bystander turns out to be someone I once knew: an old friend who I hadn't talked to for years. I'd rather take a mile long detour than be caught in the awkward concentrate of decisions of whether to say something or keep silent.

Hopefully I will eventually outgrow this erratic behaviour, which has led to... uhhh... well, it hasn't really affected me in the long term, or anyone else for that matter. I guess there are more irrational things to fear, like balloons. Who doesn't like balloons? Or mustard. I mean, I don't really like mustard, but a mustard phobia? Come on... Unless someone attempted to murder you by force feeding you with mustard, I don't see what one could strongly have against it.

This will likely conclude my Oddly Infuriating series... Unless I can think of some more weird things.

SC: The Note - Part I

Just if you're wondering, this SC is in two parts. They are two seperate ones, but they are linked together. Here is Part I... stay tuned for Part II!

"Jimmy!"
Auntie?
"Yes, it's me. Good to see you!"
Where is this place? Where happened to mommy and daddy?
"I'm so sorry honey... they're gone."
I WANT TO GO HOME!!!
"Jimmy, listen to me. We're going to find you a nice new home, and nice parents that will take care of you, ok? I would do it myself but..."
AUNTIE!!! DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!!!
She took out a piece of paper and a pen.
"Here's my number, Jimmy. You can call me anytime, alright?"
Then he was led off, sobbing. It broke her heart, but she knew it was for the best.

20 Minutes

With all the things that have been going on lately,I haven't been able to find time to post. Until now. So don't worry, I didn't disappear like SOME other people.

Anyways, starting from now, I have exactly 20 minutes before I have to go study music history. Today's topic will be a discussion of why manga and Asian drama watchers should not be discriminated against.

Let's start with manga. The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines it as "a Japanese comic book or graphic novel." There are many different genres, but I only read one type, yes, that is known as shoujo, defined as "a work intended and primarily written for females. Usually involves a lot of romance and strong character development."

Now for the question. Why are shoujo manga readers discriminated the most? I absolutely do not understand. There are so many good reasons to read shoujo manga! The cheesy story lines and impossibly happy endings always help distract me from terrible Tuesdays, or when I feel down. Also, the constant funny scenarios help people loosen up, and take things less seriously. I bet that if a health study was conducted, manga readers on a whole would be less likely to suffer from pressure related problems. *see exception at end of post.

I really would like to cover manga in greater detail, but I just realized I have one minute left. So I think I'll leave the details to [h.e.n] to deal with later, as she is the true expert.

-I just got an extension! Yay! (Which means I have five more to briefly talk about Asian dramas...hehehe)-

Okay, so um, Asian dramas are basically the same deal. However, they also have something else that is very special. Unlike Western media, most of Asia seems to have a stricter moral code, because as of now, I haven't seem any x-rated activity while watching anything. This mean I can watch drama in peace, without worrying about being flashed, or having to fast forward. Another benefit is that because so many Asian movies and drams are pirated, they appear on various websites, including easy-access sites such as you tube.

Also, they constantly keep you in check with the other side of the world. the majority of our parents and extended family are from Asia, and still live in our home countries. Every once in a while, we may wonder what would have happened if we never came to Canada, or if our parent never came to Canada. These dramas give us a window to daydream, imagine, or laugh at unfortunate things that may have happened to us if we did not emigrate.

Well, my time's up. Take some time to consider things, and check out some manga and dramas. Your spirits will surely be lifted, and then you won't point and laugh at those five girls giggling about the latest volume of Vampire Knight, or something.

*manga and dramas are VERY time consuming. They are not recommended to people who are unable to manage time well, aka procrastinators. they may result in really late nights up trying to complete assignments if abused.