Writing has always relaxed me ever since I was merely a child. My first attempt at poetry was at the tender age of eight when I was in grade 3 when I had gotten shit pissed at the class teacher for punishing me for a crime that I had not committed and written a very angry poem-like-thing (that actually rhymed) in the spirit of self-pity and hurt at the spur of the moment. Well, there was no looking back ever since. Writing is where I have gone to hide myself when the world got a little too harsh for my little mind to bear. It has always been like that. And it still continues to be so. I'm quite fond of hiding among words and letters.
Coming back to the novel, I already have several chapters ready at hand, things I have written now and then, lying around randomly with no prior intention of ever turning them in to a novel. All they need is some editing and voila! My novel shall be a little less than one quarter done. All the characters are indeed from real life and the people I do not like get to have really ugly, horrendous names that they have never even imagined in their most appalling nightmares. Or better yet, I shall just take the liberty of using their real names so that they will become notorious within our little enclosed society and they will have to go through life with my novel on their backs till the day they die. Mua ha ha ha! I'm wicked like that! ;)
I have a very good feeling that it shall be the scandal of the century if it ever gets published, so I wouldn't let it out in the open in my right, conscious and ticking mind. Its going to be a novel of joy, of pain, of suffering, dementia, obsessions, sex, drugs and rock and roll and all the rest of it that your mother warned you about. Writing this is merely an outlet and its not meant to be published unless I suddenly go out of my mind and decide to bask in my moment of glory in true decadent style, taking myself down with it. Lets just see. I really should get a publisher so that I could tell him where I keep all my secret stash of scandalous documents so that I will at least be famous when I die. Sigh.......
Talking of sex, I have been wondering. It stopped being a taboo subject a long time back and people have been talking about it for a very long time. Some even consider it "cool" to be talking about sex but once it comes down to the actual act, its all hushes and whispers of "You know, they are doing it noh men. Chee, before marriage also. Shame, shame!" Huddling together, blush and cover their faces as if they've found King Solomon's treasure trove of juicy gossip.
Sex is a great reason for getting married in this country where pre-marital sex is frowned, winced and scowled upon. Me as the little-too-rebellious teenager that I was, always thought of marriage as a life long licence to be entitled to regular unprotected sex and getting one's parents to haul the workload of the screeching, pooping, burping consequences that pop out every nine months, scornfully rejected the whole sacred institution of marriage and shocked the parents who thought me to be way too young to be even thinking "that three letter word". Well, sex indeed is the one relief that these helpless Asian individuals have in committing themselves to that all too cumbersome institute of marriage me thinks. Candles, incense, silk blindfolds, ice, cookie dough, whips and chains, gags, ropes, leather and vinyl, fluffy handcuffs, feathers, stethoscopes and the whole lot, drinking straws (yes, drinking straws) and well, who could resist all that and more? The possibilities are endless. Its just a matter of using that imagination of yours that rots away in an unused corner of the brain.( I can already hear the mental shocks, gasps and silently uttered chee's and hissing) :P
And all this talk about marriage why? Because if you're past twenty five and still unmarried, people just assume that there is something wrong with you. Not that I've faced that problem personally, its just that this whole ordeal of finding a girl for the Brother Dearest is getting on my nerves. And what's his excuse for not yet being miserably settled with one or two toddlers slobbering all over him? He's too tall! That must have been the lamest excuse that I have ever heard in the entire human history. Although it is a fact that he vehemently rejects anyone less that 5ft 6.
Anyways me off now. Got to write at least a chapter of that scandalous novel of mine (malicious, glinting eyes) Catch y'all with updates soon. Till then be good or else you'l end up in my novel with a fugly, hairy name :P Ciao! :)
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