Saturday, October 12, 2002

The Discovery
The Decision
The Boxing Match
The Improbable Connection

and the Long Short Screenplay

Monday, October 07, 2002

Three characters. I’m not sure which is female, but I want one to be female. One is Chinese, one Malay, one Indian. They are Singaporeans. They are crime fighters.

The Chinese is an ah beng type character, uncouth, loudmouthed, but very cultured. In kung fu that is. He the aggressive type, the fighter of the team. He is not the unthinking sort, but then he thinks nothing can’t be solved by some rough and tumble. He is well versed in his Chinese tradition, observing the customs and mythology to the dot, but he’s also a trendy teenager who wants to be cool. Often, these two worlds clash in him, and he is beginning to be annoyed at following tradition. He’s in love with an ah-lian, but every time he tries to ask her to be his stead, something crops up, most often it’s his call to duty as a crime fighter, and he begins to dread his crime fighting life because it keeps him from getting his girl. More and more he wants to tell the ah-lian his secret identity hoping she’ll understand, for if he delays any longer she will definitely fly away. She likes him and is annoyed at his not asking her out.

His relationship with the other two in the team is that of intense loyalty. He cares for them like brothers, and will fight fiercely for them. Occasionally he thinks the other two are a little lax in exterminating crime, but he’s yet to understand the full tao of balance between good and evil.

The Malay is a punk rocker, and irritably points out the difference when people call him a mat rocker.

To be continued…
Science Friction

A+B=C
But Karen doesn't wasnt to been seen
So CxB=A
Brandon had a wonderful day

Fuck fuck fuck fuck
Science Friction

Two day offs would be MC square
how do you fare
at work when it's not you that hate's it
its work

Science Friction
Fantasy imagination with lasers and space travel
and high tech excuses for simple uses

Comets my Assteroid
what's inside MEteorite
left or wrong but not...
yeah right

Arty Farty without Artistry
what's that shit anyway
can i take your word for it?
hello. started a log of my very own. so far i'm not telling any of the people i know about it. not right now.

I think that diaries and weblogs are excuses for people to be self indulgent. but we need that, we're people. Ironically, first we indulge ourselves here, then when someone else reads it, we love the feeling of being indulged. it's sort of this twisted logic that we indulge ourselves so that others might indulge us. It's like most suicide cases. Face it, if you really wanted to die you would've leapt off a twenty storey building at 2.30am instead of locking yourself in at lunchtime swearing to your parents you're gonna cut your wrist.

I'd like to feel safe. Safe to scream out the names of fuckers and bitches and condemn them without worrying i'd be condemned. Safe to flaunt my naivete and romantic views of life without being laughed at. At least in my face.

And a computer notebook accessible anywhere would be useful. This place is mine and mine alone.