On why I started writing

No one else could have said it better than Hemingway.

You guys wouldn't believe how many people have already asked me as to why I started writing. (It's zero. The answer is zero, guys.) If only some of you guys had asked me about why I started writing, I could have started this blog by saying "I'm writing this just to clear out the confusion that some people seem to have developed about my writing," WHICH WOULD HAVE BEEN WAY COOLER THAN THE WAY I STARTED THIS POST. I hate you guys.

To be honest, I had no idea why I started blogging. Some people seemed to get the idea that this blog was my first blog. It's not. I have already tried blogging for at least three times and the first two failed miserably. 

If I had to take a guess, I probably started blogging because I once read that women like a guy who is funny (and for some reason I thought that by writing, I could be funnier). Half a year after I started blogging, I read another article saying that a guy's smell matters more to women than his appearance. If I had known about this earlier, I probably would have started working (instead of writing) to buy a shitload of perfume. 

But now that I have been writing (somewhat) constantly for more than a year, I have developed a Stockholm Syndrome; writing is now an essential part of me. You see, one of my writing friends think of writing as breathing. I wouldn't exactly go as far as to say that. If I had to come up with an activity as to what writing is to me, I would probably describe it as peeing. Unless you go to a hospital every two hours and ask a doctor to extract pee from your bladder, peeing is necessary for everyone. I can hold my pee in for a few hours but then I would eventually have to relieve myself in a restroom. Peeing empties my bladder the same way that writing does to my brain. 

I love writing. Writing is fun; it lets you see the world in a whole new way and gives you a mean to describe it in 26 different letters. 

If you're a woman, you should try writing. It's the only way to talk without getting interrupted. And if you're a man, you should also try writing. It's like being a God minus the blasphemy. 

With that out of the way, I'd like to share some of the stories that I've written in my writing classes I took in college.

My (un-edited) first short story: here. (Warning: I wrote this in a writing class during my second semester in college and it sucked. Read ahead at your own risk.) I wrote this story because I had to (not because I wanted to) and I wrote most of it in dialogue. At that time, I didn't even know that description existed. I actually really like the idea behind this story and I swear one day I'll rewrite this story with proper punctuation.

My second story: here. I wrote this in a writing class during my last semester in college and I actually kinda like the way it went. I was told to write a story and for some odd reason, I wanted to write a love story. While the end product isn't exactly the happiest love story, I'm pretty satisfied with it. It's a story told backwards in alternating guy's and girl's perspective.

As for the title of this blog, it was inspired by a poem that I also wrote in my last writing class. The poem goes like:

An Egoist's Rant

I woke up to the sound of
high-pitched beeps. The kind of beeps you heard
when you bought something from a clothing store
and the cashier forgot to ring it
so you walked past the sensor with the tags still on the clothes. 

Seven beeps, or was it eight? were all it took to wake me up. How I managed to
count them, was one of my many useless talents God threw in when He made me.
I lay in bed for a few more seconds, before deciding that the annoying beeps
outweighed my urge to stay cocooned under my cloud-like blanket. 

I threw my perfectly white blanket with a large black coffee mark that wouldn't disappear after countless number of laundering (I gave up counting somewhere after 30 times) off me
and walked toward my alarm clock. I slapped it right on its head. 

I dragged myself into shower
undressed and twisting the shower knob precisely. 

30 degree to the left. I started as the shower head spat water and grazed my skin.
Cold. Freezing cold. 

I started counting at the top of my head. One, two, three...Before I managed to count to ten, steam from warm water started to fill the bathroom. 

Did I say warm?
Sorry, I meant hot. Mordor-hot.Another 10-degree-twist to the right, and that should do it. 

As I stood under the now-warm water like a writer waiting for inspiration to hit,
my mind began to wander about how many people could afford a shower
like this. Like the one I was having.
Children in Ethiopia had to walk for six straight hours to collect some water to drink,
surely they couldn't afford a shower like this. I silently thanked the Captain Obvious in my head. 

My mind began to wander everywhere else as I mindlessly wash my body.
I frantically told my mind to stop thinking about how this foamy fat was made.
Did I wash my hair already? I pulled my hair and it squeaked. I guessed I already did. 

I toweled myself to dry
and a silent curse slipped under my breath.
I cursed that it's another Monday to survive.
I cursed and cursed that it's another 5 days to endure
before I could get back to my weekend.

I agree that it's not the best poem. But when I decided to blog, the title "An Egoist's Rant" just kinda stuck to my head and so I chose to make it as my blog title.

I do hope this post answers all of your questions. 

Bottom line: if you guys are interested in writing and (for some odd reason) look up to me as your role model in writing (please don't), then by all means, start writing. Explain the world to the world itself by your stained glasses using your very own combination of 26 letters. Happy writing!

Motivation and shit

There are so many motivational speakers out there. Tony Robbins, Tung Desem Waringin, Nick Vujicic, you name it.

But I'm not them.

In fact, if there ever was an occupation that's a total opposite of motivational speakers, I will probably be one of the best at doing that. If we lived in a world where everyone can understand what others think, I would get hit in the face. A lot. My thoughts are rude and my words sarcastic. I just can't seem to emphatize with what other people go through. But for once, I want to motivate people. I want to move people only using words. So here it is, my motivational post.

Fortitude is never my strong point. Actually, I have always been a lazy person. In winter, I skipped college classes because it was very cold. In summer, I skipped classes because it was hot. And in spring and fall, I skipped classes because I wanted to play games instead. In those three of my college years, I accomplished nothing but eat and sleep.

Meanwhile a friend of my friend actually managed to establish his own business in his first year of college. In fact, two years after graduating, he had already founded 6 startup companies (yeah you read that right. Six, as in 1+1+1+1+1+1), all the while I was sleeping my ass off. It occurred to me that I needed to change. I deeply wished that I had used my time a little bit wiser. Maybe, just maybe, if I had used my time a little bit wiser, I would have a business to call my own now.

It's never too late to start what you want to do and to be what you might have been. If you like singing, go for it. Start recording your singing and upload them to Youtube. If you like writing, start writing a blog. If you like having sex, go to Japan and apply to be a porn star.

You know, my dad used to want me to be a doctor. Like, someone who uses a fucking knife to dissect a patient. After finding out that I have zero tolerance to blood and biology in general, he then wanted me to be a fucking professor. Like, a PHd. It was then when I realized that him wanting me to be something has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with him. Me being a doctor or being a PHd means so much to him that he can brag to everyone about his genius child.

Fuck that.

Life is too short to do what your parents tell you to do. You only live once and you won't relinquish the years spent to satisfy your parents. I'm not saying that you shouldn't love your parents and satisfy them. All I'm saying is that if your parents truly love you, they will stop being a prick and let you live your life (unless, of course, you want to be a Nicki Minaj, then I fully support whatever your parents want you to be).

It's been exactly a year since I graduated and I really wish I had started planning my own business earlier. Do what you want to do now; since a year from now, you will wish you had started today.

Creative writing in 5 steps

You heard it. 5 steps.

1. Fuck the grammar

No, no, I'm serious. Fuck the grammar. Don't let grammar hold you back in your quest to be the master of creative writing. I didn't mean to totally ignore the grammar such as "I you is ate burger, fat you?" That's not fucking the grammar, that's being retarded.

What I meant by 'fuck the grammar' is that you don't have to follow the grammar in English language to the very itsy-bitsy part. Like, starting a sentence using 'like', or even incorporating the word 'like' to express an example is actually wrong grammar-wise. And do you know that you should not start a sentence using conjunctions (such as 'and' and 'but')? But fuck that. It's called creative writing and you can do whatever you want with your writing. Unless you are writing a thesis, then unfuck the grammar and befriend it.

Another example of fucking the grammar is writing something like this. Or this. Or that. Or whatever. Just don't overdo it and write. Like. A. Person. Who. Has. An. Asthma. Attack.

2. Pee

If you ever have a pet dog, you will notice that sometimes they pee on an electrical pole in a desperate attempt to mark their territory. Like, "HEY THIS PLACE IS MINE THAT PLACE TOO WHY DOES EVERYTHING LOOK GRAY THIS EARTH BELONGS TO ME"

In order to do creative writing, you need to be like dogs. You -- as a writer -- need to pee on something (not literally, God, you're disgusting). Pee on your idea book, pee on your writing laptop, pee on the corner of the living room. Mark things as yours.

I, for one, have a book only for holding ideas for my creative writing (which I usually forget to carry around with me). I also have a writing laptop (a good-for-nothing-else laptop). I also have a sweet spot if I want to write. Usually it's in the corner of a living room, a bit farther away from the middle of the room so that even if the ceiling fan falls, I would still be able to survive.

In doing this, you are actually conditioning your mind to write. Everytime you see something interesting, you will remember to write it down in your idea book. Everytime you hold your writing laptop or sit in the corner of your living room, ideas will surge upon you pushing you to write.

3. Find a topic

This should probably be the first step, but whatever. First, in order to do creative writing, you need to find a topic. You need a topic that would make (some of) the readers say "What the fuck went through the mind of this guy?" not a topic such as "The sun is hot". Unless the reader is a 3 years old, chances are your readers already know about how hot a freaking sun is. Find a controversial topic, write it in such a way that people would like to meet you and punch you in the face. Make your readers think.

4. Surprise your readers

Readers hate expected stuff. They hate expected prologue (which is why you should start your writing in the middle of an action that would grab your readers' attention), they hate expected characters (which is why your characters should have their own voice). More than everything, they hate expected ending. Surprise your readers with anything that you can think of, such as writing only 4 steps while the title clearly says 5.