Decisions

Making decisions would be the hardest part of life. People don't want to take risks, people out there want to ensure all the possibility are within their reach. That is physically impossible. I say physically, because psychologically anything can happen. But what is the point in lying within your security? Life is not being safe and perfect all the time. It is more about scavenging the good aspects of life through the debris of sadness and depression. Life is about the process, not the outcome. It is about being enlightened from nothingness, not about having everything without anything to aspire to. It is alright to make the wrong decisions, they are just mistakes which people can fix one day. I quote to you Oscar Wilde "Experience is just another name for mistakes", it is only with mistakes people learn. 

SO START TAKING CHANCES.

Human

What defines a human? Is it our heart that is willing to share and sympathesise with others? Is it our brains where we are able to learn and synthesis to make good judgments? Is it our hands where we are able to reach for others when they are needing assistance? Is it our eyes which allow use to see and questions what is wrong with this world? Is it our chest which allows us to accept the worst thing life throws at us?
I just think that everyone is lacking these days. If that was an elimination dance checklist, then don't you find that you'll never find a partner which fits this criteria? People are getting more and more selfish, detracting away from it means to be human. But is it because of technology? Wouldn't technology just be an excuse? Well, I wouldn't be the judge of that. Just let someone from the future criticise the present, just like how we are commenting on the past. What is the point- commenting on the past when we can't deal with the present?

Letter

To whom this is concerned,

Not gonna name names but most people get the general idea about who I am talking about. I just want to say that I'm angry about anything. I just want to say good luck in a way.Also want to thanks, I also come to a conclusion about it. You went for it first, I am sorta glad that you left my hands clean.

I never really wanted my feelings get into our friendship. But then things didn't come out that way, did it? I guess I was a little naive, or maybe too naive. I still don't understand how things turn out this way, but I have no intentions to dig into it. Past is the past, for none of it really last. Frost said "memories grow dim overnight", I came to accept that saying, or was there never memories in the first place? I'll just say thanks and good luck. I am not going to resent. I will go away and keep moving.

Good luck with studies, do well in HSC. I'll not disturb you.

Sincerely,
Elton

Chapter 1

The neon green "EXIT"blinked as people stepped into the room. It was dark, somehow darkness worked well with the great number of people in here. The raucous background music set the mood for the club, there were intolerable screams and orgasms from the deserted corner. The music failed to conceal it, but then, no one really seemed to mind it.

I sat upon a tall stool, unattended. Ryan called me out, promising to have a drink, but I was dumped in the corner. Yes, alone. The bar-tender was busy having his own conversation with a fair lady sitting 3 seats to my left. Fucking dickheads, they must be well on their way to number for the night. I sat there, juggling the ice cubes in my glass.

"It sure is hot in here," a voice squeaked from behind.

I turned to look at her. She was tightly dressed and under the flickering lights, she looked demonic to a certain degree. I ran my eyes from her legs to her face. By the ruling of the society, she was classed as those "doable hotties", people would want to have a taste of her, but with zero intention in knowing them at a personal or business level. She wore a cherry red lipstick, thickly mascaraed.

I nodded.

She shuffled her ass and pulled a stool next to me. I got a clearer view of her. There was something about her which was unsettling. She was voluptuous in nature, but demonic. It must had been something about how her eyebrows curled in a parabolic arc and faded to a sharp line. It was beautiful, but there was something evil in it. Her mole situated right on top of the left side of her lip.

I slip away slightly. She wouldn't have notice it. I just needed some breathing space.

"So how do you do?" she smiled, her tongue twisted as she said it.

"Just nogging"

"Nogging? That is a cute way if saying drinking."

I glared at her. She had quite an irritating tone in her voice. It was as though she was hissing into my ears, luring me in.

"You feel uncomfortable?"

I stiffened and blushed. "Yeah."

"You're cute. I'm cute too."

"The Big Sleep?" I enquired.

"The Big Sleep? What do you mean?" she swung her head in disbelief.

"What you said came from the book called The Big Sleep. Raymond Chandler." Eventually, I came to the other possible meaning in my reply. I must have sounded extremely stupid, in the end, sexual affinity was not a talent that I was gifted.

Silence intruded between us for quite some time. She watched me taking sips of my whisky. I asked the bartender for some more ice cubes, I played with them.

"Why are you such a depressive?"

"Cause I can?" She should just go away.

"It's heaps manly. I like it."

Fuck sakes. There was an impeding force that existed between us, and every second of it was uneasy. A bleating sound up-roared from the background. I turned around to look.

She tapped on my shoulder. "Hey, promise me you will be here again tomorrow night." She dashed out of the room before I could reply.

From there, I had a collection of events without any specific order:
- the smashing of broken glass, clashing
- the thumping bass which was out of sync with the tremble
- shouting and screaming of the people
- the siren of ambulance and police

ARTIST

From now on, I am gonna be an artist. An author in a sense. I'll channel all my emotions in the form of fiction. Why? Cause fiction is enlightening for me. I find comfort within fiction. Not suggesting this is a form of escapism, but sometimes the boundaries within fiction ranges far beyond what people can achieve in reality.
So ill begin my first chapter.
The novel, novella or short story is far untitled, but eventually I'll find something for that.