39 Ways not to Write

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Summary

It is human interest and many things besides but what it does not tell is how to become a writer it is about the contentious thing the writer but not how to write. I made myself into a author and went and wandered lost and alone and when I found that most of the world thought me mad I was maddened by it all. To seek my fortune now I have agreed to be agreeable and to sit down and write.

Genre:
Humor / Drama
Author:
pencil
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
1
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
16+

Chapter 1

Pre- Prologue

So my story is about what? Politics, personal history, psychology, a bit of sociology and current affairs.

When there is nothing in this world but the thinkers who have gone outside the normal behaviours which we call human. There is not much to ask but to say why? That we have become the new beasts on the backs of our own children and have produced this world when chaos is the only rule. Did we not realise what Frankenstein monster meant?

That all our lives we have made efforts not to understand our superior powers and strengths. That a single man now can cost lives as never before. That one single individual can become the giant that holds the gates from hell? That one single madman can cost the entire regions civilisation.

That now we are less and we are more.

Where love died and beasts roam now, and our thinkers from former times I blame mostly but we have been so enchanted by evil that we too are to be blamed for this world we now dare live in. We the ancestors must leave to our descendents nothing but chaos?

We must all be control freaks to think we now have the remotest ideas of what and when the enemy will attack. That our lives are in our hands the moment we move and the moment we stay. So why does it happen? Why is this happening round the world. I cannot state make but the reason is clear we were beguiled to think we are the masters of the races and the mistress of our domains and to make matters worse we got machines to agree with us.

So we increased our egos and made off with the goods and then there was no persons underneath. We forgot to self exam, our motives plain as anything, where did introspections go? We have no time for it. Life is a whirling Dervish and we are whirling here and there.

Forgive me for saying that we have no personality? No I did not mean personality because we all have the greatest of charming personalities what I meant was something quite different. Mr Collins does have a personality does he not? I mean Mr Collins in Jane Austen?

Is he someone one likes to be?

Look this is the new state of who we mean to be, Mr Collins are here and there grovelling to the seniors and making off with their wives good selfishness. Well bred and born and able to bear children what is wrong with them? Nothing. But can you live with them?

Money: and social status is the only thought in their minds.

It does not matter who they are with as long as they have the same money in equal terms and they only love people who are socially their superiors. Lady Charlotte is a prime thing in their lives the only goalpost the only thing that they like to see from their binoculars.

Prologue

Autumn and the weather

The weatherman on television was making the weather good or bad again. What they predicted would come true in the States there would be so and so and in England it would be mild and this happened no matter what they did afterwards. In the Indians a crescendo of worst possible things might happen and in the regions where nobody but reporters go there would be nastiness and ill winds blowing. All the thing was the population needed to have a even temper because due to tempers fraying ill winds would blow. I might be wrong? But I am never so.

It was a clear day in late autumn, such a blazingly clear grey day as if the day had become so grey it had become crystallized into sharp images of streets and tenements of destitution and lack of reasoning. The leaves in the garden was just beginning to feel as if they had been dropped to death it was so oppressively raw. In a garden of reason everyone spoke reason, it was only I who did not have this reasoning power. It was only I who was unreasonable like an animal about to be slaughtered for the common good.

You see there is this good sense and there is the things if one is in a temper the weather goes a bit askew. No? Yes the earth now on the kilter with everyone behaving rationale so that the weather can become firm again. Look there it is says a woman dressed and looking very pretty the weather report is this in such a day. Five long days of reporting and she is still smiling?

Then she goes mad and does the whole world.

I went to the toilet for respite it was such an ordeal it made me blind to the knocking on the door as if a stranger spoke he spoke my name. Tired I said go away I am busy and then the knocking started as if he were impatient to use the loo. The knocking persisted there was something I did not understand why was he knocking so persistent? I did not think twice there is something I had the window I went onto the roof and stayed there. The door got knocked into he could not find me there he looked I did not speak or did I tremble he did not see me for some reason he must have thought I had not been in the loo.

“Where did she go?”

There were whisperings, “Get her another time.” said the voice of mother as if I were a cow to be butchered as if the lusts he had would make it okay to have it onto a cow.

Then he left and I started to scream at them I screamed and pitched and screamed as if I was being slaughtered.

“Even if I do what?”

“Eventually it will.”

“But what is the point?”

“The point is I am not having you here under these conditions working like a slave when I can be living.”

“Then this is living.”

“I am leaving.” I pack my things, dad stands in my way makes me stay there is something like a body guard in his image as if he is a thug.

I stare at him I stand not my ground I placed my bags near the bed and stand to watch television. I go and have a bath and I wait till they are all fast asleep. I do not want to rustle anything I take off my shoes and I place everything into a pillow case and there is no rustling because I think that won’t rustle the plastic.

I go tiptoe I will go tiptoe slow and slower down the stairs I go as if I were a shadow no sound I make no sound as if this were the only thing on my mind. There is no sound and my mind is working up to such a pitch that it can scream there is no light and I don’t rustle and I don’t make a sound and I go into the darkness there is no sound as I make myself breath not at all.

I am a herdsman’s daughter and father taught me that he could hear a rustle a mile off so I do not make a sound I go and go but that might have been slow time. Eventually I open the door it is locked and I make a noise then but it is only so slight I had oiled the hinges that day. I had oiled everything that day.

I open the door and there is a cough then a rustle but then I was outside in the dark with the lights of artificial light and as if I were breathing for the first time I grasp for air. Then I grasp some more as if I am crazy for air. There is something so crazy about air. I place the key into the letterbox and then reel as three drunks come into my vision.

“Hi babe want something?”

I don’t answer but walk on I don’t even look at them again they follow me for half an hour I walk on looking at the moon it seems I had never seen it before. They are there not there who cares? I was out I was out and they could not take it from me they had no power to I did not know them they could not even touch me. They began to run as if my walking was exhausting them. I a huntsman granddaughter know all the rules and they did not if an animal is to be hunted then that animal is to be caught I was not that animal.

“Look brood what is it with you?”

I give them a look I stare into their eyes they see nothing I know they are too drunk too. I don’t show fear there is nothing to fear from them.

“Look do you understand?”

“Comprehend?”

“Do you want to make it?”

“Do you care to have it out?”

“Do you comprehend?”

“Bloody silly brood doesn’t speak English?”

I walk on as if their silliness was making me walk so hard they were running by this time.

“We’ve walked a mile man she is weird. What is it?”

“Look she is gone?”

“Where did she go?”

“I am being sick it is making me sick. What is she?”

“God I am sick too.”

I go to a taxi cab office and hire a taxi. It is a rundown little cabbie hole without much respectful attentiveness with a lot of luggage lying around as if everyone is ready to leave.

“Look there she is? Come on man she is going to go?”

“I don’t think so she has a knife.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. I feel such sick it is disgusting as if my balls were coming into my mouth.”

“Why?”

“Sick is disgusting.”

“Thank you driver to a hotel please.”

“Do you want a shower lady I can save you money.”

“No thank you I have just had a bath.”

The driver looked tired and he did not argue he was thinking about the tin opener and the baked beans in the larder and I felt for him but he did not have to wait long his wife was on her way. He jumped and said,

“You don’t have to pay me.”

“I always pay my debts.”

He pretended respectful attendance as if he were doing a dance I look into his eyes and he stares into the ground respectfully. I make a note maybe he is getting carried away by the routine of his job? Might be driving all day was not what he was set about to do? Road sweeping might be betterment for him?

I went into the hotel and there was something so rotten about the receptionist as if he had a cat on a string. I looked behind me to see if there were other cats and there was no one and he phoned someone to tell them that the parcel had been delivered.

“Does Madam want a drink?”

“No.” I bang the door into his face.

He stands there for some time and then goes away. I try to ring someone there is no sound on the phone. This is strange a phone that does not work? In this mammoth of a hotel the phone does not work. Then it is only me against this?

The gloom of the room the gloom of the place there is something so strange that it is strange that I don’t fear this. The flicker of the doomed room as if the lights were off permanently. Barren and cold as if the arteries had gone out of it.

It is as if I am a stranger staring into someone else. The coldness the startled things inside the room as if they dared to be there.

There is going to be battle I stare at the double bed two singles into one there someone waiting for me to get into the bed. I must do so while my strength is on which is now when I am high on something called adrenaline I get into bed and it is there; hands pinching and trying to bite me trying to gore me into submission. I am so elated I get up and use all my witch powers and smash his brain cells. I crush my head on the post of the bed and I fall down in a faint.

There is no one outside and twenty minutes later I get up and go back to bed I need my sleep. There is something wrong with my head but that needs sleep. I go to sleep as if I had lullaby sang to me as if I was being looked after by angels in the King James bible.

The next morning the receptionist is surprised to see me calm and myself I check out and rain begins.

“Do have breakfast?”

“I don’t feel hungry.” I was uncomfortable by his umbrella it made me feel like a slut about to take a ride in a film of some obscene dance. He was making fun of me there is no doubt I did not like to see grown men take trouble to take me into their beds it made me think of their hides out in the cold and it made me think I did not want to see that.

Then I went to the council and got into a hostel.

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