I have not lost my resolve.

In my thinking place – on the way to the office, singing along to Placebo songs in the car – I realized I never blogged my resolutions for November. This is not the first time I realized this, but between car and computer, I do tend to forget ideas I have for writing. It can be frustrating, but not so frustrating that I pull into the parking lot with a fervent need to jot things down before walking to the building.

I forget. It happens. Life goes on.

I did not truly neglect my resolutions for November. I agreed to attempt NaNo. I promised myself to resubmit FALLEN should it be rejected. I’ve done both of these things.

Oh yes, dear Readers, November is not yet done, and it is a bit early for a summary of the monthly resolutions, but for this last week of the month, I intend to make a big push for the current WIP. I’m mentally charging up for this personal writeathon. I’ve been letting my mind wander around the main character, Morgan, and the two men who mold his life through the series of stories. I’ve been releasing them into scenarios that will never make it into the books, but will reveal them to me, so that I may write them more true to character than before. I’m ready to get these stories done, and so, I may not blog much between now and December.

Resolutions. Yes. You’re used to my side tangents by now, right?

NaNo is over 20k. I’ll be happy to get another 10-15k by month’s end. If this writeathon goes well, perhaps a bit more. If I count the words I’ve written for blogs and for CRANK, I’d be noticeably closer. If I made an adjustment for prepping FALLEN for a new submission, again, closer, but both FALLEN and CRANK needed to be done. I do not regret the time spent on them. Next year, I’d do the same. Sure, NaNo is about pumping out a story, but life, even other aspects of the writing life, can get in the way. If FALLEN gets accepted, it will be worth it. For all the comments on the story and on Twitter, CRANK is already worth it.

The resolution was to attempt NaNo, to kick start Morgan’s story and lead it into Nik’s story. That, dear Readers, has been accomplished. The word count is just the icing on the resolute cake.

As for FALLEN, I may not know until January. I already have the next publishing house picked out in case it is rejected, but damn, I feel good about this story. It’s worth money. It’s worth reading. I want to try out those day dreams about both good and crappy book reviews already. Keep your fingers crossed, my friends. This waiting is more difficult than writing smut scenes while the Hubby is the room.

Ciao,
Pia

His Addiction

“The sky was gold. It was rose. I was

taking sips of it through my nose.”

“Semi-Charmed Life” -Third Eye Blind

A carefree junkie. Always holding.

Wild and spontaneous. Spun into control.

Filling the space. An intense stimulant.

Crystal Meth needs. Dreams fulfilled.

From friends to between the sheets.

Losing room keys in the sand.

Sex in the fitting room, crazy.

Adrenaline relationship.

Late night phone calls and last minute

decisions. Trips to North Carolina.

I-95 at midnight. Dipping dollars in the bag,

coating their rims with white gold.

Takes the hit he was given.

And he bumped up.

A huge rush. Euphoria. Endless dreams.

Never-beginning sleep. Hallucinations.

Blending clouds of colors. Pink and blue

make purple. Obsessively horny.

Sudden slip into paranoia. Giggle attacks

and tickle matches. Avoiding invisible cops.

Pretending it’s just a game. Hiding

from his girlfriend. Falling asleep in closets.

Gliding on a high. Heavenly addiction.

Closer to a wonderful disease.

Outstanding physical condition.

Only 25 a day for half a gram.

Hydro or glass?

Laundry detergent and lighter fluid.

Precise explosive mixture resulting

in green poodles and weight loss.

Methamphetamine induced feelings

lift him up until he breaks.

Exhilarating decline onto the other side.

Snort. Smoke. Inject. Swallow.

Another hit.

He bumps up.

A flip, then a cascade away from

himself. He says he’s in love

and wants to be a better man. Stories

of rehab redeeming success clouds

his mind and pushes him into a sober

statue with winter white walls.

He forgets wild mood swings.

Tina, Krank, Tweak, and Ice

disappear from his once unpredictable

life. A good job and clean haircut

takes center stage, and new act begins.

His potential blooms,

and my heart sinks.

When I say Peter Jackson, what do you think of? Hobbits? Giant Apes? Maybe if you’re confused, one of the long-lost Jackson 5? Whatever you may be thinking, I wonder if it matches up to the critical acclaim of his newest film alongside Neill Blomkamp, ‘District 9‘. Now I know you’re wondering what this is about, that is, if you haven’t seen the trailers; movie posters, or heard of the hype from your friends. This somewhat of a masterpiece is a unique blend of E.T, Crank and Transformers, in the sense that the film’s focal point is primarily regarding an alien race, dubbed ‘the prawns‘ hunted by humans after years of being chained to earth and the realization that they’re the good guys. Let’s not forget the intense blood splatters and giant alien powered robots, shall we?

After countless alien renditions over the years, none have the attributes which District 9 so proudly shows, with it’s irresistible to watch docu-faux start, following on through to its comic genius turned crushing storyline and the underlying essence of E.T and Blade Runner crushed up into an original crazy cocktail of consumers desires. With enough scenes to keep you on the edge of your seat, cheering inside, or flinching in fear, its to be said that District 9 is one of the more anticipated and impressive films of 2009. In fact enough excitement has been caused that fans are flustered at the thought of a sequel, which is heavily hinted throughout the film. Everything a film lover could want is encapsulated within this gem of a sci-fi, from radiating blue lightning explosions to the projectile decompresser built into the kick ass biologically powered alien robot suit, or if you’ve failed to notice, a huge, hulking alien mothership over a city. Anything else? Yes actually, a lot of historical background. Whilst District 9 may or may not have been a real event, there were events that inspired it, such as the forced removal of over 60,000 inhabitants of Distict Six, Cape Town. Not only that, the film explores varied controversial issues including xenophobia and social segregation.

In all the films glory, stars Sharlto Copley and Jason Cope have been thrown into the limelight where anyone can identify the fact that District 9 has ignited a forest fire of potential for their future careers. Throughout the film, Copley showed a tremendous ability to improvise dialogue and Cope took on more than 4 separate roles, giving grand performances of the films protagonists Wikus van de Merwe  and Chistopher Johnson. Most notably out of everything is the dedication they showed to perfecting their characters, making their performances both realistic and full of panache. After watching District 9, I was admittedly one of the fans that were hoping for a sequel, with several theories as to how they go about it already fresh in my mind as the credits started to roll, Blompkamp expressed much enthusiasm as the thought of a sequel and he stated in an interview with Rotten Tomatoes: “I haven’t thought of a story yet but if people want to see another one, I’d love to do it.” District 9 is an alien epic, worthy of a place on any collectors or conspirators shelf, a must see.

Crank: High Voltage (2009)
★★ / ★★★★

At this point, I can enjoy just about any movie that Jason Statham stars in because even though most of them are mindless, they’re fun to watch. Statham is as charismatic as ever for his return as Chev Chelios, a hitman who gets caught up with gangsters who (literally) stole his heart. In order to survive, he must constantly charge his artificial heart which only lasts for about an hour. Half of the fun about this picture was the lead character trying to look for ways to charge his life force. The film is lewd, crude and downright crazy because even rubbing up against people could create enough electricity for him to survive. However, even I have to admit that I enjoyed this sequel less than the original for a few reasons. Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, the writers and directors, brought back certain characters from the original only to kill them off almost instantly. When a character did come back and survived, the character was not utilized in such a way that they could push the film forward. Therefore, there were many points in the film when it felt stuck even though the characters were kinetic in purpose and movement. I liked the campiness of the film but there were also times when it was too campy. In fact, there was a scene when it tried to summon Godzilla parodies. As adventurous as it was, it was dead on arrival for me because the violence that was being portrayed on screen was not funny, which was unlike the rest of the movie when everything else was cartoonish. In fact, that fighting sequence should have been quite epic, in my opinion, despite Johnny Vang (Art Hsu) being a simple-minded henchmen, because Statham’s character spent more than half of the film trying to chase him. Other actors that returned were Amy Smart as the girlfriend, Dwight Yoakam as Doc Miles, Efren Ramirez as Venus (who played Kaylo in the first), and Keone Young as Don Kim. I enjoyed this film’s enthusiasm to entertain but I ultimately have to give it a mediocre rating because it needed to have more focus instead of just aiming to be all over the place. Even though the first one was crazy, it tried to tell a story. On the other hand, “Crank: High Voltage” just felt like a series of random scenes pasted together which did not make sense as a whole.

Blogged 300 words. Deleted them.

Let’s try again.

NaNo: Not working out so well.

It’s no surprise really. I knew coming into the month that it would be a struggle to hit the required word count, so I am far from surprised that I’m averaging only about 1k per day.

The reason I’m okay with it is because this story is not one of those that I can simply channel. FALLEN was fun to write. I pounded out a quick and heavy word count because I could get into Mal’s head and channel his story. I do the same almost every time I sit down to work on CRANK. I’m in Crandall’s head 100% and Mike, nearly as much so.

I’m not in Morgan’s head yet, and that’s ok. It doesn’t mean that I won’t finish writing ABANDON, but rather, that I’ll need to work harder on it. I’ll need to write slower, and concentrate on the direction I need the story to go.

The point of NaNo is to pour out the words. Set a deadline and race towards it with no time to stop and realize that last paragraph needs to be edited. Honestly, I like to write that way anyway. When I sit down to a WIP, I reread the last section wrote, maybe clean it up, but mostly just to get the feel of the story back in my head, and then I write without looking back. Some stories tell me right up front that they’re not meant to be written like that. This is one of them. Jordan, my demon-hunter, was another. Jordan’s story wasn’t bad and it’s still an official WIP, but when I tried to write her in this style, it came out juvenile and amateurish. It’s one thing to hit a word count and have a manageable manuscript, but quite another to hit that count but then have to trash half of it because the scenes were THAT BAD.

That was Jordan. That bad. ABANDON isn’t that bad, but it is very, very disconnected. While the scenes that I have finished are great, I’m writing a little from the beginning, a little from the end, a little from the second book, a little from the fourth. This will be difficult to draw together and is not a productive writing style for me.

So to sum up this long rambling affair, I’m still plugging away at the NaNo WIP, but I’ve given myself permission to not hit the required word count. I may also pick up Jordan’s story to give my head a break from the frustration of pulling the story, little by little, from my stubborn Morgan. I think all NaNo writers out there should give themselves permission to fall short on word count if it will be for the better of the story. Last week, I lost sight of the purpose of NaNo – to write a story – if we focus too much on word counts, to the exclusion of making the story interesting, we have wasted the month and set ourselves up for more frustration in December as we try to edit a half-assed manuscript.

I’m glad I caught myself. I feel better about this WIP already.

Ciao,
Pia

Does it look like I got cunt written on my head? Who do you think you are fucking with?

– Chev Chelios

The high intensity action movie Crank was never my kind of movie. I am the big action anti-hero movie kind of guy. Directors Neveldine/Taylor has a reputation of having a buffed anti-hero kicking ass and taking names with jump cuts, thumping music and saturated lens. It feels like combination between Danny Boyle, Tony Scott and Renny Harlin. That may not end up as a good thing.

Chev Chelios (Jason Statham) is a contract killer for a Los Angles crime syndicate. He wakes up to find himself a groggy mess. There is a video playing of Ricky Verona (Jose Pablo Cantillo) drugging him with the “Beijing Cocktail” on Chev’s TV. Ricky’s motive for the injection is retribution for not killing Don Kim (Keone Young).

Little does Chev know is that the serum slows down his heart. He has one hour to live before the serum kills him. He calls Doc Miles (Dwight Yoakum). Doc informs Chev that he has to keep his heart pumping with adrenaline to stay alive by any means necessary from coke, tossing back Red Bulls, car chases, and nasal spray or fucking his brains out with his pothead girlfriend, Eve (Amy Smart).

He wants to seek revenge on Ricky. He enlists the help of his gay friend, Kaylo (Efren Ramirez) to get Chev closer to getting Ricky. Chev realizes that his boss Carlito (Carlos Sanz) is conspiring with Ricky for Chev not finishing the job.

As Chev stretches his limited time, Doc Miles tells him that he needs to find epinephrine. He tears Los Angeles apart to get the drug. He overdoses on the epinephrine and he has to burn it off.

From the get go, the movie is beyond reality with the ridiculous premise. I understand the movie is supposed to be frenetic and fast paced. Sometimes it could be too much. I believe that Neveldine/Taylor knows that the movie is ridiculous and treat it as much. There was the WTF sequel Crank: High Voltage that came out earlier this year, it makes the ending falls flat. Sorta speak.

Judgment: This is a fun movie that should not be taken seriously.

Rating: ***1/2

I’m gonna be on stage, baby,
I’m gonna squint in those bright lights,
I’ll do what I do, ‘cause I know
What you do, when it’s dark outside,
On a weekday night, I’m in front
Of an audience, beating my crank,
Letting the audience see
How I yank, I make your lap sing
With artful ministrations, you make
My tip shoot warm and wet libations,
Thanks for coming out, tell your
Friends, drive safe and goodnight.

I collected something from some where today…. I wonder what is it?

Oh! Look! its from Royal Mail. I wonder what is inside?…

£4.00 for delivery?….hmmm…must be something valueble inside…I wonder wh….

FULL VIEW!!!? FULL VIEW!! Let’s open it… HEHE

looking at where to start…..

tearing the tape….

having trouble with the tape….

processing….

processing……

it’s done!

Now I present you…the…

CRANK!! 

A week after I got my bike…I destroyed my crank. So I ordered this crank from ebay and I waited for a month and it din’t arrive. So I checked with the Royal Mail office and it was there. When I collected the parcel, I found out that it was the wrong address printed on it…. And guess what? I actually wrong the address wrongly in my ebay account! I have 2 more parcel and most likely it arrived but I don’t know about it…. hmmmm…genius?….genius…

MY TESTIMONY

By:  Jason W. Elder

My name is Jason Elder and on October 29^th 1980 I was born right here in Gaffney South Carolina.  I know many people who blame their shortcomings on their parents but I can’t do that.  I have some of the best parents in the world.  My dad was a Highway Patrolman for 14 years and then the Chief of Police in Blacksburg for several more.  My mom worked at Hamrick’s for a number of years and currently runs her own business.

My mom brought me to church a lot when I was younger.  I went forward after service once and talked to the pastor about getting “baptized.”  We prayed a prayer and I was baptized not long afterwards.  I’m sure he did everything he could to point me in the right direction but looking back, I just didn’t get it.

Yes, in the beginning I had an interest in church like never before, but it just didn’t last.  The whole experience reminds me of the parable Jesus told about the seed that fell on stony ground.  It was so quick to spring up but when the Sun was risen it withered away just as quickly because it had no root.[1]

I’ve always been an introvert and shy by nature but that was okay with me.  I didn’t really care what other people thought about me anyhow.  In fact, I didn’t even start combing my hair until seventh grade.  But as a teenager I became more and more concerned with what people thought of me.

Truth be known, that’s probably the biggest appeal drugs and alcohol had for me: they took away my inhibitions.

The first time I ever smoked marijuana was in the 10th grade.  And while I liked getting high, I didn’t like the smell of it.  If any of you ever been around someone smoking pot (and some of you look like you have) it has a very strong odor and knowing I had to come home to a house full of cops that always made me a little bit paranoid.  Just by walking through the door I was subjecting myself to a sobriety test.  I guess that’s why started messing around with pills: Xanax, Lortab, methadone etc. I even started selling a few here and there.  It started out being just for fun but pretty soon I was addicted not just to the pills but to the lifestyle of a drug dealer.

I kinda liked it when people would notice that my beeper was blowing up.  I was hanging out with some of the most popular kids in school.  I knew they really didn’t care a thing about me, but hey, everybody likes to feel needed.

Around my senior year in high school a young man brought me a sample of something his dad had cooked up at home called meth.

I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d just introduced me to something 10 times worse than all the pills I’d ever taken.  By the end of that summer I was using every day: smoking, snorting, and even shooting it up.  After I got in good with the cook I started selling it but unlike the pills I sold just for the heck of it, I was selling meth to support my own habit.  I can’t tell you how many hundreds of dollars worth of powder I went through but I gave Johnson & Johnson a run for their money.  That’s just what I used, God only knows how much I sold.

But all that “fun” took me to the same place most junkies find themselves…jail!  I was facing Federal and local charges and my life was in a mess.  Sometime during this process I picked up a Bible and read through it in less than 8 weeks.  I couldn’t believe it was actually interesting!  When I was released, I was placed on house arrest.  The Federal Government thought so much of me they gave me a cute little ankle bracelet to wear!  For six months I was allowed to go to church only once on Sunday morning.  I could go to all the Narcotics Anonymous meetings I wanted to, but Church only once a week.

The church my family was going to at the time was a cold, dead, liberal, Southern Baptist Church (as the picture represents).  The pastor was a Calvinist and it showed in his preaching.  I thought if this is all Church has to offer I’d be better off not going.

But then, one of my friends overdosed on painkillers.  Michael Williams laid in a coma for about week and died just after Christmas.  Still on the ankle monitor I went to the funeral home where they were receiving friends. Among the mourners I spotted a familiar older gentleman in the crowd, it was Pastor Lewis Batchelor from Open Door Baptist Church.

Several years prior, I had dated a girl that attended his church.  As two lost young teenagers, one day, we were sitting on the second pew from the front.  We were holding hands and passing little notes to each other.  We didn’t have a care in the world.  But all that would soon end!  Before I could get my thoughts together, in front of God and everybody, that old gray-haired man came out from behind the pulpit, jumped off the platform, straddled the pew in front of us, looked me dead in the eyes, and said, “Are you saved son?”  Before I could get the lump out of my throat, he looked down and saw we were holding hands.  He physically separated our hands that day and after scolding us both for being too close for his liking, he briefly lectured the young lady why she should never date anyone that’s lost.  I didn’t have enough hide left to close my eyes!  But even as a lost teenager I appreciated someone that had enough guts to tell me what was right!

Anyway, at the funeral, I talked to Pastor Batchelor briefly then spoke with Michael’s dad and step-mom.  I was doing a good job at keeping back the tears, but I couldn’t do it much longer.  I left off talking with his parents and headed for the door.  But somebody stopped me before I left!

It was Preacher Batchelor!  When I broke down weeping he hugged me and tried to comfort me.  I don’t remember what he said to me, I just remember he was there when I needed him.  When Sunday rolled around, I started thinking about that little old church on the other side of town.  I remembered the friendly people and the plain preaching.   I literally begged my mom and dad to take me to Open Door Baptist Church.  I don’t remember whether mom or dad went with me.  All I remember is how happy everyone was that I came.

For six months I went to Church every Sunday morning but one.  I was saved, born again, on a Wednesday night in March 2001.  Not long after that, my dad got saved!  We were both baptized on Easter Sunday!    I was so overwhelmed by the grace of God that brought me salvation that I took all my ambitions, my plans, and my life and with joy placed them at the Master’s disposal.

Much has transpired since that day.  The Lord has been so good that I cannot possibly list all the blessings He has sent my way.  I only wish to encourage you not to give up hope on a loved one or friend who may be struggling with the same things I did.  There’s a God in heaven Who specializes in lost causes.  If He can save me He can save anybody.

“Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” (2Cor 5:17)

Jason W. Elder

Assistant Pastor

Tabernacle Baptist Church

Gaffney SC

Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor

By Nellie Andreeva – HollywoodReporter.com

The feature writing-directing team of Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor are venturing into television with a one-hour project for NBC.

“Zeroes,” from Universal Media Studios and BermanBraun, is described as a high-intensity drama chronicling the last hour of a crisis situation.

BermanBraun approached Neveldine and Taylor with the idea to do “a crisis show that doesn’t bore you with all of the buildup leading to the crisis,” Taylor said.

“We want to drop right into it and sustain the absolute most berserk state of crisis, when all of the options have been exhausted,” he said. “We want to take that last 60 minutes and sustain it for the entire show.”

“Zeroes” refers to a fictional team of guys called in as a last resort who are “absolutely ruthless” in their use of force, Taylor said.

Neveldine and Taylor are writing the script. The two also are on board to direct the potential pilot.

In doing so, they plan to use their film experience.

“We came out of guerrilla filmmaking,” Taylor said. “We learned how to work superfast under pressure, generating a lot footage on a small budget.”

UTA-repped Neveldine and Taylor wrote and directed “Gamer,” “Crank” and “Crank: High Voltage.” They most recently wrote the screenplay for “Jonah Hex,” which is being directed by Jimmy Hayward.

Amazon Specials!

Teapot is a machine

Originally uploaded by juplife

He finished the new York marathon in under 3

En este episodio hablamos sobre el metal y hard rock de los años 90. Los siguientes grupos salen, como es habitual con temas menos conocidos:

Flotsam & Jetsam
Killers
Bruce Dickinson
Kiss
The Almighty
Life Of Agony
Pro-Pain
Testament
Geezer
Black Sabbath
Sepultura
Helloween
Anthrax

También se habla sobre los siguientes temas:

Jason Newsted, Dave Ellefson, Paul Dianno, Adrian Smith, Iron Maiden, Accident of Birth, Carnival Of Souls, Rolling Stones, Circus Diablo, Crank, Soul Searching Sun, John Tempesta, Louis Clement, James Murphy, Alex Skolnik, Daarth, Larzarus A.D., Death, Geezer Butler, Ronnie James Dio, Dio, Ozzy Osbourne, Derrick Green, AC/DC, Alice In Chains, Van Halen, Time Of The Oath, High Live, Michael Kiske, Andy Deris, John Bush, Dan Nelson, Bionic Strigl Radio

El podcast se puede descargar en formato que prefiere desde aquí:

O escucha online aquí:

Facebook has now become one of Filipino’s most favorite social networking sites. And because of this, one can readily name different types of users by merely observing their status messages. Last Sunday, I happened to watch QTv’s “Ang Pinaka”, with the topic “Ang Pinaka Pasaway na Facebook user”. But then again, after seeing the list, I asked myself what kind of facebook user a person has to be so he/she won’t be included in the list of ‘pasaway’ users. And so, I changed the subject line while still retaining the list.

The top ten most famous type of facebook users are:

10. THE SYMPATHY BAITER

Sympathy baiters are those who post status messages like “I’m sad because I failed” or “my boyfriend cheated on me! Am I not worth loving?”. This type of facebook user basically wants his friends to feel sorry and empathize with him. Admittedly, sympathy baiters can get very irritating especially when they expect you to identify with their depression. But then, we can not blame them. Facebook may be the only avenue for them to express their sadness.

9. THE OBSCURIST

This kind of facebook user tends to post messages that are vague and hard to understand. They take pleasure in posting something that would make other people think hard and be amazed with him.

8. THE PAPPARAZO

Paparazzos are people who are fond of posting photos/videos of their friends as their status message—and they’re doing it without the person’s consent. They do this every time they use facebook, and they take pleasure in doing this.

7. THE BAD GRAMMARIAN

Text lingo, gay lingo, and the combination of big and small letters—these are the characteristics of a bad grammarian. Although a lot of people are used to this kind of communicating or expressing their thoughts, it is sometimes very annoying because not a lot of people are used to reading words typed in ‘tHis MaNNeR’. It looks hard to read, and inappropriate for an online site like facebook where a lot of people can read it. But more than that, this type of status messaging has a bad effect on the person in such a way that it can affect a person’s communicating skills. When a person gets used to this kind of writing, there is a high possibility that he or she would use this in his or her work.

6. THE CHRONIC INVITER

Chronic inviters are those who keep on bombarding people with invites to join their games, causes, quizzes, applications, and so on. Inviting people once in a while is okay. But doing it every single day is a different thing. Besides, one has an option to skip inviting friends.

5. THE CRANK

“I WANNA KILL THE GIRL WHO STOLE MY BOYFRIEND!!”, “I HATE THE TRAFFIC IN MANILA!!”

These are some examples of a crank’s posts. Cranks are fond of complaining, ranting, and whining about everything.

4. THE SELF PROMOTER

Self promoters tend to promote their blogs, videos, events, and businesses in facebook. They do this by providing links that would connect friends to the actual site. Promoting personal sites is okay. But there should always be a limit to it. People have to keep in mind that facebook is an avenue to communicate with friends. One must not transform facebook into an online billboard.

3. THE FRIEND PADDER

The more friends, the merrier—this is the motto of a friend padder. He keeps on adding friends, and even people he does not know. Friend padders made networking a game. Some even brag about the number of friends they have in facebook! Facebook is a site where we can reconnect with our friends and loved ones, and constantly communicate with them. Because at the end of the day, real life friends are far better than virtual ones.

2. THE TMI-er (too much information)

“OMG! I have a huge pimple on my butt!”

TMI-ers consider their life as an open book and do not care if they’re already sharing too much information about their personal lives—their sex life, diseases, etc. This is very inappropriate since a lot of people are able to read their posts and may get irritated by their transparency. Discreetness and the right choice of message must always be on top of the mind of facebook users. If it’s very private, just keep it to yourself.

1.THE “LET ME TELL YOU EVERY DETAIL OF MY DAY” USER

“Just ate sinangag and tuyo for breakfast!”, “currently eating puto!”, “will use the bathroom in a while..”

These are examples of status messages of this kind of user. It’s also very irritating because who cares if you’re going to the bathroom or you’re eating puto? One must remember to always post something that is relevant or interesting to the readers.

** True enough, there are people in facebook who are like these. And personally, I can relate to every type of user since I believe I have been like them in one way or another. I have been a sympathy baiter, an obscurist, a crank, and so on. But I am most guilty of being a self promoter since I’ve been promoting my blog site, events, and videos for months now. And I must say that facebook is really an effective avenue for promotions.

There’s nothing wrong with expressing your thoughts on your facebook accounts. But we must all keep in mind that there are people who may not be able to think in the same way as we do. And there are people who may not get to jive with our interests.

After learning the different types of facebook users, I can only leave this pointer: YOU CAN STILL BE YOURSELF EVEN WHEN YOU’RE KEEPING EVERYTHING IN MODERATION. 

Was running 33 x 13 before, just wanted to get more pop so let’s see how it goes tomorrow.

chaos and noise.

that’s what i hear right now.  in my mind, there’s a strange hush.  i can’t quite call it silence — there’s a buzz there i can’t quite distinguish.  regardless, i know what it’s saying to me.

i just finished reading a book called crank, by ellen hopkins.  written in a series of poems in a variety of styles, it’s a novel about

meth                            addiction

love                                          falling

rape                              regret                                   resentment

family                           loss

drugs

self

and a myriad of other things.

kristina is an a student — friendly, well-adjusted, well-liked, pretty, somewhat shy, somewhat unsure of herself, virginal.

bree is a blaze — brave, strong-willed, stubborn, assertive (sometimes aggressive), flirtatious, carefree, confident….addicted.

they are the same body — though hardly the same person.

kristina finds bree the summer she meets the monster.  she’s introduced to it by

her father                                 a golden-eyed boy

the desire to break free

in a span of months, the monster devours her.  the monster is meth.

meth (crank, crystal, ice, glass, jib, the monster) is a nervous system stimulant drug.   in case you’re wondering what’s in it, it contains alkali metal, ammonia, metallic lithium (from batteries), metallic sodium, and other materials generally considered to be poison.

it induces euphoria, supreme sensory overload, etc.

reading this book was a bit intense.  especially because i read the dedication after i read the book.  it was dedicated to anyone whose life has been touched by the monster.  and i realized something rather profound (at least to me).

that includes me.

most people don’t know that my dad is a meth head.  it’s not something i knew for a long time, until he confessed that dealing and possession of methamphetamine were what was behind a lot of the jail time he’s done.  there was also the realization that, under ever-so-slightly-different circumstances, i very well could have been kristina/bree.  in my podunk montana town, i used alcohol to rebel.  you know, get drunk and see how fast  you can drive.  stuff like that.  if i’d visited my dad during that year and a half or so where i really tore loose, who knows what i would have done?

it gave me chills, just how much i related to this girl feeling like she had dual lives.  kristina on one end.  bree on the other.  while i myself can’t dredge up a name from the depths of my being to describe that other part of me, i know she’s there.  in the book, bree is the one i admire in a lot of ways.  aside from her addiction to drugs, she’s a lot more self-assured, a lot more carpe diem, a lot more immediate than kristina.  i think in my life i’ve managed to find a balance between those parts of me.  being introduced to hardcore drugs very well could have tipped the scales.

i saw myself in her many times, getting into bad situations that turned worse.  while i have not made nearly the number of very bad choices that this young lady did, looking back on my life, i can see just how precariously i perched on the fence at times.  oddly, most of the people i know would never see that side of me.

at the end of the day, i wonder who my bree is and just how much of me she makes up.  i don’t think it’s a coincidence that the name “bree” shares three letters with “free.”  in crank, her freedom is an illusion.  she doesn’t see the chains the monster has slung about her, tied her down, stolen from her and left her raw.  i’ve managed to find a freedom that is more realistic than that, managed to find an immediacy and a sensuality in my life that is not brought about by chemicals.  i think i’ve done a decent job at letting her run.  bree is untamed.  bree refuses to be tame.  in my life, in so many ways, i was shackled for so long.  i’m just glad it wasn’t the monster who unsnapped those shackles to replace with his own.

this kristina wasn’t so lucky.

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…

Je sors d’un coma ou je m’y dirige, gaiement.

Tout bascule sans jamais tomber.

Les pupilles dilatées, plus rien à télécharger, à zapper, à éteindre.

À bout de souffle, à bout de nerf, en bout de route, je cherche encore plus d’asphyxie, plus de haine, plus de bitume, de vertige en solde, d’adrénaline standard.

J’ai dans mes poings ce que ma tête n’a pas su dire avant le coup de pression et dans ma gorge ce que mon âme n’a pas su taire durant tous ces nuits de cauchemars.

La vitesse tue tout, même la mort, donc la violence ne peut-être que gratuite.

Alors ce qui sépare un coup de pied au cul bien placé d’un traumatisme crânien hasardeux, c’est mon appréciation du jour du mot « modération » sur ces bouteilles vendues en toute légalité par les pouvoirs publics chez mon receleur de mort le plus proche.

Il y a ceux qui brutalisent pour faire mal, pour gagner et ceux qui le font naturellement sans rien attendre en échange.

Gardez mon acte de naissance, rendez-vous utile et passez-moi les pansements, le mercurochrome et une bonne épitaphe en lettres capitales.

Tu ne peux en aucun cas jouer à la vie impunément et demander un remboursement de quoi que ce soit dans la même partie.

La sécurité, cela n’a jamais été une garantie durable, mais c’est une promesse éphémère. Perds le contrôle avant qu’on ne t’arrête sur le bas côté de la route.

Comme les phares d’une voiture devant les yeux d’un enfant à la sortie de l’école, je guette ma proie.

Au volant de ce qu’il me reste de temps à brûler, j’hésite entre le défibrillateur et la panne moteur, un verre de vitamine C et l’injection létale.

Mais lorsque le paysage ralentit lamentablement jusqu’au point mort, je scrute l’apathie de ma montre et la distance qui m’éloigne de ma prochaine victime, puis j’attends le prochain mur, le prochain platane, en face, en frontal, droit dans les yeux.

Il se peut qu’il me fasse un aveu ou que je fasse une overdose, avant le choc, le dernier.

…

J’ai pris la vie par les deux bouts sans jamais en voir la fin, ni en comprendre le début.

Et la même chanson psychédélique, assourdissante martèle son refrain à mes tempes, puis mes oreilles saignent de ce que mes tympans ne peuvent admettre.

Le monde fabrique ses révolutions en tournant sur lui-même. Je fais pareil, mais en mieux, je ne mens à personne et nul ne mourra en mon nom !

La mâchoire en kit et le cœur réduit en poudre, j’attends que reprennent les hostilités entre gens bien.

J’ai plus bandé par omission que je n’ai aimé par conviction, mais au moins je suis honnête ou en phase terminale.

Je vous laisse nettoyer en partant, je médite sur ce qui serait le mieux pour mon avenir entre un gâchis et une gâchette. Je change de vie comme je change de lit.

Prenez le temps durant mon oraison funèbre, après cette page de publicité, je n’existerais déjà plus.

Je ne cherche pas à savoir. Une dépendance à un excès de lois pour les cons engendrera plus de crime légitime, plus de sang vengeur, plus d’honneur retrouvé, plus de répression homologuée, plus de liberté usurpée, plus de plus, mais en vain.

Un jour végétarien, l’autre cannibale, jamais satisfaits.

Je n’ai aucune explication à confesser en réalité, aucune excuse à fournir en vérité, pas de leçons à donner à la majorité ni de conseil mensonger pour te border.

Dis toi que je suis plus vrai que Dieu.

Depuis que le meurtre est à portée de main, on a crée des règles afin de prendre plus de plaisir à les enfreindre. Les X commandements ne sont qu’une arnaque à l’assurance.

On voudrait que la mémoire facultative et la sagesse populaire servent autant de bâton que de carotte. Mais je ne sens plus les coups et j’ai perdu l’appétit.

Je fais l’impasse sur l’Histoire, mes toilettes ne se souviennent déjà pas ce que j’ai bu ce matin, merci de m’épargner les détails sur la gueule de bois de ce soir.

J’ai plus pris mon pied que mon temps. Et pour cause, j’ai préféré crever plutôt que d’être en retard.

Game Over

Cette semaine, au programme de  l’observatoire des sociétés mourantes :

Mardi 13 : Teaser en série (8) Moon

Jeudi 15 : Teaser en série (9) Crank – High Voltage -

Samedi 17 Dimanche 18: Me, myself & I : Pimp my contrôle de police

Prenez le temps, avant qu’il ne vous prenne

Foutraquement…

SS