19th of March
Dear Diary.
Is it really necessary to start a diary entry like that? Dear Diary? It just sounds so... I don't, cliched?
Anyhow.
Hi.
I guess.
Yeah, maybe that would make more sense. Hi.
Hi Diary! Would make more sense than saying Dear Diary.
Diaries are definitely NOT dear.
Nuh-uh.
Maybe it would make more sense to make this diary, a living person.
A fake, living person.
Anyhow.
One might ask, Why are you writing this? Have you no better job?
Well, that sad truth is that, I have recently decided to become a writer, and that would take a hell a lot of writing, so I'd better get used to it.
So I've cheated my mother into thinking I'm writing this all down, but in truth, I'm actually typing this.
Kyahahaha.
Okay, that wasn't really very convincing, but what the hell.
21st March
Yo.
I spent the whole night yesterday trying to think of various ways in which I can start off each blog post. I'm not able to. So I'll just stick with Yo. Deal with it.
So today was pretty much boring. I mean, yes, I've got a brilliant idea for a book, and I'm actually working on it right now. It's just horrifying to see how long it takes to complete one chapter.
ONE CHAPTER.
And then there are books that thirteen million chapters or something.
Anyway, I'm just exaggerating.
I'm slightly losing my mind.
It's 11 in the night.
I'd better finish the rough draft of the next chapter before sleeping.
It's going to be a loooong night.
30th March
Hello there.
I almost forgot about this blog, until I remembered why I needed it.
So, yesterday, I had gone to the college magazine editor to get the first chapter of my book published.
His name is George Shaw. I've heard that somewhere.
So, I walked up to him, and gave a group of seven-eight papers... maybe... and he just took it and laughed.
"Richard Rogers."
"Castle. I'd like to be called Castle."
"Castle Rogers?"
"No, Richard Castle."
He had this smug smile in his face.
I knew that this guy could be the guy who could actually change my life. He could be the head start of my career. So I shut up.
He just took the papers, and flew across the pages. Wow, he's such a fast reader I think.
I was wrong.
He flung the papers back on the table, and removed his reading glasses. He wiped them clean on his Tshirt, and took a deep breath.
Hypnotized, I pulled in my breath too.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Yes?"
"Were you high when you were writing this?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Were you, fucking drunk?"
"No, I mean, why are you asking me this again?"
"Because my younger brother is in rehab for ecstasy, and he can write up better shit than this."
At that moment, I actually, wanted to tilt the table and run off for good.
But I didn't.
Instead, I sat there, for one whole hour, listening to him whining about the state of American Literature today.
And then he impolitely rejected me - include whatever swear word comes to your mind, because I think he used all the words I might have known - and I came rushing home.
Typing calms me down.
I don't know why.
5th April
Okay.
My life has grown a whole lot peaceful over the last few days. Maybe it is, because of what happened a few days ago.
Okay, what I've been calling as few days might just be one or two days.
God, time runs soooo slowly when you're angry.
Yeah, so anyway, I wrote a very angry letter to the editor on the 2nd, I think, and I think he got extremely pissed off.
Which is fantastic news.
Because he agreed to publish my chapter.
I was right about him kick starting my career.
Ha. I always am.
20th April
That's just disgusting.
It's been a few days since I've posted here, I guess. I think the main reason is because...
Well, I was hospitalized for a few days. Broken fingers and a dislocated elbow.
Why?
Well.
I think I mentioned in my last post that my chapter was being published?
Well it was published. Only, the chapter wasn't mine. And it was porn.
Like me? ME? PORN?
.
.
.
Turns out that the chapter was actually written by George's brother - yes the one who was in rehab - but couldn't risk his identity being blown, so Mr Smartass Dickhead had used my name to post his brother's story.
I'm not exactly sure why he is in rehab. Is it because of the drug addiction, or the porn addiction?
Nobody would ever know.
But, anyway, as soon as I got my copy of the magazine, I swiftly glide through the pages to find my story.
And there it was.
Or wasn't.
Whatever.
The following day, I had walked inside the student council, and sort of got into a fist fight with the editor.
I might have not been thinking straight.
So, I threw my punches badly, and everything was just horrible. I was apologizing to all my action hero gods for my existence.
Eventually, the senior overpowered me, and twisted my elbow and punched my shoulder. Unfortunately, the forces backfired, and my elbow twisted all the way, and so it was dislocated.
Like the ball, was out of it's socket. It was disturbing to look at the XRays.
A bit too disturbing, if I might add.
So my elbow is still in a cast, but my fingers have returned to their normal capacity. Currently, I'm typing up a mail to the Ad Board, explaining my nonsensical behavior against a student council member and my highly inappropriate stories in public media.
Stupid people.
.
But what's actually disgusting, is that email that's been running around our campus for a while.
A dog pooping on a baby.
That's too disgusting.
1st May
Happy May Day!
I think.
I'm seeing this really cute girl.
I first saw her in the canteen, and she was, like, right next to me.
.
.
.
.
Okay, I just received a message that the generator was down, meaning the computer would shut down any minute.
I gotta upload this before that.
I'll talk about her later.
Ciao.