Why Would I Write

  • You Used to Call Me on My Cellphone

    “Wow, still getting texts from my boss even when I’m dead, can you believe it?” I said, going through the notifications on my phone. Once I was done with all the tags to tributes and photos on Facebook, there weren’t many to go through. People tend to stop reaching out when they know you’re gone.

    My new friend who seemed lost in thought a moment ago noticed I had a phone with me. “What the hell – how did you get that in?? I thought they confiscated that shit at customs?”

    “Beats me, they must have missed it. Besides, there’s not much charge left anyway, it’s going to die – like I did.”

    “That’s very funny, can I use your phone for a bit before it dies? I haven’t been connected to the internet in ages.”

    “Dude, you came in right after me!”

    “I know! It’s been half-an-hour.”

    “And..?”

    “That’s an eternity without being online!”

    I shrugged and handed him the phone, “sure. If you get caught, don’t say it was from me.”

    I didn’t bother logging out of my apps or deleting my messages – it didn’t matter anyway, we were in the afterlife, what would people do with information about my past life? I continued walking down the street, leaving my friend, who found a bench to sit on, behind while I explored this new world.

    The afterlife isn’t so different from life. If I took a photograph of the two worlds, you would have trouble discerning the differences. I didn’t feel like I was dead. It was just like living but in another country.

    A couple of weeks had passed since the day I arrived – I had settled into a new routine in this life. I had completely forgotten about the friend I made when I saw his face on the front page of the daily paper.

    Suicide Bomber Stopped From Setting Off Phone Bomb – Terrorist is now in custody, and police are currently investigating the phone used in the crime.

    I spit my coffee out.

    Writing Prompt from Reddit: “You die with your cell phone in your hands, and the afterlife customs agents miss it when letting you in. You find that it still works, and you can connect to the internet and contact people in the living world.”

  • The Deal

    Having just moved into your new home, you jokingly say “If there are any monsters in my room, come out and we can make a truce!” Then, a skeleton walks out of your closet.

    I dropped my backpack onto the floor in shock and inched towards the exit, wishing that I hadn’t closed the door.

    “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” said the skeleton as it closed the closet door behind it. (I assumed it was speaking despite its lack of lungs and larynx. The alternative explanation was me imagining voices in my head, which was probably just as bad).

    “Are you questioning my ability to speak?” it asked when I didn’t respond to its first question. (Holy fuck, was it a mind reader too?) “No, I’m not a mind reader, that’s just what all the other people I’ve encountered asked when they met me.”

    “Come on kid, I don’t have all day. What are the terms of the truce this time?”

    “I didn’t think of one yet! Give me some time!” I managed to blurt out. It was the truth, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I said those words.

    “You’ve got ten seconds, if not I’ll go all Army of Darkness on you!” (it sure knows its trivia!).

    “Okay, don’t bother me and my family, and I will feed you once a week!”

    “What, do you think I need food to survive? Look at me!” the skeleton retorted.

    “I didn’t think it true! What kind of truce has worked for you in the past?”

    “I the life of your firstborn child in exchange for peace and quiet is a pretty common one I’ve received,” it said.

    “What if I don’t want kids?”

    “What the fuck is wrong with you? Everybody wants to start a family!”

    “Not me. I don’t want any kids.”

    “Fine, you can make that promise then, since you won’t be having any kids. It’s a win-win for you.”

    “Are you going to meddle in my affairs? Will you try to get my partners pregnant?”

    “Hell no, I’ve got better things to do than to make holes in condoms.”

    “What the fuck do you do inside the closet anyway?”

    “That’s none of your concern.”

    “Fine.”

    “Fine.”

    “So we have a deal?”

    “Deal.”

    “And kids, that is the story of how you lost an older brother. So if you see a skeleton in your closet, be sure not to make promises you might later regret.”

    Writing Prompt from Reddit: “Having just moved into your new home, you jokingly say “If there are any monsters in my room, come out and we can make a truce!” Then, a skeleton walks out of your closet.”

  • 30th Post of the Year

    30, thirty. Three sets of tens. This will be the 30th post that I write in my blog this year. It’s something I’ve realized in the past – whenever I do a job related to what I do in my free time, I tend to spend less time on it. Now that I work as a writer/blogger for eGG, I hardly update this blog.

    Is there a correlation between getting paid for doing what you like vs the amount of time you spend doing it in your free time? Maybe. But I’ve also seen plenty of exceptions. I know a lot of people who still draw for fun despite needing to draw for work. There are musicians out there who churn out music like nobody’s business despite getting paid to do so. So I might be an anomaly. Or there is an equal amount of both kinds of people – just my own confirmation biases at work.

    Regardless, I’m happy to say I haven’t completely abandoned all creative pursuits in my non-working life. I haven’t stopped making music, drawings or writing. I do it a lot less than before due to how busy work has been, but I have also spent hours playing video games. It’s all about priorities. I know the solution to not ‘wasting time’, it’s a matter of whether I want it enough.

    There are plenty of people out there who constantly complain about things in life, even though they have the power to change things. It’s probably because their problems aren’t as big as they make them out to be. They’re not feeling the ‘something’ which pushes them over the edge.

    Think about it – desperate people will do anything to get what they want or to get out of a situation. ANYTHING. This includes illegal, unethical and immoral actions because they believe that the consequences of whatever happens will be better than their current situation. Most people aren’t that desperate when it comes to making a change in their lives. They accept the inconveniences and resort to complaining instead.

    We all get too complacent with where we are in our lives. Most of us don’t live terrible lives, and there’s not much more to ask for. Sure, life can be better, but how many of us are willing to put the substantial effort into it for a minimal increase? If we’re content with lives, why make a change?

    I don’t fault them. It’s their own life after all. But complaining doesn’t do anything unless it’s to the right people who can make a difference (usually I’m not that person who can make a difference).

    I’m sure this is a biased take based on the people I know or hang out with, but hey, it’s a blog after all. Everything here is anecdotal, if not fiction.

    30. This year I turned 35. 30 feels so far away now. I remember the days when I used to think – I’m not ‘old’ until I cross 25. That was over a decade ago. This month, I woke up with a back pain that lasted 4 days. I had to consume medication and use Yoko Yoko to get rid of it. That was never a problem for me in the past! Also, I learned that there’s a correct method of sleeping with a bolster. You learn new things every day.

    Would life be better if I had ‘taken care’ of myself when I was younger? Possibly. I think my body is paying me back for all the abuse it has taken for me. Can’t really complain about it, since I set myself up for it.

    People place a lot of importance on age. If you think about it, every year is just another collection 365(.25) days. There’s nothing that sets one year apart from the previous one besides the numbers we write at the beginning or end of a date. A new day marks the completion of the earth’s rotation – that’s it. A new year is no different. People believe the new year means so much more than it actually does. How much a new year or day means is determined by the value we give it.

    The world isn’t going to suddenly get better when it completes its journey around the sun tomorrow. The pandemic is still here, and people will still get infected and die. Work isn’t going to change. I’ll still be terrible at Dota and Dark Souls. It’s just another day.

    30. Way past the halfway point of life and another year closer to death. Too young to die? There is no too young or too old. If you think about it, you’re always going to die too young. That’s what people who miss you will say. You were taken too soon. You could have done so much more with life. All that jazz. But what if you didn’t want to do anything else? What if you felt like you had lived to your full potential and there was nothing more you wanted to look forward to? Isn’t that possible? People will say, you can’t say such thing, you’ve barely done anything with your life. Who are they to say what we should have or shouldn’t have done? It’s my life, I decide what I do with it. There’s no checklist of things to do before you die – unless you write it yourself. And that list can be as long or as short as you want it to be.

    Life has as much purpose as you give it. That’s why some people give themselves lofty goals and ambitions, and some people are easily content with what they have. We’re all different people. It’s expected. No two people will think the same or have the same values. Unless they’re twins (not the conjoined ones though, they usually don’t live long enough to set goals).

    Am I happy with what I have so far? Pretty. It could be better but that could be said of anything and everything. Perfection is rarely reached, and things can always improve. But for what it’s worth, I live a happy, content life. Sure it doesn’t have all the bells and whistles or the glitz and glamor, but that’s not what I’m looking for. My ligaments are all attached to my body and functioning properly. I don’t have difficulties doing what I want, I have a close set of friends and a loving family. I have a job that pays the bills. I’m not sure what else I’d ask for to be honest.

    It would be great to never have to work another day in my life, but if a genie granted it, he’d probably turn me into a paraplegic to cash out that sweet insurance money. Life wouldn’t be worth living at that point though. And I’m not sure if insurance companies can dispute the work of an evil genie. So I’ll just wait till my friend hits that sweet jackpot and gives me the million he promised (this paragraph is for posterity).

    30. We’re no longer children. We think about life as adults. Our future. What we want in the coming years. I’ve thought about a lot of things over the course of the year, and in the process I’ve ended up hurting people. Now do I try to fix things? Do I let things be? Why am I so indecisive? I haven’t experienced such conundrums in the past, it’s completely new to me.

    I ruined a relationship because I was unwilling to compromise. I didn’t want to be the one who caused someone else to give up a dream for me. But in leaving that person, it also ended their dream of being with me. Either way feels like a selfish move. And I don’t know what I should do.

    The way I see it, I’m never going to emerge from this a good man. Maybe I’m just a terrible person after all.

    30. Cats have 30 teeth and there are 30 tracks on The Beatles’ The White album. I don’t own a cat or listen to The Beatles. Over the years, many people have recommended them to me though I still don’t get why they are heralded as one of the best bands of all time. Millions of people around the world love them, I still don’t get it. For me, the best band of all time are Dance Gavin Dance. No one even comes close. Also, I’m sure that will change one day, but that’s my answer for now. I don’t own a cat and I think dogs are the superior animal, but we know there’s no need to justify that statement.

    Thank you for reading this drivel.