Today I am decidedly happy.
I've been procrastinating, I know that, with writing. I'm rather lazy with writing sometimes, I mean like doing longhand. Most people recommend it, but really, I love a clean white sheet so much I hate it when the eraser goes sadistic on me and leave ugly grey marks. Back to topic, I feel strangely more content writing on my laptop. It's just... nicer, how I can type and erase and not leave a mark.
Ahem. So, earlier today, I tried to just write spontaneously. You see, I'm the perfectionist sort of person, and cannot start these things without a base idea that I deem good enough. While I do go spontaneous when brainstorming, I never do it anywhere else. Everything had to go through my mind filter, because I'm both artistic and logical.
I know I'm queer.
The thing I wrote is nothing short of embarrassing, because it's a story that has been going for a while but never seen the light of the day. It sorts of sits inside my mind like a chalked water-- the chalk slowly settles down after being shaken like margaritas. The thing I'm embarrassed about is that, while the words flow down without problem, the story is pretty much yaoi. It's barely explicit, or even show anything other than interest. So, while I'm not continuing it other than inside my mind (I know I'll continue pairing up the characters, that's how I am), it's a good head start for me. I'm starting to feel confident about writing on papers. So, starting from tomorrow, I'll try to fill up some papers as I snatch words during small breaks. I could always count it as practice for NaNoWriMo.
Today is going along swimmingly.
I had a good laugh. I was on the cram school. Despite its name, no, it's not cruel. Indonesia has high academic standards anyway, and it's getting higher each year. So it was... History, about how Indonesia has to fight to keep its status as a free country.
There's a city in Java named Surabaya that is often dubbed "Kota Pahlawan", or roughly City of Heroes. Apparently the city endured many battles, even if Bandung was the one burned down. There's a song for that, Hallo Hallo Bandung. Anyway, there's this quite well-known statue of a fighting crocodile and shark in the city. The teacher was talking about the Battle of Surabaya, when a girl asked if it had anything to do with the statue of crocodile and catfish.
I pretty much doubled over laughing.
The legend said that the shark and crocodile fought for the title of the strongest animal. To think about a catfish fighting a crocodile was too much for me. Made my day.
And there's something I wrote a few days ago. It's just a short thing I've been wanting to expand, but I have yet to do so. It's pretty dreary for me, but the real reason is that I want to write it in Indonesian. The setting is Indonesian, and it's set in WW3 with several Islamic understanding of things. In Islam, WW3 is believed to be the Great war that is one of the signs of coming of (Big) Apocalypse. It will be a war between Jews (I think) and Muslims, and is relatively short (Only months) compared to the previous two, but it'll be the deadliest.
One thing I like about Indonesian language is that "You", "He", and "She" is all packed into one word that is "Kamu". I want my main character to be vague, and I don't want someone's dialogue identify him as male or female. Sadly, I'm bad at Indonesian prose so I'll stick with English until I learn enough Indonesian or finish the story. If the latter happen, I'll take it and talk to a friend to see if she could help me choose my words.
Anyway, a snippet of it...
Kulihat ia.
'Ini bukan perangmu.'
Dia tersenyum padaku.
'Perang ini memang bukan perang agamaku, tetapi ini perang negeriku.'
Kami pergi menghadap kematian, dan dia tidak kembali lagi.
He smiles at me. His gaze is understanding, wise. I can see that he is worn by age, but it only serves to teach him.
'This war is not my religion's, but it is my country's.'
I feel a deepening respect for the man. During the ride to our post, we talk. We both then come face to face with death, and he does not come back.
I fall to my knees.
The story is coming to an end. The war will continue, but this is the end of my story.
The war has taken its toll on me.
Blinded, I can only grasp around. I cannot even walk. Everything is ending.
Far away, I can hear birds trying to rise with their broken wings.
The English parts are more developed than the Indonesian one. The Indonesian one is important, though, since it serves to be the foundation of everything. By the way, the bird part is, in fact, important. The name of the story is Sayap Sayap Patah, aka Broken Wings. Kahlil Gibran was on my mind when I started planning the story.I suspect the main character is only stumbling around suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Spontaneous characters tend to do that. Heck, even the ones I know do that to me; acting strange and demanding me to change their labels. They grow up so fast.
Umm, before I forget, the climax is Israel announcing they will drop atomic bombs on Indonesia. I read somewhere that WW3 will be countries bombing each other with atomic bombs, and thus leading the world into destruction. Then Dajjal will come out and... Okay, I'll stop there. I'll never stop if I don't do that.
It's 10 in the evening, and I have to wake up before 5.15 for school, so Guten nacht!
No comments:
Post a Comment