Clone Wars

Clone Wars

I’m finishing up my short, short novelette entitled simply the “Asian American Eves”. Characters based on the gals who did the photo shoot — Sandy, Cindy, Belle, Luann, and Clara — for my, now in limbo, asian-america.com site. AAE will be a prelude to my planned novel as part of my “Wisdom As Immortality” series. I’ll let ya’ll know when it is done…

“To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.”
– e.e. cummings, writer
I stare at the computer screen, just contemplating what I will write next. This will be my 5th entry and hard realizing that there are people who actually read my shit. This “all eyes on me” is an eerie feeling that creeps into my insecurities as I wonder if I can even attain the moderate level of interests as the previous entries. I enjoy what I write but the thought that others are actually enjoying it along with me makes me wonder if I’m doing something wrong. In my experience, I’ve always considered writing as a non-conformist act. It is a tool where one need say anything only once, and an unaccountable number of eyes and minds will engage your words forever until they (both words and readers) cease their existence. A sort of immortalization of your thoughts. And, I say non-conformist because the writer hopes that he’s bringing something to the table that is new, fresh, witty, insightful different from other writers… and maybe revolutionary enough that the readers felt that they didn’t waste their time and should of been reading something else instead.

Therefore, I offer the following:

Once upon a time, there existed many men who had survived their adolescent years as young adults — partying, heart breaks, studying, working on low wages — learning the hard lessons of becoming a responsible people. But they spent most of their “alone”-time fantasizing about having that ultimate life. Upon entering their mid-lives, they became stable through getting a college degree, finding a job, marrying and having children to continue this “ultimate life fantasy”. Then, one particular night, these group of men decided to throw a party for themselves — hired a bunch of strippers, stocked up on alcohol, and got some old school beats bumpin’ by an old friend who use to DJ — to keep the mood of their “ultimate life fantasy” going. At this party, they compare their notes of where they work, whom they are married to, how many children they have — while flirting with the strippers. After this party, they all went home to their cars, recently purchased homes, and aging family — ready to sleep off their alcohol and promising “the code” of not telling anyone about the events at this party. They all smiled, but not to themselves, wondering if they will ever achieve this “ultimate life fantasy”.

I know, why would I want to immortalize that? I think there’s a moral here but I doubt it because I just made that shit up in the last 15 minutes. I hope y’all didn’t waste your time time just now.

Come back again now, ya heard me?

 

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