Advice, Sir?

From two places are advice birthed. The first is concern, and the second is pride. These two aren’t mutually exclusive.

In heeding advice, discern for yourself the intent and motivation of the advisor. Be cognizant that the advisor does not bear the outcome of your actions.

Neither concern nor pride in an adviser is a negative quality. These are neutral. A proud enemy may offer wisdom. A concerned family may offer fool’s gold.

And if you heed my advice, my own words apply.


(Psst. Advice for you: Eat curry. It’s yummy.)

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Path of minds

The path of a mind ought to be at least as rich as the path of man. While a man can only walk in the present in a form of a human being, a mind can flow form free, revisit the days, places, laughters and loves of old; hop towards hopes, dreams, and scout and pathfind the future; ski in lands and realms otherwise impossible, seeking out alien flora, fauna, peoples and cultures.

Imagination is at least as interesting as reality – is what some may feel compelled to say. But perhaps it is just as valid to think of imagination as a special category of reality, an intangible extension categorically exclusive to an individual.

And yet, there are bridges from one imagination to another. Language, in its broadest definition, is this bridge. And we have tools today, which amplify the language aurally and visually – written word, film production, social media platforms such as facebook, emoticons etc.

Returning to the path of a mind, I might remind us that this very passage, is by its own virtue one passage of one mind.

#philosophy #metaphysics #language #randomuse


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“Come let me tell you a story. Eh? Simi sai, I forgot to close the door.
Ok now, let me tell you a story… oh wait. A doggo followed me through the door.
NOwwww, let me tell you a WAHT DE DONT BITE MY SOCKSSSS
Uraragh my toesssss
The bitch ate my toesssss get off my hipsssss
Arrrgh call the polic-ack-ack
my neck… my blurgh”

“Haha! Nice one…
Ok now.
Well hello? You still want to chat or not?


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Brooklyn 99 and Friends – Amy and Joey (An Observation)

In Friends, Joey is the absolute lovable idiot. And in Brooklyn 99, Amy is the overzealous class prefect, the quintessential goody two-shoes who’s a little bit Rossy.

While their roles and personality cement by season 2, you may perhaps find it interesting to note that in both shows’ season 1, their personality seemed less defined.

Joey wasn’t yet an idiot in full bloom. Chandler and Joey’s buddyhood hasn’t quite been established. His physical comedy (the Joey set of faces) hasn’t formed. Quite certainly, when Joey is fleshed out as a terrible actor, playboy, a buddy to Chandler and quite clearly a nitwit, the audience then becomes ready to recieve all Joey jokes.

Amy ‘s character develops more quickly. It didn’t take a whole season. But there were still signatures which required some set up.

In episode 1, Amy started off as a strong girl. Competent, wise-cracking but mature. The key to Amy’s development is her maturity – this qualitiy flies out of the window and she becomes a primary schooler when Cap Holt enters the scene.

The fun thing about Brooklyn 99 is that the characters almost universally primary schoolers in adult skin.

Its detachment from realism nears anime gag level. Speaking of anime, we may think of Amy Santiago as having 2 forms.

The first form is when she’s a goody goody coppy cop. You may imagine her as a normal anime girl here.

But when she butters up to Holt with childish plans, you can chibify her. She becomes a mascot version of her form 1.

Its akin to the Lightning Emperor in Get Backers, who’s the only character in the series who has a chibi form.

Alrighty, Im getting off the bus now, hence this article ends along with my commute. Peace.

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“It was a bright day. Not in the cheery sort of way, but in that the sun was severe and the lake was boiling sort of way.

I remember waking up in my thermo suit to find that my buddy, Buble the Foamarian, had melted into a puddle of cheerful opal – which poorly reflected his perrenial cynicism.

I will carry that torch for him man, he was a good blobman. Besides, it’s okay. His core pellet is in my pocket. Blobmen don’t die die.

They just suffer excruciating pain as everytime they enter a death phase. These lucky suckers just need a bathtub and water (and preferably soap) and they revert into their ugly hilarious form.

Check that Buble.” Sardon the Human winked into the lava-resistant camera phone. Just another day in the inter-planetory exploration where Buble dies again.





#short. #10minutes #nagairun #speedwriting

This is a little game I sometimes play, where I just sit and type and see what tale bubbles to the surface. Story-planning? What planning :p

It’s kinda like, you know, when the artists of instagram do ridiculously amazeballs speedpaintings? Well, it’s a very similar game. Have a good day, good folks of Earth (and beyond, of course, because I’m not a planetist).



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They say money can’t buy you love.
Whoever they are, they’re probably wrong.
But love, love can probably buy you money too.

Oh my goodness, I’m so wise.

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I scare myself again

Hello. Hello there. When do you remember reading a horror short from me?

“My Sister’s Story” from Insane Tales? Or was it the “White Party” I wrote back when I kept an active blog? I like both stories. Been years since I got a horror tale from the spine. (I’ve been writing Saurus tales. I can’t make the kids cry can I? Haha. I’m not that sadistic. Half Ghost has got pretty good moments, but I do make a conscious note to temper the creep.)

So… here’s something cool. I got a short horror tale tonight. It managed to scare me. I got most of the story except the ending a month ago. Tonight, it revealed the ending to me. No idea what sorcery made it crawl out fully tonight.

Except, when I jotted down the story outline, I got a chilly feeling when I realised we’re in a foot deep in the Hungry Ghost Festival.

Goodnight everyone. I wouldn’t stay out past midnight.

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