Adam gave me a toy: it is called the six-word story.
Adam said that I would have fun doing it and to try writing twelve or more. It took me a while to play with the toy. On the morning of November 3 or 4 (I think), I had asked him to give me six words to play with. He gave me, “One, two three, four, five, six”
I had said, “How the hell am I going to make a story with those words? Wait, are we talking about using just the six words or the ideas/concepts of the six words?”
He did not reply, which meant Figure it out, genius. So, someone did research for me on the six-word-story. I finally read some and said, “Ah, so that’s what it is.” I thought about it.
Monday, I was tired from staying calm while writing about anger, so that I don’t lose control of the narrative, so that it doesn’t become a rant, so that it doesn’t become a cliché which seems to be glorified nowadays in poetry, short stories, essays, novels, b(l)og entries---
---which seemed to be what the Zoo wanted me to do as I did monkey-observation, to train monkeys to say “Take advantage of” the way the Americans would say it, instead of “To avail of” the way Filipinos would say it in English---
so I started playing with the toy.
I had sent some to Adam through text messages and he said, “Now email them to me.”
I said, “Can I put them in my blog?”
He said, “Ikaw bahala. Blog mo yan eh.”
I thought See? That’s the whole point right there.
Six-word-story is a virus.
4. “To Adam on this”: You are right: this is fun!
A text message form Kristos Mon while exploring the virus:
hey miyakawa. (halata bang jap av fan heheh) & this reminded me of you: ‘I have gone away. I will be all write.’ – from ‘Runaway,’ Alice Munro heh heh
I replied:
Hahaha. Either that or you’re into African or
5. “A point”: This is a six-word-story.
He replied:
Hahaha. Or this: “Gone Chinese”--- This is not what I ordered.
I replied:
Hahahahahaha! And this--- I sent him number 2.
6. “The Original Orgasm”: Fuck…Yes…God…Aaaaaah…Shit kaaaaaaaaa!
He replied:
Whoa! Now that’s political heheh you have any 6-word love stories like ‘First Date’--- Where did I park the car?
I replied:
Hahahahahaha! You’re getting better and better! Um, I have--- sent him number 6.
He replied:
Bwahaha not you everything covered hehe mon yr 6-word story idea is more zen than zen heh heh
I replied:
Adam David told me to try it. Sent him number 4. And
7. “To Kristos Mon on this” aka “A Rastafarian to a Buddhist”: Puff, puff, pass: dis iz Zen!
And then with a laughing face I told him Enough.
Banzai Cat sends a message:
Mainstream- She texted her reply and cried. Noir- “But why?” She shot him again. Pwede rim book reviews- amnesiac man, Caribbean planet, ancient high. Or Orphan girl tells tattooed tall tales.
A text message from Kristos Mon:
‘Seeing these guys go at a 20-pound turkey is like poetry’—George Shea, Chairman of the International Federal of Competitive Eating.
I replied:
Now, THAT one is astute, you funny mon! Unlike that insufferably literal quote w/c ***** blissfully texted everyone re poetry *****. Hay, Maricon (Mexican gay cousin to Winka) said que horror!
He replied:
************? Was that supposed to be a trick or trick thing?
I replied:
Wish it were but twasn’t. Some quote/validation/excuse trivializing poetry; my photographic memory spat it out. Hahaha.
8. “The 21st Century’s Couple’s Quarrel”: Honey, I am low on battery.
I had said, “If I do this, teach them that, it is going against what writing stands for--- original articulation. What the whole idea of Philippine English stands for: Free Size instead of ‘One size fits all’.
The philosopher-using-the-system said, “So, how much do you want? Because that’s what they will ask.”
I said, “My reply has always been ‘How much are you offering?’ Listen, I may look like a corporate idiot but I am no fucking idiot in the corporate boardroom and in the power struggle in the negotiating table. And you’ve been texting your boss, haven’t you? To get an idea how much I want so that they have an idea how much they would offer. Hay.”
He shrugged, said, “They want you. They really want you. They know you’re that good. That was the first time they offered to an applicant to observe and observe the best.”
I scoffed, “Like I fucking care? How much can anyone pay for my fucking principles, my freedom?”
He said, “I need you to be there because I am dying there.”
I said, “Then why the hell didn’t you just say that to begin with? And how would you feel if they pay me more than they pay you?”
He shrugged again.
I sighed, “Shit. Fine, tell your boss the highest amount you fucking spy so that I’ll sit through the fucking negotiation tomorrow. Be a corporate whore. Maybe I’ll fucking wear shorts, huh? Christ, I need to have a hangover so that my ass won’t get bored in that room tomorrow.”
And no one left the table until I was sure we would all have a hangover today.
A text message to the Cat’s Queen of Mystical Maus:
Hakuna matata, gracias_!I’m free writing a hangover: I sound stoned. Hahahaha.
The Cat’s Queen of Mystical Maus replied:
You do, hehe!
I replied:
Hehehe. It’s showing on the writing too. Hehehehe.
A text message to double O:
Good morning. I’m confirming my
3 comments:
Aha!
What? :D
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