Author’s Diary
by: Haresh Daswani
Here's a novel I tried to write a few years ago. It sucks big time... BIG TIME
Chapter 1
I remembered driving through the boulevard during a terrible. On my right was a guy who I apparently knew for quite some time. He was pretty tall and had a square face and looks quite Italian in features and hair. During the drive I remembered seeing nothing but the faint apparition of light on my left. Even with the wipers maxed to the top nothing can be seen. Worse, I was going around 60 miles through the whole ordeal. My friend was apparently panicking until all I can see is black everywhere. All the windows showed nothing to me. I can still see my friend and I am driving, going sixty on the road I cannot see. My buddy seemed terrified on the sight, something, something, something I did not see. He saw something I didn’t see and it was pretty terrifying. I don’t know how to describe it, I didn’t see it. But my friend’s reaction said pretty much everything. He was pretty much stomping his foot on the side in that nervous manner that either tells you he has to pee or take a crap. It is your choice. His breathing beats all pornographic women faking orgasms for men to dream of every night. Yup, pretty scary sight. That 30 seconds of silence was only broken when I started asking the most expected question, “what is it?”. All I got was silence, then he said “can’t describe it” in some sort of manner that tells you he is not ready to speak yet, quite like a shock victim. I didn’t know if we were entering into a portal or there was a scene, apparently it was so terrifying I didn’t see anything at all.
Could that even happen? Could you ever see something so terrifying your mind decided to block it off your conscious self and totally deny its existence? Could we choose what we want to see and what we don’t? the strange concept has kept me boggled for the next five minutes, driving with the thought that there is something terrible in front of me, something pretty bad, and I don’t see it, I refused to see it or I might have just totally ignored it to the point that I see nothing.
Thought spin on my head, what would possibly be terrible? War? Falling? Murder? Aliens? There must be something bad, really bad, but how bad should it be that I cannot see it? How terrible could things get that I could never get to see it, am I being protected? Should I ward off curiosity?
The alarm rang and I awoke.
I am Colin Smith, son of John Smith, my father’s name is just as common and insignificant as he is, one John Smith out of the many John Smiths in the world, that is how significant he is. A piece of nothing, shit perhaps, among all the John Smith, a piece of nothing compared to the number of people in the world, that is how significant or different he is, just like the population of humans compared to the population of all the things alive and fucking in Earth, very insignificant, just like Earth’s significance compared to the entire galaxy, the galaxy compared to the entire universe. We are all just that piece of shit, and when we realize infinity, even a piece of shit has more significance.
But would a piece of shit be more insignificant than us if we compare it to the infinite? We are just as insignificant to the ultimate, just as stupid and useless. So far we put so much priority and focus on ourselves we don’t even see that hey, we’re just one of the 6 billion humans inhabiting this planet we so dearly care about, Earth. We put so much focus and love as if it is the one and only, but as a whole, Earth is nothing but a piece of nothing in the entire infinity. Therefore, shit, me, and the planet Earth, are just as significant in comparison to the entire infinity.
That was my relation with my dad, I was just a piece of nothing in the vast infinity, that significant and that important. It was so bad I never even got to argue with him. But who cares, he is just like all those guys out there, he is a by-stander who came to his house and suddenly found me in one of his rooms, but it was so bad he didn’t even notice or care I was there. Strange enough there was food on the table everyday for me, that was childhood for you.
I forgot, I decided to start this little diary here in the video rental shop in the little mall called Jimmy’s. Strange name for a mall actually, considering the fact that it sounds more like a place to get piss drunk or have some heart hating meat being served to you. It gets boring here and I want to try to start a novel. But in so far as I tried all I can do is write my name, no idea, nothing. Dry as can be.
It occurred to me that I could try go get ideas from my life. Hey, it might work, I was supposed to write my dreams here, just like what you saw a while ago, but it gets boring here in the shop, during weekdays barely anyone comes by to borrow tapes. What can I really do? All I can do is rewind tapes. And with the advent of DVDs, it just keeps getting shittier and shittier for me, there’s nothing else to do but watch, the window, I guess. That’s life, some people have all the fun, I get to just watch them.
I have every movie from cartoons to adult, documentary and how-to of furniture to sex. Some would get the furniture how-to today and rent the sex how-to next week. It does seem interesting. We have some very interesting porn titles too, everything from Charlie’s Anus to Star Trek Deep Penetration 69. Watching people borrow porn is interesting. You have the casual sinners who try their best to pretend it is normal, you can see it, there is still that hint of guilt and shame, but they still do want to watch the teacher punish the student while wearing the Xena costume. There are also the ones interested but are just ashamed to even show it. They’d hide it underneath some crappy movies to pretend everything is normal and it is just “in passing” while it is definite he is already having a hard on in the shop imagining what goes on in the video.
The interesting coincidence would be the dry cleaner’s on my left and the sex shop on my right, the first thing I wouldn’t be surprised in meeting is Monica Lewinski. The sex shop has some pretty amusing stuff, not that I buy any, but who cares if I do. But they do have some 40 varieties of condom from the regular, thin, to the furry ones and others with strawberry flavoring, others also are ribbed for pleasure, others have horns. For all we know they’re doing the burial of the Viking puppet theatre at home and they need costumes.
Now don’t think I am keeping my diary filled with profanities and pornography. It is your imagination and advanced presumption playing now. I tell things the way I want to tell them. Whoever found this on my desk, it just proves that you are a fucking snoop and spying isn’t a good virtue. Don’t think I am some sort of pervert, I tell things the way I see them and the way it all happens to be, by coincidence my neighbor is a sex shop, all with the complete 40 varieties of condoms, the Xena warrior princess clothing set, the love balls, the dildos with colors to suit your variety, from pale to dark. And other amusing board games and stuff.
It is not that I frequent that place either. To my boss who is currently reading, trust me when I say that I am at work all the time, and I only write this when no one is in the shop, don’t worry, work is ok. It is basic for us to know about what is being sold in sex shops, thanks to the porn videos I have to rewind anyway, and the one time I chanced to visit the place.
The place was being ran by some fat guy named Larry, balding on top blonde haired guy who isn’t too tall or too friendly. Who can blame him? Half the people who go there just go for kicks and to make fun of the stuff. Teenagers go there to just stare at products and laugh, the others go and make hurried purchases, no small talk, nothing. Life can sure suck for anyone who works there, unless he enjoys the product.
It just occurred to me, is there anything wrong with sex? Think about it, as soon as I discuss this matter anyone who would be reading this would have that strange reaction, something that makes it look like it is such a taboo stuff. End of the day, everybody is doing it, and it is legal. So what is wrong? Why do people look differently in such a topic? Why are we shunning away from the whole idea of intercourse? Why do we have such a reaction hearing any such words relating to fornication? If it is as natural as our bodies, as natural as eating and sleeping, then why do we put so much importance to it? Why did it suddenly become so holy? Is it because of the competition that we have to go through to be rewarded with fornication? Is it the danger of pregnancy? Or is it the only bond that couples can keep among themselves? That special something that keeps them together.
Maybe the concept of keeping it dangerous and exciting had to exist. There must be a special something that gives us reason to love it. Our lives are so monotonous and boring that we want to do something different, something special, dangerous.
Just a thought I guess. It gets boring here in the shop, no offence, boss. But hey, how much can we really watch until we hate watching? How much can we really rewind until we hate rewinding? What is life all about when we dedicate our own life, feeding ourselves for 70 years, and putting studies into consideration, living the life, to just rewinding tapes? How could people live knowing that with or without them life would be the same? With or without them people will still live? How many people really change lives here? Do we really change lives?
Once this whole concept was brought to me, “whoever works, however noble, works for humanity”. Bullshit, but in a way, true. Each and every person’s work is a gear that makes the machine move. It could, in a way, give me comfort on what I do, what I really do, rewinding tapes. Rewinding pornography. But I want to be a hero too. I want to do something that does help and change things, I want to see myself on TV and going to lunches with the President. I want to ride that car with the roof down, waving at people. But that’s what we all want to do anyway. And if we have 6 billion heroes, who will watch the television to see the other heroes? How many cars would have to go through the parade? Who will be watching the parade? I guess by then I want to be the by-stander, and so will everybody else. We always do go where the crowd goes I guess.
I will have to rest for a while now. My mind is running blanks and I have tapes to rewind.
Chapter 2
A luxurious party was being held in the backyard of Miguel Rodriguez. The house, which boasts a wonderful view of the lake in Mexico was the reward of Miguel’s hard work. In the backyard, plants and trees were brightly lit up to set up an elegant occasion; women were on their gowns and men on their tuxedos. Food ranging from French, Italian, and the finest Mexican delicacies were served just for the occasion. Friends, executives on top positions of Miguel’s plantation, and movers and shakers enjoyed the anniversary of Miguel’s successful venture.
Miguel is known as a fair man, the Mexican king Solomon. He is known for taking justice on his own hands. As a leader, he knows how to motivate the group. Of all the plantations in the area, his had no problems at all. This is how clever and amazing Miguel was.
After being advised on some occurrences among the friends, Miguel calls Amaranta Soriano to the front. Amaranta was known as the belle of the area. Having an American father and a beautiful Latin mother, she has boasted the best of both worlds. Her beauty has reached far places but in her decision to refuse a lot of suitors negative rumors reached farther. After Amaranta came up front, Miguel calls Juan Santos to the stage.
Here’s what happened. Juan decided to get even from being rejected by actually telling people that he himself has slept with Amaranta, but aside from him, he was able to convince his friends to spread the same. Soon the whole town knows of the rumor and her name was permanently tarnished. The commotion was known by Miguel and he has decided to fix it once and for all.
“Is it true that you have slept with Amaranta?” Asked Miguel to Juan, who suddenly blushed and bowed his head down, he then whispered “no”. “Then tell me, Juan, why did you spread such rumors? Do you know what implications this would have to Amaranta’s reputation?”, Juan was silent. “Well then, how do you plan to fix this problem?” Asked Miguel in a straight and normal face, to which Juan answered “I don’t know, I’m sorry, I spread the rumors, please forgive me”. “That is not enough Juan, people don’t tell others that you lied, that is not rumor material, be creative Juan” replied Miguel. To which, Juan answered “I don’t know how to make them remember spreading it”. Miguel then took a gun off his back, a Smith and Wesson .45 caliber with competition spring and a better handle grip. Miguel cocked it in the air and pointed it to Juan, who was now on his knees, trembling before Miguel in fear. “Juan, know me, I am the devil, but like God, I want things right and fair, unlike God, I don’t have patience to see things go right. This is a Smith Wesson .45 with competition spring and a modified handle, the gun also had several modifications to reduce recoil. Do you know how accurate my shot is Juan? I go target practice every Saturday morning” to which Miguel shot a watermelon to shreds 15 meters away from him. Shards of the watermelon fell on the punch bowl below, splashing punch on the poor waiters near the area, who jumped away in panic and fright. Juan fell silent as he looked at the ground, now paler and older than ever in fear. “Juan, you always have to hold the gun with both hands because of the recoil power and the weight, movies are all bullshit. And you also have to keep your finger away from the trigger when not in use, you don’t want to accidentally pull it do you? Now then, you have a choice, either you come up with a creative and effective way to undo the damage you have caused Amaranta, or you get shot. Free will Juan, do you believe in it?” answered Miguel, pointing the gun on the back, scratching the head of Juan with the barrel. “How do you call this free will, sir? You’re asking me to do something or die. There is no free will!” replied Juan. To which Miguel smiled and said “Either you believe that in life whatever happens there is free will or there is not. It is an absolute answer with no black or white, not even gray. I was driven to put this gun on your head, Juan, it wasn’t my free will. But if it was my free will, then you have your free will to choose what you want to do. Others have chosen death Juan, there was actually a choice, and of all, DEATH! You then do have a choice Juan, and I am not constricting you to anything, it is up to you.”. Juan fell silent, then screamed “I AM SORRY!!! I AM SORRY!!! I DIDN’T DO IT WITH AMARANTA!!! NOR DID MY FRIENDS!!! IT WAS ALL A RUMOR” but the gun was still on the head. Juan started dancing like a chicken now, moving around the stage like a complete idiot, while the scene was hilariously stupid and amusing, no one was laughing, not even Miguel, but the whole concept was understood. “I get it I get it, you believe that tomorrow morning everyone will spread around the news that Juan danced like a chicken to convince people he didn’t sleep with Amaranta. Pretty clever Juan, but let us take this into consideration” to which Miguel put the gun down. The crowd breathed a nervous sigh and Juan suddenly sat on the floor. Amaranta still stood motionless beside Miguel, unable to do anything all throughout the time she was on stage. Even at this point, she didn’t know what to do, besides, what is she to do? How could she stop Miguel, who at this point is practically crazy.
Miguel again lifted the gun and shot Juan through the back to the heart, killing him in a slower, definite manner. “You see, when someone dies, the worst part of their life ends there. Their closer loved ones will cry for a week, and recuperate after 3 months, going out for dinners and going to fiestas, laughing. Let’s face it Juan, after one year, no one really would care about you, even if you didn’t exist, there won’t be anything different in our lives, I would just have another executive kissing my ass. But dear Amaranta, on the other hand, has to live with the misfortune of a bad reputation all her life. She has to wake up every morning realizing people think differently of her, is that fair? I don’t think so, and she’d be crying and regretting the rest of her life, minus the years she lived from the time she learnt of the rumor, 25, that would be 50 years Juan, 50 YEARS! If she cries once a week she lives a worse life than you, you, dying, are still in a better fate than she is Juan, you did her wrong.” To which Miguel shot Amaranta on the head. “That will help you, Amaranta, you won’t have to cry about it for 50 years anymore, it ends now”.
Throughout the silence, the guests are still on a daze, their heads spinning with what they have just witnessed. Amaranta’s brains splattered on the other side of the stage, a disgusting and bloody sight. They also had to witness Juan grasping for life, holding on his chest, with tears running through his cheeks in immense pain. This was too much for anyone to watch. To which one of the guests replied, “This is the best party yet, everything else is boring. If you have gone to other parties hosted by Miguel, you’d just end up asleep. This one went pretty good. He is indeed wise, three birds in 2 bullets, not so bad”
That was one of the movies I was just watching, it was quite interesting
