Been kind of inspired lately to write, but the lineup of ideas have been…unusual, to say the least. Anyway, these are a few of the stories I’ve considered writing. I feel that if they were told properly, there might actually be some potential for a solid book. Or, at the very least, shock material.
"Pill Dive, son, into the greatest ambulance ride of your life!" the gameshow host exclaimed.
The year is 2032, and America has fallen ever-so-deeper in love with reality television and gameshows. The media begins embracing some of the most depraved situations into their prime time lineup. This show in particular is called something like “This Child Is Dying!”, and features a sick sort of heavily corporate-sponsored game show that revolves around children with terminal illnesses.
A young boy (no older than five) with Leukaemia named Rex comes on the show, and his mother uses his illness to gain attention and funds with her sob story. Rather than do anything to ease Rex’s pain, she milks the publicity for all its worth.
The premise is largely built on the idea that society is incredibly sick, and is trying to self-medicate with a cure that is even worse than the disease itself.
I Loved a Lunch Lady:
A coming-of-age story about a young couple that are dirt poor, and are forced into some of the worst jobs possible. It is a love story that somehow permeates through poverty, starvation, disease, and whatever else young people suffer through. Perhaps a hard-hitting romantic comedy?
A desperate man attempts to commit suicide. Over and over again. Every day. It’s not that he hates himself, even. Rather, he is addicted to his brushes with death. He never does enough to fully finish the job, but his debt is constantly rising due to his medical bills from all of his treatments. Somehow, the idea is that the quality of his life will continue to get worse and worse due to his habits, and he eventually becomes very emotionally unstable. But he can’t die. He could never die…
Because he’s been in Hell the entire time.
This idea is still pretty rough and abstract, but I think it shows a lot of “HOLY-SHIT” potential.
A Hard Century’s Work:
It is the new Golden Age of science in 2236, and scientists working for the privately-funded “Janus Corporation” manage to make the big breakthrough on time travel. Only, they made the incredibly stupid idea to commercialize such a dangerous tool into a full-blown service. Any customer can pay the fee for travel, and visit the time of their liking on a vacation of sorts. Some people are able to take Causality Tests, which measure the probability of time being completely unaltered due to their being there, and can opt-in to move into different areas of time as a residence. Obviously, this all has a great margin for abuse.
Enter the agency known as Invisible, Inc: a multi-dimensional corporation with no logical beginning or end, in time or in space. It is a fantastic company of innovation, and their latest project is a by-contract initiative called the “WAVE” Program, in which a selected employee is sent into the past as a highly specialized private investigator to retrieve anyone that attempts to interrupt the timeline. These agents are required to use advanced mathematics, probability, quantum mechanics, history, physics, and dozens of other fields of study in order to solve problems and extract anyone that acts up from the timeline. Due to the multi-dimensional, multi-reality nature of the company and the employees behind this, any of the actions of an agent does not alter the company’s perception of the timeline, nor does it alter any part of the company itself.
This is the story of a single young man who acts as the very first agent in this exciting new experimental program.
So, I went on an adventure today. My friend Janet (but she prefers that I call her Gigi) asked if I wanted to hang out today. It was 81 degrees outside, and the sun was out. She offered to spot my gas money. Of course I’d go and see my friend/stillrecentlynewacquaintaince, and that’s where our story takes place.
So, I hopped my car, and drove to Princeton. From Marquette Heights. That’s like an hour drive.
Did it feel that long? Not in the slightest. With the breeze flying through my hair, and songs from my parents’ generation blaring through the radio. I had a thirst for adventure, even if my adventure was a little bit awkward.
And it was.
You see, we’ve never really met on person. We’ve texted, and IM’ed, and shot emails back and forth. And so I was kind of nervous. What if she was super ugly? What if she thought I was? Oh noes.
So, after about an hour of driving through beautiful countryside, I finally got around to picking her up, finding the correct place and all. Go me.
So I picked her up, feeling super awkward and shy. I put on my cool face, and introduced myself as “Sean, that guy you met on the Internet.”
We drove over to the canal, which is this lovely patch of land just slightly on the edge of Princeton, and we sat down and talked for several hours. And you know what, it was really great getting to know her.
She’s really great. There were bits of my usual awkwardness, especially in the department of trying to find things to say. But she’s really nice, and funny as fuck, and she just seems to have a lot of substance and backstory as a person. She’s interesting.
I kind of like her a bit if you hadn’t noticed.
Anyways, it gave the feeling of a day well spent. Will this go anywhere beyond a friendship? I can’t honestly say. Would it be nice? You bet. But it’s nice to know that I’ve officially made a new friend, in the flesh, today. That alone is reason enough to be happy.
Seriously. What the fuck. I’ve come to realize that my life simply is not nearly as bad as I perceive it to be. I am miserable because I choose to be this way, based on my own inability to solve self-created problems, both internal ones and external ones.
This has to stop. This is no way to live.
The world needs more optimism. So let’s give it a shot. The mourning period needs to end; I need to perk up and just not care about how other people see me. So I’m weird, and I have problems. You know what, everyone seems strange at least a good part of the time.
Misery tends to solve very little, unless it can drive you to anger. I’m just not a very angry person.