My NaNoWriMo Novel

[Beast]

Me and a friend have decided to do a NaNoWriMo this month (normally it happens in november, but since its summer we've got enough time to do it this month). 50,000 words is the target to reach by 31st of July. I'll be posting my daily chunks here.

1667

Hello hello hello, start again.

This was how I felt. When I woke up stark bollock naked, faceward towards the night morning sky at 4 am, on a cold pebbled street, with a scraped knee. Scraped knee with no recollection of how it got scraped.

I am not a heavy drinker, though it is true that I drink heavily on occasion. And to those of you who share my wild style life style, you will understand that it's not unusual to find myself after a night of indulgence in an unfamiliar place, often with no memory of how I got there. This is routine to me. But yet I was still startled this particular morning. I am used to finding myself in perhaps, a fine young ladies apartment, or if I am not so lucky, a street corner or a prison cell. I am aware that dirty thieves will take from the vulnerable and sleepy, so waking without certain objects I had the night before is normal to me, but have I never lost quite so much as I have this time. Very odd it is, to be completely stripped of the objects you love, even the ones that clad your body.
   I lay there for a while, slowly feeling the cold get to my topside. My back felt numb, it must have been in a battle of temperature with the stones all night. I stayed still in my sleeping position, mainly because I knew movement intensify the cold even more. So I lay, and closed my lids, and tried to remember how I got here. The blackness enveloped my senses, an utter abyss it was. It was time I needed help, so I called upon the assistance of my mindkick: Manuel. A small hatch swung open in the abyss, and out stepped his small ephemeral form. He stood awkwardly behind my eyes, leaning on one hip. He grinned wide, those perfect teeth of his, the only perfect thing about him. He asked "What mystery do we solve today, sir?"
   "A most perplexing one" I replied, my booming voice filling his head. "One we never tire of solving".
   "You mean the mystery of How The Fuck Did I Get Here?", he said with a sense of familiarity and exasperation.
   "Quite so," I said, "But this is a particularly severe case, my friend, just take a look."
   He motioned a look and said "Ah well, I see what you mean." He extended one gnarled finger scratched his bald young head with it. "Well, lets take the normal route," he said with some faux authority, "what was your last memory before you woke up here?"
    I thought. The image of getting into my bed at the end of a perfectly normal tuesday, came suddenly to my vision. Manuel nodded in the way of someone looking over my shoulder at a television set.
   "Interesting," he murmured, "Perhaps you were abducted, from your bed, to this street we see now."
   I thought about this. "No," I said finally, "what would be the motive? I own little of any wealth, no rich relatives to demand the ransom, what could they possibly get from kidnapping me?"
   "Perhaps their desires are of a sexual nature," said Manuel.
   "It is true that I am a handsome young man, the object of many lusts, but perverts never cover their tracks. I would be able to feel their mark."
   Manuel was at a loss, for the first time in all the years I knew him.
   "Well I guess I can't help you, dear friend", he said.
   And with that he opened up the hatch, and left the abyss. I opened my eyes.
   The light was different now. The streetlamps waned themselves into atrophy at the sensing of the morning sun, and so orange had left to be replaced by dull purple. I squinted.
   After a few minutes, I heard the rush of un-oiled wheels. Creaking at me from left, coupled with hurried footsteps, cheap shoes on a cheap sidewalk. A man leant over me, with an expression of interest and fear. He gave me his hand and I took it. He lifted me up and my cold frail body finally shifted. The cold hit me like a cannon ball in the gut, but I could not show my pain. Must maintain my dignity in eyes of my saviour.
   Though a strange saviour he was. I could tell he was a salesman, from the over decorated tie, blond unthreatening hair cut, broad smile with the edges taken off and the little name tag: "Marcus". He appeared pleased to see me, as they always do, but there was an expression of deep fatigue in his eyes. The un-oiled wheels came from a small cart he carried behind him, laden with pillows, all covered in brightly coloured tags.
    "Hi there, naked consumer!" he said.
   "Good morning Marcus!" I said. It is important when talking with these people that you speak their language. Go along with the script that they learnt on the 2 day sales course, because if you do any thing out of the ordinary they will panic, and their attempts to sell you something will be even more desperate.
   "Good morning! Sleepworks© have just introduced their new line of iPillowsâ,,¢, would you be interested in purchasing one for you or your life partner?"
   "Hmm, interesting. Tell me more about these pillows." The cold was really getting to me at this point, I had to find a way to get out of this conversation
   "I will indeed! Now, tell me, have you ever wanted to listen to music while you go to sleep?"
   "Why, yes I have". I hadn't.
   "But doesn't the headphone cable get all tangled up, and when you wake up in the morning your Mp3 player is out of battery?"
   "Yeah!"
   "Well then the new iPillowâ,,¢ is just for you!" He took one out of the cart and presented it to me, his perfect teeth glistening in the morning sun. "You simply put your Mp3 player in the slot here, choose your playlist and the time when you when you want it to stop, and then the in built speakers will gently lull you to sleep! Neat huh?
   "Yeah it sure is" Christ, I'm fucking freezing. I don't need this now. "How much is it?"
   "Well, as my first customer, I'll give you a special discount. Nineteen pounds ninety nine."
   "That's a very good offer, but I'm afraid I..."
   I looked around. I was in what appeared to be an outdoor shopping complex, chain stores everywhere. It dawned on me that soon these shops would open up and the place would be filled with idle wanderers looking for a good deal. Not good for me in my current state. Police would barge in. Questions would be asked. I don't need that. I couldn't waste time talking to this oaf, so I took my sure fire route of escape.
   "Is this the life you imagined?" I said, looking him straight in the eye. A corner of him flickered.
   "Erm, the product also comes with a 1 year guarantee-"
   "Answer the question" I said. I thought for a moment about what a strange image this must be.
   "Err, um, W-would you like to sample it right n-now?" He was crumbling.
   "No, I want you to answer my question"
   "Then yes! This is how I imagined my life would be! Is that such a bad thing? I am happy with my absurdity, and the pathetic nature of my existence. I wouldn't have it any other way. What about you, are you happy with what you're doing right now, standing naked right here, talking to me? Because I am. I just wish I could sleep."

sunday breaks free to the fun of the gun, aint it fun to shoot a nigger? sleep now and I'm tired I tried eating that balanced diet of wheat meat fruit veg but its too good for me it feels wrong, feed a baby poison all its life it will take nothing else. i don't REALLY feel that way about people of african ancestry but I can't help but avoid their gaze when they walk my way. its just not the usual. i'm too scientific and functional to believe in a god, i just can't get that feeling that I used to when I was young. reading a book isn't going to help, if anything it will detract away from it. goody goody jam frog, ribbit me up i am your own vomit of mediated imagery. perhaps theres more to me than there really is. maybe everybody is born with the chance to be a great genius, maybe its societies fault. yeah blame society, thats easy, no ever thanks society, like no-one ever blames god. 1667, that's the important number. tomorrow it will be different but today i just gotta get to that. its a race of vowels and consonants, and the latter is winning. Win win win. nobody wants to be average but most people are. this monologue is quite similar to one in Jpod by Douglas Coupland. Perhaps I should mix it up a bit, but it's so difficult to be me, if I even know what that is. self reference is easy. self reference reference is even easier. Lets get freaky with words you cumudgeon on a self lathered plate of peas, butter my gasket and sink the soap bottom.
   Fly be birding off a leaf
   towards ol' father sun
   creator of all life
   that takes itself way
   back to the doctors strong firm hand
I used to write beautiful poetry without even thinking about it. If you something great, its great. If you do something great without thinking about it's even better. I'd like genius to come out of my arsehole, working at it will dilute it. Genius is born, not bred. Bread is not genius, though many a genius has eaten bread. Just four more words.

3334

[NOX]

A thousand gratitudes my good sir. For thou hast entertained me in a way that I previously thought a midget in a clown suit can only do <3

I found the fact that drunkenness was being narrated so eloquently to be very funneh
Though the last part was confusing, because not only did it stray from the tale but it also almost made no sense and made me think that you were just blabbering random words.

Anyway, great job man.

[Beast]

A thousand gratitudes my good sir. For thou hast entertained me in a way that I previously thought a midget in a clown suit can only do <3

I found the fact that drunkenness was being narrated so eloquently to be very funneh
Though the last part was confusing, because not only did it stray from the tale but it also almost made no sense and made me think that  you were just blabbering random words.

Anyway, great job man.

I kinda was, the whole point of NaNoWriMo is quantity, so rather a lot of it ends up being stream of consciousness. I may go back to the naked man story, when I can think of somewhere it can go. Otherwise I'll just make up some random shit.

[NOX]

Well you got 3334 words left. If you can make the next one as lolworthy as this, then you're a shoo-in.

[Topcatyo]

Snake asked me to post this:

I'm doing this, too! JulNoWriMo!

http://julnowrimo.thewrigro.com

You should hook up with this; we can keep up with each other's progress and give moral support.

[Beast]

I have never owned a radio. Instead I just...listen.

I do this because radio sends you staircases, when a bird sends you a wave. It's kind like that. Charlie McBobbin went for a walk one day down Drury Lane. He was skipping merrily along when suddenly he saw his old friend Charlie McBobbin walking in the opposite direction. They were very pleased to see each other, so they decided to exchange memories over a cup of coffee. Once they were both harnessed tightly, they laughed heartily, remembering the good times of their childhood. Charlie McBobbin then invited Charlie McBobbin back to his house to see his photo albums. Charlie McBobbin gladly accepted his offer. Then things took a turn for the worse. Charlie was sitting next to Charlie on the couch, when Charlie put his hand on Charlie's knee, and gently kissed him on the cheek. Charlie was not expecting this sudden display of affection, so left rather quickly, leaving poor Charlie alone and rejected. They haven't spoken since.

I woke at the foot of a grand old oak tree, and by god, I felt like mother nature had been cradling me all night. It were fookin' gorgeous it were.
   It seemed like a fairly respectable hour of the morning, probably the morning rush hour. Young fit people on their eco bikes on their way to their pointless jobs. Life was normal. I felt warm. I looked down and saw that I was wearing Marcus' clothes. I'd even gone to the effort scratching his name out on the name tag and replacing it with mine. In hindsight a rather a stupid idea, but I do - like all others - get some childish pleasure from writing my name. Reminds you who you are.

cyndrical glasse pipe
filled with serous fluid
poison for the happy
antidote for the sad
suck from the murder
professor crumb and
apple sexual favour.
eyes bulge with liquid
gravity is the brain
sunken bug suckle.

I persuaded some Special Brew off a homeless fellow, though it wasn't easy. Those who have been down at rock bottom for so long can tell if you're being in-genuine, its important for their survival. Bullshit is deadly. But eventually he handed it over and I sipped and walked about the park in my dirty salesmen's clothes. I felt the fluid run through my tubes, and the warm air pass around my lungs. I pondered my situation in a positive light. Perhaps this wasn't so bad, I was completely free. No house to pay for, no employer to hunt me down. Just me, in an unfamiliar town. I sank to my knees and blessed my abductors for giving me this wonderful liberty, and cried great tears of happiness. Or perhaps it was fear, I don't know. I knew for sure the alcohol was taking effect. I felt I lump in my pocket when I fell, Marcus' wallet. Fifty pounds, cash. "Oh, how the gods must love me," I said. So I cleaned myself up in river as punts went sailing by, and that night I set off into the town.

Club the penguin through the red blue flash dee jay, bounce about, high cut, low cut, dyed hair, neon nikes, what are you on, what have you had, oi mate set me your lighter, turp that blighter, wet lips, nimble hips, sweat from every hole, low bass thump, young lovers hump, jarring abrupt ending, coitus interrupts us, false laugh for a kiss, animal groping to a hip hop beat, water through cloth, poison my blood baby, frustrations exasperations confusions masticating, sound goes red, a green bile is exhumed Hello Charlie McBobbin! How are you? I'm good I guess, but i need some time alone if thats okay. Yeah thats cool, mate. Thanks. Hey wait up I was talking to Jules earlier. Yeah? Yeah, I think shes got...ya know, a thing for ya. Really? Yeah she told me. Wow...well anyway I gotta go. Cool, see you later mate. Yeah. slide on the apothecary, dust table, spunk bucket full of gold, what are you made of now? where were you made of before?

What is it like to be human?

Okay I guess this might be getting a bit discordant, I understand. I've shown this to people, and they agreed with me. But its so hard to think of plotlines and character development when words are at the forefront of your mind. A peaceful lily on a battleship sunk. Mug full of stink and a skunk full of tea.

Art is made through restriction, the foundation of british poetry is in the fact that english has the least rhymes of all languages. what can you do with the little you have. I shall give myself restrictions.

Any egg of april in an undulating orgy of arrogance. If I am in anguish, if i allow any undertaking, an adder on a ewe if I opulently agree.

Stick to my face you sons for guns, mothers to peaches with cravings.
If you craves peaches, eat a peach.
If you have something to say, say it.
If you have nothing to say, don't say anything.