The longest thing I've written is about 10,000 words. I signed up for NaNoWriMo. I'm supposed to write 50,000 words this month. I got about 2,500 down. I'm supposed to be up to at least 28,000 words by today so I'm slacking. It's probably because I didn't plan anything during October. My character's name is Timmy. He is a junior in high school and he has an imaginary friend called Bahha. I started writing after I finished Tao Lin's Shoplifting from American Apparel. I liked it and I think it influenced me a bit. It starts off with Timmy at his computer, then he walks around his neighborhood talking with his imaginary friend. Then he meets his real friends in a diner and they talk about nothing for a while. I like the conversations they have. Then Timmy goes to school where he tries to be invisible like his imaginary companion.
I think I'll need to do some serious stream of consciousness writing if I want to get close to 50,000 words. The things I've been reading and looking at will probably influence me more. I like the scenes in SFAA where Sam is in jail but Timmy is too timid to do anything illegal. I started up on a roleplaying mmorpg again. Timmy might go to his computer and play on an mmorpg where he imagines that his imaginary friend is there right beside his character. A good chunk of the novel might go into some fantasy stuff. His character and his friend would go on a quest to retrieve something from the Tower of the Elephant. Timmy would be a wizard or something and Bahha would be the amazon warrior.
I read about some old Japanese torture methods from the Tokyo Scum Brigade blog. It reminded me that I was able to find the rest of 人でなし の恋: The Love of the Brute (NSFW) after reading Kurruta's post about it. There might be some Sadomasochism stuff in the novel but I don't know if Timmy is into that stuff yet. My idea of that fetish involves both people enjoying themselves and the girls in those pictures look like they're not enjoying the pain. It reminded me the Ichi the Killer manga and movie. Well, more people enjoyed it in the manga maybe... yeah.
I need to continue working on it. I want to accomplish this.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
>1500 Words About Tao Lin and Tao Lin related things for his latest book
This will be my 1500 words about Tao Lin so I can get a free book. It’s part of a grassroots promotional campaign for his new book. I think he does these kinds of things a lot. These kinds of things include the selling of shares for his future project that may have earned him some money. There are also the “Fuck America” stickers/possible tattoo. Some people became his interns and spread his name online. He sells some of his works on ebay. There was some debate a while back about whether or not Tao Lin was the person that runs Hipster Runoff. There are now shirts for sale that say “I Am Carles” on them. Tao Lin promotes himself on the internet a lot. It is working because he is getting popular. I think. I’m probably going to be the fourteenth or fifteenth or sixteenth person that writes this much about him so far. Some people think he is annoying. That’s probably just another sign of his tactics working. I think I’m making Tao Lin out to be a guy that spends his time in a dingy basement somewhere, rubbing his palms together, trying to get people to read his stuff like a super villain trying to trick people into drinking some poison. But Tao Lin’s writing is good. Not like poison at all.
The first thing I read from him was Hikikomori on Bear Parade. He wrote it with Ellen Kennedy. I liked reading that a lot. Hikikomori is about two shut-ins that do funny / paranoid / weird (?) things and tell each other about it. Hikikomori are good people to me. When I was taking a Japanese language class in college some Japanese exchange students went to my class to do some presentation. After the presentation they walked around to talk to everyone. I told one of these students that I am really close to becoming a Hikikomori and she just nodded with a little frown and went: “Hm.” Later I learned that Hikikomori are not considered good people in Japan. I felt bad and embarrassed in retrospect. Then I read Hikikomori again and felt a lot better. I like reading it a lot.
I read most of the things on Bear Parade, including his e-books, and then I learned about Muumuu House. If I understand it correctly, Tao Lin uses his own money to fund this publisher. Muumuu House has published books by Brandon Scott Gorrell (During my Nervous Breakdown I Want to Have a Biographer Present, The Brandon Book Crisis(w/ Tao Lin)), and Ellen Kennedy (Sometimes My Heart Pushes my Ribs. There are also a lot of other things to read on the Muumuu House website like stories, poetry, twitter and gchat excerpts, and a short story by James Purdy. I don’t know how I feel about the twitter and chat postings. The twitter selections read kind of like poems and the chat excerpts… I don’t know. They are new things and I have to make them seem like familiar things so I can be comfortable with them. This way of thinking might be destructive. A little. I have to accept the new things that the internet is allowing people to write. New literary things / forms. Most of them are entertaining to read. Some of them even make me feel good about myself in the way Hikikomori does. Go read the contents of the site. Muumuu House has an interesting method to publish people. Someone from Muumuu House will read a comment or message from someone and maybe click on their name to see their writing. Then they talk about it with someone else and then the commenter will have a chance of being published on Muumuu House. There are probably other online literary sites that do it this way. It's an interesting way of doing things but it is working for many writers. But anyway, Tao Lin’s books aren’t published by Muumuu House.
His newest book (the one I am doing this for), Shoplifting From American Apparel, is published by Melville House. Tao Lin has some other books that are published by Melville House. These are the poetry book called Cognitive-Behavioral Theory, a short story collection called Bed, and a novel called Eeeee Eee Eeee. That is the sound a dolphin makes. I think I remember reading that it involves dolphins (obviously), Elijah Wood, and Wong Kar-Wai. He also has another poetry book called You Are a Little Bit Happier Than I Am. That sounds depressing doesn’t it? The poems also probably make people feel better about themselves. The title also sounds like the poems could depress people even more then they already were. I plan on reading these books too when I get money.
As you see with all the links, Tao Lin has established some sort of internet presence. This presence includes the social networking sites like blogs, tumblr, facebook, and twitter. One of his recent twitter posts was about his concern that he was being lazy in promoting his new book. I think that's what led to this grassroots promotion thing. Some of his other twitter posts are about the promotion of the other Muumuu House authors. He is sort of part of this group of people that was named Generation Zzz / Generation Yawn / Generation Tweet / Generation :( by some guy that writes for The Guardian Book Blog. The guy describes them as writers that post the tweets, chats, and promote themselves on the internet a lot like the way Tao Lin does. Aside from the writers at Bear Parade and Muumuu House that fit into this list (Ellen Kennedy, Brandon Scott Gorrell, Noah Cicero), the people that post at Html Giant fit this list. I think. I just learned about the Zzz thing a few months ago. There is a lot of good material to go through if you keep following the links.
OK. So I have only read Tao Lin's writing that is available online. He posts some good essays on his blog. I like the essays about promotion and art. I've seen some of his videos taken at his readings. In one of them he filmed the audience. I think it was called "Sorry if I make you uncomfortable." He read some of his blog posts in another video. I remember how he said something about how outgoing authors are lazier and introverted authors are more productive. He used the example about how it took Junot Díaz a while to come out with a second book. Some other things might have happened between the years, but I met Junot Díaz at a couple of his readings and he is pretty outgoing (he told me I should major in something other than English so I can have something to write about but it was too late). He's a nice guy. The productivity thing might be true and it makes sense. But it might also not be true because I'm kind of a lazy writer. I don't know. I use the internet more as a distraction. I think Tao Lin uses it more as a tool.
One thing I like about the internet way of doing things is that anyone can connect directly to the writers. I remember reading somewhere how Tao Lin would go on facebook and have the chat feature come up and he was talking to some random person. So you can probably stalk Tao Lin or one of your favorite writers from Generation Zzz (I think I don't like the name anymore) and tell them what you think of them and interact (but don't literally stalk anyone. It's probably annoying on the internet too). I don't know of many popular (i.e. rich and successful) authors that have the same level of connectivity with their readers aside from the readings. I think some popular, rich, successful writers will also try going online. If more authors try to do something to go viral it might be a good thing for books. It could get a bit weird if people start doing crazy things on youtube to get people to read their book, but it is better than those subway ads. Sensible things are ok.
I think I'm starting to ramble so it's time to end this thing. I think I have hit the word limit. I like these little promotions Tao Lin does and they work. I am looking forward to reading his work that is not online. I was going to go to the release party reading thing to get Shoplifting From American Apparel but my brother wouldn't lend me his monthly metrocard. I need to get a job, buy Tao Lin's other books and maybe attend a reading soon. I also want to look up those Japanese books he blogged about recently. I haven't talked much about SFAA much, yet. One commenter somewhere suggested leaving copies of the book in American Apparel stores. I also think that this is a good idea. I also think Tao Lin should change his blog address into something that can be typed easily (how many he's are there?).
The first thing I read from him was Hikikomori on Bear Parade. He wrote it with Ellen Kennedy. I liked reading that a lot. Hikikomori is about two shut-ins that do funny / paranoid / weird (?) things and tell each other about it. Hikikomori are good people to me. When I was taking a Japanese language class in college some Japanese exchange students went to my class to do some presentation. After the presentation they walked around to talk to everyone. I told one of these students that I am really close to becoming a Hikikomori and she just nodded with a little frown and went: “Hm.” Later I learned that Hikikomori are not considered good people in Japan. I felt bad and embarrassed in retrospect. Then I read Hikikomori again and felt a lot better. I like reading it a lot.
I read most of the things on Bear Parade, including his e-books, and then I learned about Muumuu House. If I understand it correctly, Tao Lin uses his own money to fund this publisher. Muumuu House has published books by Brandon Scott Gorrell (During my Nervous Breakdown I Want to Have a Biographer Present, The Brandon Book Crisis(w/ Tao Lin)), and Ellen Kennedy (Sometimes My Heart Pushes my Ribs. There are also a lot of other things to read on the Muumuu House website like stories, poetry, twitter and gchat excerpts, and a short story by James Purdy. I don’t know how I feel about the twitter and chat postings. The twitter selections read kind of like poems and the chat excerpts… I don’t know. They are new things and I have to make them seem like familiar things so I can be comfortable with them. This way of thinking might be destructive. A little. I have to accept the new things that the internet is allowing people to write. New literary things / forms. Most of them are entertaining to read. Some of them even make me feel good about myself in the way Hikikomori does. Go read the contents of the site. Muumuu House has an interesting method to publish people. Someone from Muumuu House will read a comment or message from someone and maybe click on their name to see their writing. Then they talk about it with someone else and then the commenter will have a chance of being published on Muumuu House. There are probably other online literary sites that do it this way. It's an interesting way of doing things but it is working for many writers. But anyway, Tao Lin’s books aren’t published by Muumuu House.
His newest book (the one I am doing this for), Shoplifting From American Apparel, is published by Melville House. Tao Lin has some other books that are published by Melville House. These are the poetry book called Cognitive-Behavioral Theory, a short story collection called Bed, and a novel called Eeeee Eee Eeee. That is the sound a dolphin makes. I think I remember reading that it involves dolphins (obviously), Elijah Wood, and Wong Kar-Wai. He also has another poetry book called You Are a Little Bit Happier Than I Am. That sounds depressing doesn’t it? The poems also probably make people feel better about themselves. The title also sounds like the poems could depress people even more then they already were. I plan on reading these books too when I get money.
As you see with all the links, Tao Lin has established some sort of internet presence. This presence includes the social networking sites like blogs, tumblr, facebook, and twitter. One of his recent twitter posts was about his concern that he was being lazy in promoting his new book. I think that's what led to this grassroots promotion thing. Some of his other twitter posts are about the promotion of the other Muumuu House authors. He is sort of part of this group of people that was named Generation Zzz / Generation Yawn / Generation Tweet / Generation :( by some guy that writes for The Guardian Book Blog. The guy describes them as writers that post the tweets, chats, and promote themselves on the internet a lot like the way Tao Lin does. Aside from the writers at Bear Parade and Muumuu House that fit into this list (Ellen Kennedy, Brandon Scott Gorrell, Noah Cicero), the people that post at Html Giant fit this list. I think. I just learned about the Zzz thing a few months ago. There is a lot of good material to go through if you keep following the links.
OK. So I have only read Tao Lin's writing that is available online. He posts some good essays on his blog. I like the essays about promotion and art. I've seen some of his videos taken at his readings. In one of them he filmed the audience. I think it was called "Sorry if I make you uncomfortable." He read some of his blog posts in another video. I remember how he said something about how outgoing authors are lazier and introverted authors are more productive. He used the example about how it took Junot Díaz a while to come out with a second book. Some other things might have happened between the years, but I met Junot Díaz at a couple of his readings and he is pretty outgoing (he told me I should major in something other than English so I can have something to write about but it was too late). He's a nice guy. The productivity thing might be true and it makes sense. But it might also not be true because I'm kind of a lazy writer. I don't know. I use the internet more as a distraction. I think Tao Lin uses it more as a tool.
One thing I like about the internet way of doing things is that anyone can connect directly to the writers. I remember reading somewhere how Tao Lin would go on facebook and have the chat feature come up and he was talking to some random person. So you can probably stalk Tao Lin or one of your favorite writers from Generation Zzz (I think I don't like the name anymore) and tell them what you think of them and interact (but don't literally stalk anyone. It's probably annoying on the internet too). I don't know of many popular (i.e. rich and successful) authors that have the same level of connectivity with their readers aside from the readings. I think some popular, rich, successful writers will also try going online. If more authors try to do something to go viral it might be a good thing for books. It could get a bit weird if people start doing crazy things on youtube to get people to read their book, but it is better than those subway ads. Sensible things are ok.
I think I'm starting to ramble so it's time to end this thing. I think I have hit the word limit. I like these little promotions Tao Lin does and they work. I am looking forward to reading his work that is not online. I was going to go to the release party reading thing to get Shoplifting From American Apparel but my brother wouldn't lend me his monthly metrocard. I need to get a job, buy Tao Lin's other books and maybe attend a reading soon. I also want to look up those Japanese books he blogged about recently. I haven't talked much about SFAA much, yet. One commenter somewhere suggested leaving copies of the book in American Apparel stores. I also think that this is a good idea. I also think Tao Lin should change his blog address into something that can be typed easily (how many he's are there?).
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Virgin
the creaking sound of the bed makes her feel secure. it's the only thing that feels familiar about this situation. she is losing "it" at age 23. it was late for everyone else but for her it was perfect, considering. she used to be a troubled teen but unlike most troubled teens she wasn't a slut. the next few days would be weird. especially with the guy. he was just a someone that got her interested enough to indulge her curiosity and more importantly: her desperation. a musician so he was probably experienced. she was supposed to be an adult now so she gave a fuck about what people thought of her. her troubled teen past was long gone. she was now self-conscious and horny. tomorrow she will tell her friend the usual. "it hurt at the start and then it was just pressure. he wasn't very good. i think." Her friend would laugh and say "finally!" yeah.
The pressure is now off. She opens her eyes and he moves up and comes on her stomach. "Safer that way." She looks down at it and it resembles slime. He goes to clean up and leaves her there with the slime on top. She doesn't want to move at all. How does it feel? Nasty. But hey, it's life. He comes back with wet paper and cleans her off. He goes in for a kiss and she gives him a peck. She wasn't expecting much but she was expecting more. She tells him all this with a smile. He sighs and smiles back. He's probably just happy he got off. So was she.
The pressure is now off. She opens her eyes and he moves up and comes on her stomach. "Safer that way." She looks down at it and it resembles slime. He goes to clean up and leaves her there with the slime on top. She doesn't want to move at all. How does it feel? Nasty. But hey, it's life. He comes back with wet paper and cleans her off. He goes in for a kiss and she gives him a peck. She wasn't expecting much but she was expecting more. She tells him all this with a smile. He sighs and smiles back. He's probably just happy he got off. So was she.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Baladas Romanticas
Every Sunday a neighbor sets his music really loud. No one has complained in all the years I remember this happening because they usually play old spanish love ballads. Old couples in my building, like my parents, sit together in their living rooms with the T.V. on mute and listen as the ballads fill up the building. My parents also have some records and tapes with the same kind of music. My mother once told me that these were the songs she listened to when Dad was trying to get her to be his girlfriend. That made me think about the person blasting the songs from the speakers. I like to think it's an old guy that lives alone. He makes every Sunday a day of rest and remembrance. He uses the music to help him think about his late wife and how they met back on the island. He opens all of his windows and his door a bit and lets the music flow out of his apartment. Then he sits on his couch and tries to recall the first time he heard each song with his wife. He always ends in the afternoons with some upbeat salsa and merengue. He gets up and dances to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich. Maybe sometimes his neighbors privately join in on the dancing like my father does after some brugal mixed with soda. After the man eats his sandwich and turns off the music he lays in his bed and takes a nap with a sad, cheesy hand on his late wife's empty, cheesy pillow. Everyone else turns the television volume back up and eats dinner together.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Ambition
Possible jobs I can get to support myself while I write/stop being a slacker:
GravediggerGarbageman
Crime scene cleaner
Flyer Distributor/The "Here, you throw this away" guy
Dishwasher
Stockroom person
Mailroom person
Freelance writing
Literary assistant
Something in a library
Something in a museum
Doorman
Bellhop
T-shirt Desgn
Factory person
Plasma Donor
Sperm Donor
Ad clicker
Subway (trains) person
Construction worker
Gold Farmer
GravediggerGarbageman
Crime scene cleaner
Flyer Distributor/The "Here, you throw this away" guy
Dishwasher
Stockroom person
Mailroom person
Freelance writing
Literary assistant
Something in a library
Something in a museum
Doorman
Bellhop
T-shirt Desgn
Factory person
Plasma Donor
Sperm Donor
Ad clicker
Subway (trains) person
Construction worker
Gold Farmer
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Lose by Michael Deforge is good
I finished reading Lose by Michael Deforge. The main comic deals with Nesbit Lemon's adventure in hell. Characters from your childhood help Nesbit and also get him into trouble. It is a bit epic. The other smaller comics are good too like young green lantern. The part about the ring makes sense. I like the contorted expressions on most of the characters. Most of the faces looked like they were angry, confused, tired (dripping something), or in pain. I think they also looked like this if they were happy. Details on how to buy on his site from words 6 and 7.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
The men from those movies
I heard crying
on my floor of the building one day
A young woman said please
a guy with her wouldn't let her leave
He wanted her to go back up to their place
Asked then demanded then tried nicely
She cried and only stopped
to ask and try to escape
but he wouldn't let her
I listened behind the door
to the shuffling and the tired groans
I put my hand on the knob
thinking about the men from the movies
A neighbor's door opened
this person would surely allow her to go
and save me
His voice was deep and unintelligible when he spoke
I think he complained about the noise
keep this behind closed doors
then he walked away
She kept pleading for the guy to let her leave
I stood still just listening
my hand now at my side
She gave up after a while
and he carried her up the stairs
the sobbing sound grew faint with the distance
I listened for a while longer
Still
Hours later it was safe to go out
I saw a tired girl sitting smoking a cigarette
in front of the building
She looked up to see who was coming
but I looked away
on my floor of the building one day
A young woman said please
a guy with her wouldn't let her leave
He wanted her to go back up to their place
Asked then demanded then tried nicely
She cried and only stopped
to ask and try to escape
but he wouldn't let her
I listened behind the door
to the shuffling and the tired groans
I put my hand on the knob
thinking about the men from the movies
A neighbor's door opened
this person would surely allow her to go
and save me
His voice was deep and unintelligible when he spoke
I think he complained about the noise
keep this behind closed doors
then he walked away
She kept pleading for the guy to let her leave
I stood still just listening
my hand now at my side
She gave up after a while
and he carried her up the stairs
the sobbing sound grew faint with the distance
I listened for a while longer
Still
Hours later it was safe to go out
I saw a tired girl sitting smoking a cigarette
in front of the building
She looked up to see who was coming
but I looked away
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Excited for this movie
I liked Tetsuo the Ironman and Bullet Ballet and Tokyo Fist by Shinya Tsukamoto so I am excited for this movie. I wonder if he is making it specifically for a foreign audience and if it will change anything.
Learned of this from: Nippon Cinema
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Recommendations with Spoilers
The Firm: Destructive behavior leads to the destruction of the protagonist's family and life. It unites all of the city's hooligans in their terrible glory so it wasn't in vain.
Kidulthood: One of those street stories where the teen's life is filled with drugs, sex and violence. The teen does something bad in the beginning of the movie and then something else forces him to change and want to leave "the life," but the something he did at the beginning of the movie comes back to kill him and/or a significant other at the end. MESSAGE.
100 Bullets: It's a great read and then everybody dies.
Kidulthood: One of those street stories where the teen's life is filled with drugs, sex and violence. The teen does something bad in the beginning of the movie and then something else forces him to change and want to leave "the life," but the something he did at the beginning of the movie comes back to kill him and/or a significant other at the end. MESSAGE.
100 Bullets: It's a great read and then everybody dies.
Friday, August 7, 2009
999 Words About the Roof
John never saw the roof of his building. It bothered him when he realized that he has never seen the roof of his five floor apartment building. He always figured that the door was always closed and he never had much interest. The day after he realized that he has never seen it he decided to go up there. The view would be worth it. There was a nice graffiti piece on a building in the distance that he could take a picture of and post to his flickr account. He also thought that maybe The Super had a secret garden up there where he grew tomatoes and marijuana. Then John felt bad for thinking this because The Super was Jamaican. John cleared his head and went up the stairs.
The fourth floor was nothing special anymore. The old man that lived with six former guard dogs died. John never found out what happened to the dogs, but he was glad that they weren't there to scare him and chase him out of the building when the old man lost his grip on them. John stared at the old man's old door and walked up. The fifth floor was filled with smoke and the "No Smoking" sign was blacked out with a marker. One of his neighbors was confident that this was clever. John climbed the next flight of stairs and was met with a door that had a big "Keep Out" sign and seven latches. Each of the latches had combination locks on them. John went back home and looked up a way to defeat the locks on the Internet. He went back to the door at night and took care of the locks. He opened the door with camera in hand and took a dramatic step forward. John's face contorted into a very confused look. It seemed like he stepped into the sixth floor. He walked back down to the fifth, and what used to be the final, floor and it was the same as all the others except for the door. He walked over to the next flight of stairs. This one also had a door at the top and when he opened it he saw the seventh floor instead of the roof. He stepped through and walked over to the window in the hallway. John stuck his head out of the window in the hallway and looked up. There were no more floors, just the roof. When he looked down he found that he was indeed seven flights up. He ran upstairs, excited that he was finally going to get up to the roof but when he opened the door he got to the eighth floor.
John was getting angry now. He has lived in this building for nine years and it always had five floors. He went up to 8B and banged on the door. An old man with a bowler hat and suspenders opened the door and glared at John. Barking could be heard inside the apartment so John had to speak up so the old man could hear him.
"What building is this?"
"Uh, 1633."
"But there aren't this many floors in this building"
"What? What the heck do you mean by that?"
"This building only has five floors!"
"But you're standing on the eighth."
"That should be impossible..."
"And yet, here you are. Excuse me."
The old man looked back into his apartment and closed the door in John's face. John was even more confused now. He felt that he had no choice but to continue and try to get to the roof. As he opened door after door he kept reaching another floor. He met some people in some of the floors too. Some people were hanging out on the 24th floor. As John walked by he thought he saw his smoking neighbor from the fifth, but this guy was Vietnamese instead of Filipino. Another floor had a lot of windows and no doors. There were people standing in front of each window and they turned their attention to John when he got there. They all peered at him with their eyes opened as wide as they could open them. They just stood there gazing at him and John got out of that floor quickly. John was getting tired but he had to reach the roof. It became a mission. He crawled onto the 99th floor gasping for air. Each door on this floor was guarded by beautiful men. They had black suits, white shirts and black ties on. John looked at their reservoir dogs attire for a second but he could not get over how perfect their heads were. He got up and limped over to the next flight of steps, one of the men turned his perfect head to face John and asked:
"Are you sure you want to see it?"
John nodded and smiled. This must be the top floor. No more climbing. He would finally get his view. He got up to another door and opened it. He had to shield his eyes. It was day now and God stood before John. John opened his eyes wide to take in the awesomeness.
It balanced six feet high on seven tentacles, the tips of which were holding: a titanium drum stick, a trumpet, a harmonica, a giant balisong knife, a rapier, the rock that slew Goliath, and a joint. Its five arms had hands with four middle fingers. The arms were covered with full tattoo sleeves, each one dedicated to the mythologies of America, Africa, Europe, Asia, and Antarctica. Its two faces had three mouths with forked tongues. Its single all-seeing eye looked like it was laughing. John's gaze wandered over to its crotch, but as soon as he got there a pixelated square panel materialized over the area. John looked back up and the all-seeing eye was focused on him. Time seemed like it stopped. John blinked and his head exploded. He didn't get to see the rest of the roof.
The fourth floor was nothing special anymore. The old man that lived with six former guard dogs died. John never found out what happened to the dogs, but he was glad that they weren't there to scare him and chase him out of the building when the old man lost his grip on them. John stared at the old man's old door and walked up. The fifth floor was filled with smoke and the "No Smoking" sign was blacked out with a marker. One of his neighbors was confident that this was clever. John climbed the next flight of stairs and was met with a door that had a big "Keep Out" sign and seven latches. Each of the latches had combination locks on them. John went back home and looked up a way to defeat the locks on the Internet. He went back to the door at night and took care of the locks. He opened the door with camera in hand and took a dramatic step forward. John's face contorted into a very confused look. It seemed like he stepped into the sixth floor. He walked back down to the fifth, and what used to be the final, floor and it was the same as all the others except for the door. He walked over to the next flight of stairs. This one also had a door at the top and when he opened it he saw the seventh floor instead of the roof. He stepped through and walked over to the window in the hallway. John stuck his head out of the window in the hallway and looked up. There were no more floors, just the roof. When he looked down he found that he was indeed seven flights up. He ran upstairs, excited that he was finally going to get up to the roof but when he opened the door he got to the eighth floor.
John was getting angry now. He has lived in this building for nine years and it always had five floors. He went up to 8B and banged on the door. An old man with a bowler hat and suspenders opened the door and glared at John. Barking could be heard inside the apartment so John had to speak up so the old man could hear him.
"What building is this?"
"Uh, 1633."
"But there aren't this many floors in this building"
"What? What the heck do you mean by that?"
"This building only has five floors!"
"But you're standing on the eighth."
"That should be impossible..."
"And yet, here you are. Excuse me."
The old man looked back into his apartment and closed the door in John's face. John was even more confused now. He felt that he had no choice but to continue and try to get to the roof. As he opened door after door he kept reaching another floor. He met some people in some of the floors too. Some people were hanging out on the 24th floor. As John walked by he thought he saw his smoking neighbor from the fifth, but this guy was Vietnamese instead of Filipino. Another floor had a lot of windows and no doors. There were people standing in front of each window and they turned their attention to John when he got there. They all peered at him with their eyes opened as wide as they could open them. They just stood there gazing at him and John got out of that floor quickly. John was getting tired but he had to reach the roof. It became a mission. He crawled onto the 99th floor gasping for air. Each door on this floor was guarded by beautiful men. They had black suits, white shirts and black ties on. John looked at their reservoir dogs attire for a second but he could not get over how perfect their heads were. He got up and limped over to the next flight of steps, one of the men turned his perfect head to face John and asked:
"Are you sure you want to see it?"
John nodded and smiled. This must be the top floor. No more climbing. He would finally get his view. He got up to another door and opened it. He had to shield his eyes. It was day now and God stood before John. John opened his eyes wide to take in the awesomeness.
It balanced six feet high on seven tentacles, the tips of which were holding: a titanium drum stick, a trumpet, a harmonica, a giant balisong knife, a rapier, the rock that slew Goliath, and a joint. Its five arms had hands with four middle fingers. The arms were covered with full tattoo sleeves, each one dedicated to the mythologies of America, Africa, Europe, Asia, and Antarctica. Its two faces had three mouths with forked tongues. Its single all-seeing eye looked like it was laughing. John's gaze wandered over to its crotch, but as soon as he got there a pixelated square panel materialized over the area. John looked back up and the all-seeing eye was focused on him. Time seemed like it stopped. John blinked and his head exploded. He didn't get to see the rest of the roof.
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