just minishorts.

Of course I want to be famous one day. I'm a writer goddamn it. Every writer wants to be acclaimed. You know, we don't want to write for free forever you know? Or be at the whim and fancy of editors. Or live a lifetime earning a living as an editor because writing just doesn't provide for the basic luxuries.

Money, money and money. To buy lots and lots of things.

I'd be telling a blatant lie if I said that fame doesn't matter, recognition doesn't matter, appreciation from the crowds doesn't matter. I'd be fibbing if I told you that I don't give a bloody fucking damn about press agents who take my work (for free) and then, conveniently forget that they still owe me money.

And by the way, when I say I'm a writer, I'm an editor, it doesn't mean I'm a magazine or newspaper editor… there are other types of publishing houses here, in Malaysia, what is this with you guys? You don't read enough izzit? You know right? Isn't all about glamour you know? It isn't all about the thrill of seeing your name in print, hearing people nod just when your name is muttered across pretentious cafes strewn with femes artsy-fartsy people.

There are some who are different. Like me, lah, different. And damn it, take me seriously, can? Take people like US seriously. We don't write for newspapers, we don't write for magazines, we don't write for brochures, but we are writers too.

'So what do you do for a living?'
'I'm an editor.'
'Oh, which magazine?'
'Oh it's not a magazine.'
'Oh, newspaper?'
'No. I edit books.'
'Oh, Malaysia can do that meh?'

Please please please God, make someone see me as I am now, and tell me that I don't have to moonlight as a writer and earn a living as an editor. Please make someone, you know, offer me a million-dollar deal to write just ONE of my crappy novels.

Please God, make me famous so that one day people will have to pay lots and lots of money just to read the gems that I will write.

OK. Wait… lemme do another BETTER prayer.

Please, please, please dear God, give me good strength and courage, to overcome my fears and burn down those invisible shackles that keep the recesses of my mind at bay. Please channel a tunnel through this (writer's) block, so that I will be able to produce great works of immense entertainment (or thought-pondering gems), so that I may be able to sell them at a good price and so that I will be able to live in luxurious glamour for the rest of my fantastically amazingly envy-worthy life.

ONE DAY, YOU'LL SEE. I'LL BECOME SO DAMN FEMES AND RICH I WON'T EVEN RECOGNIZE YOU ON THE STREET. KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA. THEN YOU CAN COME UP AND BEG ME TO FORGIVE YOU FOR YOUR IGNORANCE.

And yeah, being femes as a blog writer just doesn't COUNT!