Some automatic writing to kick off the morning.

I have no idea why I insist on writing in the morning, before I’ve had breakfast, when my creativity is nowhere to be found. Some writers say that you have to force yourself to write all the time but writing right now just feels kinda forced. I guess anything could be good when witnessed in a certain state.

Have you ever wondered about the outer layer of your personality? Like, do you take some things for granted that you, deep inside, are repulsed by? Have you grown accustomed to certain events or routines that you used to hate, but have developed a personal wall against? Think about it. The force of routine slowly strips us of opinions and fills us with inactivity over the things that we used to care about. Maybe we still do, but we’ve forgotten how to act on it.

There’s a guy speaking in front of me who I don’t really care about.

Do you ever look at someone and think they’re beautiful? Is that dependent on our sense of sight or is there something else? Do we take details into account? Can the features of someone’s face or body give us information about the personality of that person? When you fall in love at first sight, what is it you fall in love with? Is that feeling valid? I mean both ways, because the objectification of women and the idealization of “manic pixie dream girls” seem to be the most popular detractors of love at first sight. I wouldn’t know. I’ve only seen it happen once.

Writing a blog is kind of a disconnected communication with yourself, but I guess any kind of public writing is. Am I writing to communicate with someone else? Do I trust on the swift delivery of the message I am cryptically expressing?

Anyway, Good Morning.


I’m back (After a year of ignoring you)

Hey everybody.

I’m back.

It’s november 13, 2014. The previous post in this page was made in November 10, 2013. So it’s been about a year then. Legit, one year and two days. I mean, is that destiny or something? I swear I wasn’t even checking. I didn’t even know. I didn’t even KNOW.

So maybe i’ll start writing here again. I know I say that every year, but I kinda sorta mean it this time I swear. I’m gonna use this blog to write a bunch of automatic, random, having-to-do-with-stuff-that-has-been-going-on-with-me stuff here.

Expect all sorts of stuff, ladies and gentlemen. Recipes, Movie Reviews, book reviews, pool reviews, depressive poems, happy prose, incredible deals, sci-fi stories, deep analysis of complicated machinery, retellings of romantic misadventures, letters of hate to women I used to love, letters of love to women I used to hate. Physical descriptions of both female and male bodies, and all kinds of nonsense. Particularly nonsense.

Also, expect the overall tone of the blog to change from deep depression, to black comedy and sarcasm. Not that sarcasm wasn’t present already.

Anyway, thank you very much for reading.

Whoever you are.

Let’s write great stuff together.

Nikolas Murdock

Another Monday

Somebody kill me, It’s Monday again.

You would think Monday has happened enough times before, and that we’ve gotten used to the week-end, week-start pattern, but no. Every Monday is greeted with the usual plethora of yawning and shouts of “I HATE MONDAYS”. Just last night, I was getting ready to go to sleep after a very productive evening of doing nothing. It was about midnight, and I knew that I had barely five hours of sleep to take advantage of. So I turned off my computer and wrapped myself in my blankets and such, and proceeded to follow the routine I usually follow to fall asleep. It usually includes closing my eyes and frequently turning in bed. Anyways, my brain did not want to sleep.

“Why do you not want to sleep, brain?”, I kept asking throughout the night, but it was to no avail for my brain did not want to answer. Since I have a set of steps to follow in these kind of scenarios, I decided to open the window and get some good, old-fashioned oxygen. That was probably my first mistake. I took off my pants to give myself a little bit of freedom in the leg department. That was my second mistake.

When I finally got some sleep, I woke up to find that my room(thanks to the open window) was a heavy-duty freezer. An improvised arctic no-man’s-land where I had to fight with polar bears and vicious penguins just to get out of my bed. In my absence(conscious absence at least), the bears had elected some kind of authoritarian government which did not see my lack of pants in a positive light, so added to the physical battle with the blood-thirsty animals now residing in my room, I found myself thrown into a battle of wits with a totalitarian ruler called “Zarko”.

As the days went on, I learned to take care of myself in this new environment. The only human in this post-apocalyptic world, my loneliness would keep me company on long nights when I needed a friend. However, providence decided to smile upon me and I became good friends with a polar bear called “Tsuke”. He belonged to a rebellious group self entitled “The Nolar Bears”. Becoming one of them, I learned their ways. I learned the value of a nice cold fish. I learned their language, and their traditions. Eventually divine intelligence led me to love, and I proposed to my two-year bear-girlfriend, a beautiful bear called “Majora”.

But the holy powers did not see my marriage under a good light. Two months after we wed, our home was penguin-bombed while I was away. She did not survive. I went berserk. Stealing the mythical spear, I stormed the Zarkian Castle in a fit of rage, taking life after life with me. Endless squadrons of bears, penguins and demonic combinations of both commonly referred to as “benguins” kept coming out of only-god-knows-where. Finally, after three days and three nights of fighting, I reached the throne room. I looked Zarko in the eye and knew that we were destined to fight one another using only our fists. Throwing away my spear and we fought valiantly, and fairly.

After what seemed like an eternity(but was actually no more than 20 minutes) I emerged victorious from the fated battle. My Nolar Friends greeted me with admiration and a sense of companionship few people get to experience in a lifetime. I spoke about the hardships of the past, and of the future. I told them great things were afoot. I told them, even if I had defeated Zarko, the darkness in my soul would never allow me to lead them into an age of peace and prosperity. I nominated Tsuke for ruler, and my proposition was met with chants and cheers from my fellow citizens. That night we drank and ate until our bellies were full. Then, as the music of the party grew louder, I silently slipped out of the party. I knew my kingdom would be safe, and I had heard there was a disturbance in the distant land of the zebras, so I grabbed my snow horse and rode into the sunset. Then I realized it was 6:30 AM.

Leaving my snow horse tied in a local saloon, I grabbed my robe and towel and showered as fast as humanly possible. I grabbed the first t-shirt I could find, and put on pants like a boss. Luckily, I had made some cookies the day before, so I grabbed some of them for the way and I got inside my car. As fate would have it, I arrived three minutes late to class, but was let in anyway due to my charisma. And now I find myself sitting inside the classroom, watching the teacher program some kind of company crap.

Fucking mondays…