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Hierarchy Of Nonsense

Pointless Stories during a Pointless Time

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Why Pointless Stories?

Because we live in a pointless time!

On a more serious note,  why did I choose to start this blog? Simple! I have never been good at verbal communication. The only way I know how to express my feelings is through writing.

Through the stories on this blog, I want to achieve the following goals:

  1. Get better at exploring themes like existentialism and absurdism in my writing.

  2. ​Write morally grey characters (it is fun to have assholes for protagonists!)

  3. ​Try out different genres.

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Buy The Book!

I FINALLY WROTE THE BOOK!

 

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To the cockroaches, the lizards, and the rats I saw in my bathroom; the Uber driver who gave me an existential crisis for asking me about my future plans; the unfortunate AC transit passengers who saw me pretending to be my characters; the nail cutter that broke when I tried to cut my toenail – somehow, you are all part of this novel.

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This story is no fairytale, although it does have fairies and creatures with tails.

 

This story is not about a strong warrior unless one counts our protagonist being at war with the morphological features of what makes a human.

 

This story ends on a cliff with lots of different hangers.

 

Most stories make sense. This one hardly does.

All My Stories

SHORT STORIES

A Living Ghost Story

My wishes came true on Saturday night of 18th November. I was lying on a bed, watching the ceiling fan egregiously turn…so cyclic and so...

Dreaming Trees

“For your next assignment, write a story based on your dreams,” Belle said, frantically plodding from one corner of the room to another,...

A Lilac Date

She summoned herself out of oblivion and dreadfully whirled around Nate like the slow currents of water circling a dirty sink. Nate tried...

Ants

CONTENT WARNING: THE ENDING MIGHT BE A LITTLE DISTURBING!!! Rebanto sat cross-legged, leaning against the playground slide, keenly...

The Yogi Who Travelled Through Time

Anne watched the candle in front of her flicker as the doors behind her were propped open, and a mighty gust of wind rushed in. She heard...

Pluto

As the morning sun gleams from the horizon, casting a golden glow through the dense canopy of tall, oaky trees, an oxcart squeakily rolls...

The Loveless Love

George Kampton Henry was raised in a rainforest by penguins. Before the reader rages at the idea that penguins cannot actually exist in...

The Bus and The Books

There is a deep ache in my heart, for it sings verses of a poem I cannot understand. I wish I could explain this rhythm to you. It’s like...

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