March 2010
10 posts
(317): and ill be dreaming of you. not in a creepy...
http://tfl.nu/pn6a
I need more followers.
– Pabhon Poonpatana, [via religion]
An Ill Fated Short Story. Submitted for Assessment
You’re wasting your life reading this. I’m going to disappoint like you have a vagina. And I hope that and the illiteration in the title intriguing enough to make you read this. Please Don’t
Hurling through Time
Let the record show, I never wanted my wisdom teeth out but they were about to dismantle three-thousand dollars worth of orthodontics. Also, I asked for local...
Once upon a time...
Pabhon made up his own fairytale for a game concept. He then used that game concept for a writing exercise. That writing exercise was about dumping information via story.
Silver woke up to the swinging of hatchets, this part of the forest use to be quiet until that red hooded girl disappeared. Didn’t matter all that much, she slept like she had just pricked her finger on a spindle. The stone...
I should've just written Por and Elliot. Then hung...
An Exercise on generative silence and foggy signifier (saying things that the audience “gets” like Dane Cook being synonymous with douchebag/douchbaggery). Am actually quite proud of this one.
“What about her?” I asked. “She looked like sex and desperation.”
“What does that even mean?” He replies.
“And her?” I said pointing to a petite seven walking out of the lecture hall.
...
Dear Mr Ellroy. I'm sorry. Love Pabs
An Exercise where I mimiced James Ellroy’s “The Cold Six Thousand”. Its pretty obvious where he stopped and I started.
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