Dear Alien

Dug from an old notebook. I have many of those. I wrote this during a playwriting workshop session within 10 to 15 minutes. Raw, no editing.From my notes I gathered that this exercise helps you explore your voice as a writer.

Here's the exercise, as far as I can remember. You can try it out too.

Pen a letter to an alien, an opening letter to get him/her interested to be your friend

1. Pick an alphabet. A-Z, yes. (Mine was N.)

2. List 15-20 words beginning with your chosen alphabet.

3. Write letter littered with the list of words. In that order.

Note that this was written in 2006, when I was still pondering on what to do with my life, in a job I'm not happy with, and bitter that I don't have a Bachelors title to put within my namecard, yet not doing anything about it. I was also potty mouth. A vulgarian. Okay, still am actually. But one can't nabei here and nabei there too often when you're in your mid twenties, bah.

The 24-Hr Playwriting Competition by Theatreworks is happening this month, and I'll try to post my findings as I prepare myself for this year's contest. Didn't prepare well last year.

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Dear Alien,

Damn nabei, I tell you, the world I live in! Yes, the style I speak in might sound new to you, but never mind lah. Soon, I'm going to be telling you more bloody nonsense you've never went through. Of course, I'm here, assuming that you have beady eyes, grey in colour, huge bottom, like in those Hollywood movies. Erm, what is Hollywood? Yeah, you don't know that either. So where do I start?

Really, seriously, What do you want to know? If I'm going to put myself in your shoes or whatever you guys happen to wear on your feet (If you have any). I'm going to think that you would be interested in our people. People who like neutral colours. People who like brighter colours. The world is full of colours but yet, the naughty things happen to be black. Like the lacy underwear I wear on, erm, special occasions. I mean those nights which I'm brought to Neverland, if you know what I mean, heehee. Okay. Maybe you don't once again.

Now, usually when I start writing stuff that has gone out of point, I'll tear the letter away. Or perhaps you've, by now, chosen to tear this away because you don't know what I'm talking about.

Let's start with questions then. Do you like to nibble? Yes I like to nibble alot ,especially on my finger. It gives me the intellectual look - like I'm thinking of something deeply. It's important to look intellectual, especially in this world, else no one will really take you seriously. If not, how to survive?

Well, my world's president's name is Nathan, but I believe it's much longer than that. But we just call him Nathan for short. S.R. Nathan. What's your president's name? Must be very long as well, huh? Considering these important people having the longest name and sometimes beneath their names they have to tell their father's names, and what university they studied in, and their masters, and their PHD. Just another way of making yourself more important and appear intellectual once again.

I consider myself normal, and by normal I don't have the longest name. I take the MRT to work everyday, and my hair's the same as the rest of the girls taking the MRT. Long, straight, boring. How do you look? Do you consider yourself normal? Do you happen to look the same as the rest of your alien buddies? If you come here you probably wouldn't look normal. Not that that is a good thing. This world we live in don't like people that look different. But feel free to come and visit my house. It's away from people, my parents watch TV the whole night, and I wouldn't judge you, haha.

Talking about my parents, my father's interested in poking needles into people. Apparently that's supposed to help you feel good afterwards if you happen to be ill. Yes, people fall ill easily in this world. We got things like fever, cancer, flu, and if you've got anything of that sorts, you don't have to go to work. Which is a good thing.

Do you always have any work to do? Because no work is good. It'll be a good place to live in. I wake up every morning wishing that I don't have to go to work. And then I'll fall back asleep but I'll be awaken by the neighbours' kids going to school.

Well, got to go. Perhaps you can reply my questions, and then there'll be communication between you and me?

Yours sincerly,
JY.