A dark and dank basement reeks with pipes leaking stale water and all kinds of other sewerage from the hostels above. Teenage boys and young men who reside in those hostels eat the unhealthiest shit hence, the smell of their shit comes off more morbidly than any other regular human being’s defecation’s would. It has an acidy tint to it, the smell of the sewerage does, but that doesn’t bother me or the girl in a hijab sitting next to me or the junkie sitting by my other side.

We have our laptops in front of us, and we are typing away like the world depends upon it. It actually doesn’t.What are we typing? Nothing of substantial importance. The girl on my left, she’s updating product descriptions for a client I snagged from the US. US clients are the best by the way. They’re equal amounts hopeful, gullible, stupid, brilliant, empathetic and apathetic all at the same time. God, I love Americans.

The boy on my right, well I cannot call him a boy to his face but in my mind, even though he’s thirty right now, he’ll always be a boy; he’s writing up a story about a prostitute who found redemption in her love for a Nigerian prince who happened to be white. I know, right? He looks like a junkie, his eyes have sunken deep in his skull and his breath is raspy. His arms and hands shake of their own accord if he’s sitting still but whilst writing, he’s as steady as Leonardo Di Caprio from The Departed when he’s under pressure. I get it Leo, you don’t crack. But sadly, I suspect that the brilliant writer to my right does crack and that too daily. But I won’t judge him or intervene because that’s not what we do here. We write. Period.

Me, myself and I are writing three different things at the same time. In one tab of Microsoft Word, I am currently finishing up a Harry Potter fanfiction where Sam, Dean and Castiel are the new Defense Against the Dark Art teachers at Hogwarts.

In another tab open in Kali Linux-which I set up as a virtual OS in my computer by using VMware- I have Libre Office fired up and am writing an article labelled “Entrails ripped from a Virgin’s cunt“. I need a lot of camouflaging for that. Hence Linux. If someone accidentally came across this neo-satanic shit that I am writing, they’d jail my ass first and assign a prison shrink to me who’d sooner rape me and feed me Haloperidol than actually benefit the current state of my mind. I don’t ever plan on publishing  that article that I am writing, but you know, I gotta write it. I gotta. For the Lulz.

In the third tab, opened up in FireFox in Windows, I have my blog opened up and am typing up this very  blog post.

The first rule of Write Club is that you always write about write club. We need all the blog views that we can get so that it generates revenue XD

The second rule of Write Club is that nothing is off limits. You can finish up your homework assignment, you can finish up your story that you’re writing for a client or you can even update your blog. You can do it here. It’s a safe space, there are laptops at your disposal or if you are a person who abides by the pen and paper, they’re here for you too.

However, that is not what I really meant and you know it. I meant that you can write about literally anything pertaining any topic and no one would bat an eye. Life is not politically correct and neither should your writing be. You get what I mean?

I swear to God, if Manto and Faiz  were alive, they’d be the first ones in my Write Club. Chuck and King are already a part of it and they don’t even know of it yet. They don’t need to know. No one needs to know. If you are a writer and you spend your writing wisely, spewing truth no matter how venomous or stupid or blasphemous it seems, you are a part of the Write Club.

Do right by what you write, blow the whistle, state facts that haven’t yet come to light, write, even if you know what you are writing will face dismissal. But be warned though, if you write something that isn’t correct, and is unnecessarily racist, and is offensively mediated, we, the writers of the Write Club will find you, and we will kill you. #JK

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Ever since I Write Like stated that I write like Chuck Palahniuk, I have been obsessed with the guy. I will be honest; I hadn’t read Fight Club before. It was not readily available in my country as either a paperback or a hardcover and I was kinda waiting for the perfect moment to order it online. But I couldn’t wait any longer so I downloaded a pirated version of it and read it in one go. The movie I’ve seen 69 times already.

On to his next book now, It’s called Invisible Monsters.

 

 

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