It's time to lay out my story ideas. I'll approach this like a one man writing group: first expose the ideas, then use my multiple personalities to give several subjective critiques.

A.) Story of the pursuit of perpetual creativity. This becomes an obsession and it costs the protagonist all that he failed to realize was dear to him. He eventually has chance to regain what he lost, and at that time serendipity presents him with the goal of his pursuit. Does he choose his passion or his heart?

Critique 1: This has been done before. Frame this story in a different light. Perhaps from the point of view of an AI entity recalling his beginnings.

Critique 2: The protagonist must be a computer programmer. The "pursuit" cannot be captured under any other character. But avoid the cliche Neo (Ken the Tech) type, otherwise we fly too close to the movie Pi.

Critique 3: The ties to music (harmony), progress, NP complete algorithms, God creation, life, etc... cannot be avoided. It would frustrate the audience. But do not introduce an actual God or an NP complete solution (dues ex machina... cheap trick).

List of characters and personality traits:

Jeff: The name itself means "Stranger". His last name could be "Mersault" in honor of Camus... Or "Lomman, which means "bare one" or "naked" since the stranger is a blank slate (could also bring up a death of a salesmen inference). This person is an ideal narrator, but shouldn't be used as a protagonist or antagonist. More of a Nick from Gatsby.

Keith: His name stands for "wood," which has a relationship with ugliness, decay and being at best a temporary luxury. The symbolism is strongest in science where quantum mechanics (particle physics) is considered wood (opposed to relativity which is marble). A good last name could be: Bhor, Feynman, Hadron, Timber or PLANK. He personifies a mess; a multitude of exceptions to the rule, an old way of thinking, a routine filled with quirks just to maintain a subjective interpretation of the world.

Dustin: His name means stone (like Peter), which is (opposed to Keith... marble versus wood) is associated with refinement. He is hard to challenge (even when wrong). His disposition could present a timelessness. Once again this character has strong physics symbolism, such as relativity; a strong geometric approach, while only varying the dimensions. This can be a dangerous personality, as anything is possible, the object simply reacts to its dimensions. Ideal last names include: Reimann, Alberts, Guth, Marabel or Pillar. He would epitomize order, cleanliness and class.

Scott: This name means "Tattoo" and would be associated with a primal, trashy or criminal type. Most likely from a small town; living on the outskirts (maybe in an unincorporated area) in a trailer, where the land overwhelms the law... OR in the slums where there's too many wolves amongst the sheep. The last names could be: Bush(nell), Casmir (meaning "to destroy peace") or Ervin (meaning "wild boar"). He would represent the uncivilized man... tattoo ~~ a stain.

I have nothing to say.

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I am starting to feel a creative drought coming on. This may be due to several conditions:

1.) It is winter. The leaves are gone. Most plants are close to death and the environment is almost void of any animals besides man (and they are depressing enough).

2.) I have been saturated with rest. I sleep too much, lay down too often, watch TV, lounge and relax far too frequently. These lethargic tendencies seem to be lulling me into a vegetative stupor.

3.) I am losing confidence in myself because I haven't produced anything grand. I am starting to think that it is beyond my reach.

4.) I am having a difficult time focusing on small individual tasks and large abstract ones. Its as though I can't see the forest or the trees.

5.) Things aren't changing quickly in my life. Change must occur for any progress. The air feels stale.

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Jesus don't want me for a sun beam

- Nirvana

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I can't stand phone cards. You spend 5 minutes punching in the ungodly amount of digits to make a 30 second phone call just to save 10 cents.

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I have developed a strong appreciation for the dirty martini. Of course I would likely enjoy any drink that included an olive impaled upon a little skewer.

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I think I know why I haven't yet written a novel: I am so concerned about choosing the proper setting, characters, plot and theme that I can't decide on any of the hundreds of ideas I imagine. There is no other excuse. I should just throw such immobilizing caution to the wind and go on instinct. Let the critics determine my fate (they can't be any worse then my own internal critic). This isn't my modus operandi, but I need to learn to adapt.

My dream last night was bazaar. I dreamed that I was a rodent in a community of rodents, and we all worked at scavenging these tiny flecks of gold. We'd gather them and form long ropes of brittle gold. I knew I was able to communicate with the other rodents but refrained from doing so in order to be more productive in my collecting of gold. The master of the rodents was a man in golden armor. From my rodent perspective these armored men were the size of buildings. But even they obeyed another.

The supreme masters were extraordinarily strange organisms that resembled a sweaty neck attached an electronic plate, anchored magnetically to the wall beside the door. This neck-like entity had a single orifice (like a sphincter) expanding and contracting as the neck curled from side to side overseeing the activity. This being communicated telepathically.

For some reason I wasn't susceptible to the mind control and I tried to convince the other rodents to revolt. My efforts failed to recruit any rodents, but it did draw the attention of the man in the golden armor. I wouldn't be silenced and kept pleading the others to join me; instead they just ignored me and continued collecting the flakes of gold.

The guard brought me to the wall and raised me up to the supreme master. I immediately felt the impact of it's presence and had a powerful urge to gather the gold specs strewn about the floor... my next memory was indeed that.

I gathered enough and forged a small rope before I realized I was under mind control. Instead of weaving it into the collective rope I dragged it to a corner and wound it into a golden disc. My intent was to destroy the supreme master, so I whipped the disc toward the wall, but the master used its power to deflect it back towards me... to kill me.

As the disc ricocheted back, time slowed and I was able to move aside, grabbing the disc in the process and using my center of gravity to swing the disc back with even greater speed. The supreme master was still too powerful and was one again able to deflect the golden disc, but not back in my direction. Instead the disc ended up lodged in the head of the man in the golden armor.

I was remorseful that this person died. As the man collapsed to the ground, the supreme master looked at me. I communicated to it that He (? sexless) was the intended target. Without reaction the supreme master's plate began to slide down the wall towards a communication console at the base of the door (likely to alert others of the escalating problem).

Taking advantage of the moment, I scurried over to the armored man and dug the disc out from his head in order to attack the supreme master again. Just as the neck reached the console, I threw the disc and sliced through the neck, severing the tip.

The sphincter pulsated a few times on the floor. At this time the rodents finally stopped their work. I tried to explain my reasons for trying to break the trend. I foretold of a less subservient and more fulfilling life.

After the sphincter's last pulse, all the doors slammed, the windows shut and the lights went out. There was a brief pause... then the rodents began to shriek. Nothing could be seen but I knew they were attacking one another.

I regretted ever setting them free.