The GMRC Notebook

  FADE IN: INT. COURT ROOM - DAY WE OPEN in a ruthless and plain conference room. The sun passed through the windowpane, revealing two characters talking with each other. Everyone held their breath during the start of the victim’s cross-examination.   MR. REY (50) is the honored judge of said court. He is strict, meticulous, but ultimately has a heart for justice that even the most ruthless of villains have a chance to defend their story. He is dressed in a robe.   MR. REY Order! Order in the court, please. We shall begin the cross-examination. Mr. Chiu if you may please? MR. CHIU (30) is an amateur public lawyer. He is always anxious and nervous, yet deep inside he wanted to spread nothing but integrity. He is shaking while dressed in an office-like attire.   MR. CHIU (Nervous) Thank you, your honor. Coming from the suburbs of Atlantis, may we call upon the victim - Ursula.   URSULA (40) is a villainous Cecaelia dubbed as the sea witch. She was known to despise...

  “Alright Ricky, I want you to tell me where you got that inspiration from?” the interviewer asked. “It’s unimaginable really, people may think that everything that I’m about to say is nothing but a big load of bogus, and I don’t blame them one bit”. The interviewer left out a big sigh “That’s why I’m interviewing you right? Since people are interested to know your story behind the song”. “Well then, what I’m about to say is nothing but mere facts, I’ll leave you to interpret all the details that happened on that single day” Ricky smirked.   It was a day like any other, or more apparently relatively yet even more terrible than the last. It was eight in the evening, Lucy was out with her usual crew selling out drugs and getting high. My stepfather would go to different houses, getting drunk, and would often recklessly go out fighting all sorts of strangers. Well, what do I expect from a no-good ex-convict right? And mom, like her familiar everyday self, would wobble around the...

And there it was, subtle as ever Full of refinement that can’t be measured   It sat there, staying in white nothingness   Nothing but its ink, filled that devoid presence   It created immense, complex projects Written by a man whose ahead by the present   Such click from a key contributed to history   Every letter by the font contributed to his story.   Many astonished by the sight of such words Words in font’s fashion, weirdly bringing forth colors   Yet slowly but surely, it soon shall disappear   Not the font, but the power it held so dear   Then in 5 months where May’s flowers shall bloom   The ability of such font will be consumed soon.   He waved his adieu, that innovative man   Thanking a moment with Times New Roman