Fitzgeraldian

I'll be writing down some story ideas sometime soon, about a girl who commits suicide in a tunnel somewhere on the Chuo Rapid Line in Japan.

Her world will be very beautiful when she wakes up from the dead, with irresponsible people and ghosts on motorcycles and robots at bookstores and satellites in the night,

quite like a world should be--
only nobody has an anchor in this world at all.

(on a side note: My style, I've noticed, is an odd mix between mock-aristocratic Nabokovian prose and Salingerian speech, with perhaps a dash of Fitzgerald's detached-and-descriptive.

Of course, my talent arrives nowhere near any of these men as of now, but I'll get somewhere someday, I swear...)

War on Drugs, again.

Has been revised and is now about a travelling robot who doesn't get attached anybody or anything and a shallow but horribly complex girl with a bunch of dreams and a fragile and infantile boy who worships the gods of logic and I'd like to write the story as completely biased to the robot's narcissistic perspective yet at the same time delve into the psyches of his two friends and remain detached from his own and the cover shall show the same moped, thrice, each frame with him in a different pose around the moped and the words glued on to the page read "The Rise and Fall of the Magnificent Wind-Up Rabbit and Assorted Tales"in reference to his scooter.

Another revolution

I'd like to write a story now,
about a revolutionary in a cold city far up north somewhere, and a utopia which genetically conditions its citizens to feel a sense of moral uprightness from doing things for the good of society, and his band of revolutionaries, including a girl who falls in love with him, and their subsequent exploits.
Near the end, a member of his band, a girl he loves, is captured by the utopian soldiers, who explain to her that the society's genetic programming is not so different, or perhaps superior, to leaving our genes to nature or chance or fate, and upon returning to his band a new woman, she is killed by the revolutionary, who blames the government for her murder. Soon, he arranges the murder of many civilians and convinces the masses that the government did it, and millions of men join his band.
However, one night, they storm a famous monument, and he, seeing their impending failure, deserts them and tries to flee to the walls of the city as his band is slaughtered behind him, all the while screaming into his walky-talky. This is heard, and he is finally cornered, and he opens fire. They shoot him several times in the stomach, and he's horribly frightened, and he begins to cry. He dies the next day at 11, still crying.

Font size is representative of the unimportance of this idea relative to my other story ideas.

War on Drugs, again

I think I'll have the old man live, by the way. The robot will just leave at the end to buy ice cream, but they're out, so he goes to McDonald's to get some.