Word Crazy. Stir Crazy.

It’s been about a minute since I last posted anything on here. I’ve been back in Boone for a week now. I have not spoken a single word at any of my roommates nor give them a single glance. I do not acknowledge their existence. That’s how I truly feel. It’s not just them, but everything else in this reality that I live in. I guess you can say that I’ve escaped into my fantasy world.

I’ve been slaving myself away at my WWE game creating more superstars for my promotion. I’ve even made my own arena and “shows”. I’ve uploaded them. I’ve shared them on the CAWS.WS forum. People are actually noticing my work and downloading them. Here’s a show case of my work.

Suddenly I feel like everything is giving me ideas. Not just for my fictional wrestling promotion, but for everything else. It’s like everything my senses pick up is making me get all tingly. I sometimes feel like my cells are bursting like lightning bolts. Even more so since I’ve returned.

Other than that, nothing terribly exciting or overly dramatic has occurred. I survived the cold weather. It’s now a nice, comfortable 56 degrees outside. That’s warm for Boone, NC for those that are wondering. I thought I’d be having multiple mental meltdowns by now, but nothing has happened. I thought I’d be fighting off more bad thoughts and feelings too, but I’ve had nothing of the sort.

I’m thinking about taking this creative binge of mine to the next level. I think I’m gonna showcase my fictional writing here. The stuff I don’t plan on publishing for fame and fortune anyway. Then again anything is possible. I might be able to open up a second blog here and on Tumblr. I’ll start from there and see what develops after that. Once I have something to share with everyone then I’ll let all my followers know.

Could this be another crazy idea of mine that I might never follow up on? Or try and fail? No way to find out except to go through with it. Besides it’ll be nice to share something else that doesn’t revolve around depression or life in Boone. Or life in a reality that I sometimes hate living in.

This is the part where my ticking bomb goes off.

Later days.

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Detonations

This is a continuation of that little bomb I mentioned that’s inside of me. There was a lot of details I never got around to writing because my head went all kablooey on me. At first I felt something sitting at the pit of my stomach, but now I feel like there’s something that’s taken root inside of me. I feel it in the marrow of my bones.

This feeling isn’t anything negative at all. I think it’s something inside of me that’s been dormant until now. Somehow I’m tapping into it. It’s as if something is waking up inside of me. Another side of me that I’ve kept buried underneath everything.

As honest as I’ve been through my blogging, therapy, and everything else I’m beginning to think that I’ve put on a facade without realizing it. It’s like a mask is finally being ripped off and my true self is finally coming out to play. Up until now any semblance of my true thoughts and feelings have only come out in spurts. Much like my creativity.

That little burst in my last entry serves as a good example. Being an older student in a place like Boone means having to be surrounded by a bunch of younger people. Normally I wouldn’t let the age thing be an issue. If you’re cool then I’m cool. If we happen to like the same thing, awesome sauce. However it means having to deal with snowflakes on a daily basis. I can’t say or post shit without running the risk of offending anybody. I’m not even trying to offend anyone. I’m not trying to go to war with anyone. I’m just putting my shit out there.

Of course the snowflake thing isn’t exclusive to Boone. It’s everywhere. When I was younger and something offended me and I blew up about it I was told the following:

1.) “Aye hijo! Just ignore them!”
2.) “Get thicker skin man.”
3.) “Fuck them. Just do you.”
4.) “Brush that shit off and keep it moving.”

Despite my many flaws and depression I manage to do just that. If something hurts because of what someone says I embrace it, accept it, and move on.
Meanwhile everyone else has become oh-so-fragile. Everything is a slap in the face. I could blow a fart and they’d be blown all the way to Australia or whatever. And I’ve done nothing but be mindful of them at my own expense.

Now I’m not just talking about snowflakes. I’m talking about everybody that I’ve ever met. So many of them have operated under some double-standard bullshit. It’s okay for them to state their own thoughts, but then I get reamed whenever I even respectfully disagree. If there’s something I like someone has to shit on it but it’s not ever okay for me to do the same. It’s okay for people to insult, have a dark sense of humor, or being able to express themselves but it’s not okay for me. That’s all I’ve ever gotten out of people.

I thought I had gotten over the all the anger and hate that consumed me from long ago. But no…it’s still inside of me. And I don’t feel like fighting it anymore.

I am who I am. I like what I like. I can do and say whatever the hell I want and to hell with the consequences that come with it.

I don’t deal with slaps to the faces I deliver super kicks to the teeth.

The facade ends now. I’m ripping off this mask.

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And now my head’s getting all kablooey again. I’m ending things here.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

In the last few days I’ve had an uneasy feeling building up inside of me. At first I thought it was the usual anxiety, Nightmare Syndrome crap. But there’s something else underneath it all. While there’s bad stuff I feel something else. I think it might be something positive. I’m hoping it’s something positive. Maybe the best way to describe it is that it feels like there’s something powerful inside of me. It sitting at the pit of my stomach like a bomb waiting to go off.

Whatever it is I feel like it is overpowering the anxiety. I can hope that it’s something good. If not, then what else could it possibly be? If it’s killing off my “Nightmares” then how could it not be?

The stuff fueling the “dis-ease” comes from minor stuff anyhow. Like cutting it close to make the tuition payment. I know I’m not too late because I’ve been checking my student e-mail and there’s nothing unusual. Appalachian State may not be the most prestigious school, but they’d have alert me if something was up. I know this all too well from my past summer. See the post “Being Real” for a refresher.

The same type of shitty feelings from back then I was feeling. I was afraid like the Babadook or some other type of monster was going to appear, cut open my stomach, eat away at my innards, and leave no trace of meat left on my bones after spitting them out.

No e-mails that demand a meeting with Early Intervention Team, no notice on registration being cancelled, no financial or academic probation letters, and no warning to let me know that time is almost up. Nothing. So I should be comfortable knowing that I still have time. Right? Ideally yes. But there’s still something bugging me that I can’t quite put my finger on.

I talked to my Mom and cousin, Rebecca, about how nervous I feel about the future after graduation. I do still have that fear inside of me, but I don’t think that’s it either.

I’ve had nothing but time to get to know my Nightmare Syndrome and the things that make my brain switch between “Fight or Flight”. So whatever causing both the uneasiness, it’s something else entirely.

What’s caused this bomb to form inside of me, however, I can wager a guess. I had been meaning to write about this for awhile but I couldn’t find the proper words until now.

After my previous post from last week my moods kept shifting. I took some initiative and decided to cut some people out of my life. I’ve dramatically downsized my Facebook friend’s list. There were too many people that were there for decoration. Something that I thought had done something about after the Eclipse. But no, there were still a lot of people who never speak to me, never cared about me, and do nothing but heckle me. They had to go! I even deleted my roommates. I blocked everyone to really seal the deal.

I’m currently rummaging through other things that I no longer need. Basically it’s like I read through “The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up” and ran with it. If something or someone doesn’t bring me joy anymore, it’s gotta go.

I’ve been creating a lot more things lately. Especially on my WWE game.

Made a lot of title belts. As you can see. Making an entire roster for my own fictional wrestling promotion and making other stuff too.

Of course I’ve also been doing the “look within yourself” type of stuff and realized a few things.

I’m sick of shit. I’m sick of other people’s shit. More so than usual. I’ve tried very hard to be mindful of people, their opinions, their way of live, their vices, their really shitty sense of humor, and overall put up with all manner of fuckery just to maintain some false sense of peace. At my own expense.

Well FUCK THAT. I’m not dealing with it anymore. All that’s done is tie me down! It’s kept me from showing everything that I can do! It’s caused me to say “I’m sorry” even when there is nothing that I should be apologizing for! And I’m done with it!

I deserve to be happy!!! I deserve to live as my true self without offering apology for shit that resulted in some stupid snowflakes getting their paper thin assholes hurt because of something I say or because I don’t agree with every fucking stupid thing that they stand for!!!

Oh boy….I’m losing it now…..

Has the bomb gone off inside of me? I dunno….

Might be a good idea to stop here because my thoughts are in a million puzzle pieces right now.

Um…later guys.

My Boulevard of Broken Dreams

So for the better part of my evening last night I spent my time creating wrestlers on my WWE 2k18 game, after somehow losing my data (I’m not bitter Sony…). Let me tell you, it’s a time consuming process when you’re trying to create your own fantasy promotion. Here’s a few pics of the chick I created.

I named her Sophia Riley. She’s a British punk rock warrior. I’m proud of this creation and currently working on her background. But sometime between deciding how big Sophia’s ass should be and making a move list that didn’t make her overpowered as hell….

I was lamenting. Over shit that I have no power over. Go figure huh? My tragic little writer’s brain was working in overtime. I’ve been on another creative binge. I should be happy about it. I’m creating my own world and making it as detailed as possible without having to worry about what others think. But I have no one to share any of it with. Yes, I do have friends that support my writing and try to offer help whenever I need it. But I feel like I can’t share everything with them. I’ve mentioned this before, there aren’t a lot of people who are on the same wavelength as me. Not since that one friend from long ago.

I started to feel lonely. Then angry. And bitter. Earlier yesterday I felt jealous of others who have no problems with connecting with people, keeping friends close, having everything they want, and doing whatever they’d like without anything holding them back. But then I remind myself that it’s better this way. How much happier would I be conforming to something? Especially when the majority of the human race repulses me on a chemical level.

In fact the more that I’m thinking back on it the louder the Green Day song plays in my head. I’m sure you know which one. The lyrics resonate with everything that I feel.

-I walk a lonely road. The only one that I have ever known. Don’t know where it goes, but it’s only me and I walk alone.
-My shadow’s the only one that walks beside me. My shallow heart is the only thing that’s beating. Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me. Till then I walk alone.

Pretty sure I’ve just embodied the ultimate package of a writer’s cliche.

Nobody to understand or appreciate the things I create. Nobody to make time for me. Nobody to see, listen, or truly accept me. Nobody in this reality of flesh, blood, chaos, death, and decay. Just me and a million of imaginary friends that live inside my head.

In a way this gives me more motivation to move forward and deal with things. You’re gonna have to excuse this melodramatic statement, but here it goes…

I refuse to have my thoughts and ideas die with me. My dreams will not stay as dreams. And if I’m forced to do things alone then so be it. These feelings of loneliness and negativity suck, but not as much as people do these days.

These feelings I will embrace and turn them into power, motivation, and creative fuel as well.

Everything and everybody else…fuck them. Chuck it in the “Fuck It” Bucket and keep it moving.

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That New Year, New Me Bullshit

It is day two of 2018. I celebrated New Year’s Eve with my relatives. The majority of that day was spent in the kitchen making both croquettes and sushi. My sushi game isn’t entirely perfect, but it’s a vast improvement from where I was in the beginning. It’s a not a recipe to take lightly. A fun time was had by all.

I’m not depressed or anything. Really, I’m not. But I kept my excitement for the New Year in check while everyone keeps talking about what they hope 2018 will bring, posting resolutions and lofty goals about some cliched stuff like losing weight, finding romance, or pursuing unfulfilled goals. Your run of the mill “New Year, New Me” bullshit.

I have thought of what I want, but I don’t feel like sharing it with everyone like I normally would. Besides, let’s be real, I’ve been sharing that sort of stuff in almost every other post I’ve ever written.

When I tried writing my own list of resolutions it came out looking like something else. It looked more like a “Fuck It” List. That much I will share.

There is some shit that I’m just done with. I say “Fuck It” to all that stuff.

I’m done with the following…
-Overthinking
-Overanalyzing
-Biting my tongue.
-Being invisible.
-Being so damned mindful of others at my own expense.
-Holding back everything I think or feel.
-Caring about how others think or feel.
-Fearing consequences.

I’m like Wade Wilson. My brain is switched to “Fuck it”. More than likely I’m gonna come off as someone whose campaigning for biggest bitch of the year. I don’t even care about that. That’s the upside of getting older. The older I get, the less I care. I pulled that line from Wanda Sykes by the way. It matches my mood. I no longer possess any type of energy for any artifice or facades of any kind.

At first I thought this was depression doing the thinking and talking for me. But nope, I’m just fed up with things the way they are and how I’ve been living my life up until now.

My life doesn’t completely suck. I’ve been in tighter, uglier spots. But I’m not living the fairy tale I’ve always wanted either. If anything had gone according to plan I’d have been done with college, be a published author, travelled to Japan, and have married the man of my dreams.

Meanwhile I see everyone getting what they want because they’ve followed through on their rigid 5 year plans. Then I get so jealous that my eyes turn emerald green. Jealousy is still such a abnormal feeling for me. I had never been jealous of anyone my entire life until four years ago. I wish I could cut it out of my body like a cancerous tumor just like everything else that I don’t like about myself.

So I’m gonna take that jealousy and use it as motivation. Everything that’s ugly in this reality will no longer obstruct me, but will give me power. Whatever I don’t like about myself I will not allow it to have control over me. Doesn’t matter if it’s my “Nightmare Syndrome” or anything else.

So there’s my “New Year, New Me” bullshit. I leave you with that.