The Balance of Two Worlds

As a writer I feel myself caught between different realms of both reality and fiction. It doesn’t help that I’m in the more practical major of journalism when my first love is fiction writing. Then there’s also the fact that I’m always creating different stories with different people and not all of them happen to take place on Earth as we know it.

I’ve always struggled with establishing order between all of it. I always felt that if I preferred one over the other that there’d be a severe penalty to pay. But now it seems like that way of thing has been wrong. Just like when I had that negative mantra of “I’m not allowed to be happy.”

Its nice to be wrong sometimes. I’m starting to find my balance. I find myself able to traverse between the different worlds. I’m able to do what needs to be done in reality and write to my heart’s content just like all the other working writers that came before me.

I’ve been writing lot of drafts lately. It feels like the gears in my mind were stuck until now. This morning I went nuts with making the details on this story world I’ve been working on. It feels great.

Now back to reality…

I got my exam back from earlier this week. I crushed it!! I totally crushed it!! I have two incompletes recorded from spring semester, but now I have chance at making things right again. I spoke with both my professors. It’s more work put on my lap, but I can handle it. I’m not the same as I used to be. So it can be done.

I want to dive in and get back to my fiction, but right now there’s only so much I can do on an empty stomach. I need to eat something!

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The Academic Gauntlet

Random PenSword Fact #5: On Wednesdays I wear black. Then I go watch MMA.

Damnit I am hungrier than Venezuela right now. My family is Venezuelan, I can make that joke. Waiting up on some pizza and figured the best way to kill the time is write something.

Fuck this weather, I swear. I will be so happy when Mother Nature calms her stupid tits already. Sometimes I imagine that if Mother Nature had a face she’d resemble Ann Coulter.

My female roommate is complaining about how cold it’s gotten. Which is ridiculous because this is nothing compared to the winter season. And she’s supposed to be from Illinois too. Last time I checked that wasn’t a very balmy place either. And yet she’s still complaining? Life is so gonna kick her ass.

It’s time to buckle down. The work is really beginning to pile up and I’m already having issues with keeping up. With my symptoms acting up it’s making things more challenging than it needs to be. But there’s nothing else I can do except to just power through it all.

*sighs* All right then, I’m gonna brew some coffee, blast some music, and get to work. I’ll knock things out of the park and when I’m done I’ll give myself the time needed to sit down and write something for myself. Something that’s not for a grade or for WordPress.

Here I go!

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Musings of a Broken Dreamer.

Random PenSword Fact #3: I’m Venezuelan-American. But I’ve been mistaken for so many different things. I’ve kept a list of it; Mexican, Puerto Rican, Peruvian, Turkish, Arabian, Egyptian, Greek, Italian, Philippine, Korean, Russian. There are some days where I don’t even know what the fuck I am anymore.

It’s game day here in Boone. Um…yay…

I’m not a football guy. If it was a WWE or UFC event that’d be a different story. Any sports that involve the use of a ball I just cannot get behind it. It doesn’t help that in my Venezuelan household there was always some stupid baseball game playing in the background. Baseball is a huge thing with my Dad. Baseball is hands down the most boring sport ever. Every discussion at the dinner table revolved around baseball. Who’s got the best batting average? Who makes the best pitches? What team is going to the World Series? Whose out with a torn ACL?

It took every ounce of willpower I had to not take my dinner fork and use it to stab my eardrums with it. That’s one thing I really don’t miss about living at home. Oh wait there is one thing worse than hearing people get so excited about baseball. Fucking Nascar…

The fact that my Dad loves the whitest sport in the world proves that we’ve been living down south in the Carolinas for far too long. This concludes the mindless ranting portion of the post.

After the last post where I mentioned that old friend I had gotten really emotional. I started remembering all the talks we had, all the laughter, all the dreams we had together. I was remembering all the good things. I had to fight the temptation to connect with him.

As much as I’d love to catch up with him, what would the point be? I’ve already pointed out that it’s just a cycle of reconnecting that leads to a disconnection. I’d just fall back into repeating a bad habit all over again. Something that’s counter-productive to everything I’m doing to keep my current positive momentum building. Besides that, I get back in contact with him and what then? I have nothing newsworthy to share with him.

I’m in a better place mentally, but I’m not in a position to boast about anything. In fact in a lot of ways I’m still that same kid with lofty dreams.

We dreamt of going to Japan together. We dreamt of becoming writers and having our work published. We dreamt about making it big in the world. We called ourselves A&A Inc, to represent our names. We dreamt the most loftiest of lofty dreams.

I used to get the biggest high from those dreams. I remembered feeling that passion, that desire to work toward them. I remember those dreams coming back to me at the age of 23 after I tried killing myself. I remember when those dreams returned they came back with greater intensity as if to prove that I was no longer in that dark place I kept myself in the furthest depths of my ruined mind.

Those dreams meant the world to me. They still do to this day. That’s why I overreacted the way that I did back then when he ran away from home and didn’t say anything to me about what he was going through at the time. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that he turned his back on the dreams we shared as friends. I felt like he “sold out” and I remember vowing that I wouldn’t give in. No matter how grueling reality would become I wouldn’t give up on anything. I wanted to carry on with those dreams and realize them for myself. Without even thinking about it that mindset is what brought me to this point.

I’m don’t feel any closer to fulfilling those dreams than I was all those years ago with my friend. Now that I think about it I might have tried taking one too many short cuts along the way. Trying to find a suitable someone to replace that friendship that we had, someone who shared the same vision as me, someone who I could happily speak to about the same interests we share. But that went nowhere. And look where I’m at now. Even the friends I did make after the seperation are no longer by my side.

I remember the first signs of changes in me when I walked away the first time. Everything felt so foreign to me in the beginning; I came out officially not long after that, I fell in love with someone for the first time, I was speaking my thoughts without fear, I was more honest with myself, I took more risks. And after my first stint in therapy I felt all that increase by 100 fold. I felt powerful. I felt like I was no longer the child that my friend saw in me.

Now I’m starting to think that last part was all an illusion. I have this moments where I feel like I never changed at all. Like I’m still stuck in the past. I don’t want to be, but now that I think about him it’s all leading back to that moment.

“Until we’ve truly learned our lesson we will be given the same test again and again”. What am I’m supposed to be learning here?

That I’m some immature, selfish little brat that throws tantrums when reality gets in the way of things? That I can’t change reality? That I can’t take on the world? What?! What big lesson is there I’m supposed to be taking from all of this?

As usual I’m lost. There’s a lot that I do know and all I can do is stick to what I do know. I can’t focus on the things that I cannot do, but always make it about the things that I can do. I can’t let go of those dreams. There’s something in me that just refuses to let go. I can let go of the past and the bitter idea that my old friend and I have grown so far apart. But I can’t give up on Japan, writing, getting published, and wanting better for myself. This much I know is right.

The answers will come to me in one way or another. Right now I don’t want to forget the good times I had with that friend even though it came to an end. I’ve been fighting those memories as if they were my “Nightmares”. It’s like keeping them locked in Pandora’s Box in my mind. Maybe my answers are in those memories. But that doesn’t change the fact that I cannot ever go back to the way things were. That’s a dream I learned to let go.

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My Creative Spark.

Random Pensword Fact #1: Yes I am gay. No, I do not worship Meryl Streep as some primordial Hollywood Goddess. No, I do not own a single Madonna CD or know any of the lyrics to any of her songs. No, I do not have every line of Mean Girls memorized by heart. I might be gay, but there are only so many cliches that I’m willing to embrace.

I’m gonna be starting things off with a Random Fact about myself from now on. Best get used to it.

I had a peaceful Labor Day weekend. I didn’t do anything special. I just had the house to myself most of the time while the roommates were out doing their own thing. That’s if you don’t count having a sickly cat as company. I didn’t do a whole lot. I binged Crunchyroll to get back to my anime-loving roots. I started up my fifth walkthrough with Persona 5, a game that’s basically my heroin. I tried cooking up something nice for myself. Note that I said, “I tried”. That part didn’t go as planned. My sushi rolls turned into a sushi burrito when I ended up overstuffing the rice. But hey, I made sure my ingredients didn’t go to waste. That same day I wanted to make croquettes. Again that didn’t go as planned. I froze them overnight and fried some of them this afternoon. It was horrible. The bread coating was crumbling and the meat was still partially frozen. I was pissed! That’s never happened to me before. I never froze them overnight but I didn’t think it would up in disaster like that. It took me a while to calm down after that.

I had an idea to make a bento lunch. I could’ve gone out and enjoyed myself on campus or on the porch bench while relaxing to one of my new books. I’m juggling Roxane Gay and Haruki Murakami, in case anyone was wondering. But with no sushi rolls or decent croquettes to show for it that didn’t happen. In the end I just stayed planted on the couch and found myself hopelessly addicted to playing more Persona 5 and sitting through the WWE Mae Young Classic, a women’s wrestling tournament. Loved all the female talent that was on display. But I swear to God if Shayna Baszler ends up winning just so WWE can pull some shitty angle with Ronda Rousey’s Horsewomen crew I’m really gonna lose my shit!! Plus I don’t like Shayna Bazsler! I saw her in The Ultimate Fighter season 18. She rubbed me the wrong way back then. She still does. She’s basically Baron Corbin with boobs. And slightly more hair on top. Which begs a question? Why doesn’t that douche heel just shave his head and get it over with? His current hairdo really doesn’t do him much good.

Whoops! That was a rant!

I also tried to write something. Actually I managed to type up 1,146 words earlier tonight. I’m pretty proud of that. I don’t know what I’m writing at the moment. I’m trying to get out of the habit of overthinking things and just fly by the seat of my pants as I write and not worry about anybody else reading it. That’s the best mindset I can go with at this point. As much as I would love to write the next best selling novel or screenplay I don’t see it happening anytime soon.

Not as long as I keep getting ideas for my own Persona, Ghost Busters, Power Rangers, my own wrestling promotion, and my own original EVERYTHING. Seeing as though I find the world to be a toxic place to live, many things are not to my liking, and I have one too many voices living in my head (126,000,000 and still climbing…not that I’m keeping count cause that’d be silly.), and there’s always something that’s fueling my neurosis.

But I have to start somewhere. I’ve had a million ideas for a million different projects that date all the way back to 9th grade and I’ve never truly acted upon them. It doesn’t help that I kept dealing with crushing self-doubt,kept comparing myself to others, and had my “Nightmare Syndrome” to contend with. I never truly acted on my creative side except in small doses. Like tiny blood spurts spitting out of a carotid artery. And even when I do manage to write a piece of fiction for myself (albeit a small piece and by small I’m talking embryo sized) I’ve never found my real voice.

I’ve only tried to mirror what I thought was the proper way. I’ve only managed to write something and project a pseudo voice for writing college papers and nothing else.

I want to do something about all of that before I go and try to score a Pulitzer or an Oscar for Best Screenplay. I got to wrestle with the reality of my situation and current skill level. And I have to do all that while dealing while indulging in my fantasy world.

I’m psyching myself up in the same way I did when I was trying to score the new house, getting better with my depression, and making my comeback with school. I’ll work my way up to the top, write for myself, improve my skills, and see if it will be the cure-all for my problems. I will not stay at some mediocre level forever. By this time next year I will improve so much that I will be ready to take on the world with my imagination. I’m taking my creative spark and letting it shine.

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Signing off with intents set! Also get used to these fancy words being presented at the end of each post. That’s also going to be a new thing from now on. Peace!

Letting Go

I had to be very careful with the wording for the title in this entry. But I’m fairly certain a few people will immediately be filled with the intense desire to break out into song, “Let it go! Let it go! Can’t hold it back anymore!”

There…it’s out of my system for the moment.

The last two nights I’ve been hit with this inexplicable exhaustion. It came out of nowhere and hit me hard like a tidal wave. It left me confused because the only time I had ever felt fatigue like that for no reason at all was during my bouts with depression. So it’s especially odd when I feel it and I’m not depressed at all.

I have more reason to be happy than I have in a very long time. I have a nice house to live in, I survived a grueling summer semester, I’m on the right track to make up for my past failures, I’ve made breakthroughs in my counseling, I’m getting back on track with my schoolwork, and my interests are all coming back to me in full strides.

The day before yesterday I realized that even though I was happy that I didn’t say it out loud. Then I thought back to my previous sessions where I had that mental block that I struggled with that kept convincing that I don’t deserve to be happy. I’m pretty sure that I set myself up for overthinking because not long after that the exhaustion hit me.

I also took the time to reread the previous posts I had written. Wow….I have already come a very long way. The progress didn’t come to me naturally. It had its price that needed to be paid. I’m still paying it. I almost prefer having only real life utility bills and rent to worry about.

When the exhaustion hit me yesterday I started to think of all the things that I was holding on to. Then I started to think about letting things go. The whole “Post Eclipse De-Cluttering” is still underway btw. I think that’s where all the exhaustion is coming from. I’m letting things go, I’m making up my mind about certain things, I’m pulling no punches, and a lot of stuff that used to have power over me and drove me over the edge don’t have the same influence on me like before.

So maybe I’m confusing this exhaustion with relief of finally letting go of things because as of now there’s little for me to actually worry over. I still have some things that I’m holding on to, but little by little that’s all gonna go to.

I spoke with my mom and I told her out loud, “I’m happy”. It felt good to vocalize it. It feels good to finally acknowledge it. But I know I still got my work cut out for me. There’s still a lot for me to do. I’m in a better place now. It was tough getting to this point, but it’s going to be even tougher to never go back to how bad things used to be.

Signing off now. Later days.

Nostalgic Boners and Toxic Fandoms

Warning: The following is an uber nerd rant that might go on for a long time. You’ve been warned. Now it’s time to get my geek on.

I joined up with some fan forums last night. Quite unlike me because I’ve done my best to avoid mingling with fandoms. I used to kick it with the nerd clique which I liked to call “Nerdcore” or “The Nerd Herd” because I figured it’s only natural to want to be around people with similar interests. Did we end up getting along? Yes for the most part. Were there conflicts based on individual tastes, thoughts, and opinions? Yuuuuuuup…..

There are some cancerous people in the nerd community. Straight up. I always end up running into them. It’s an inevitability. It’s a problem when they come in swarms like insects. It becomes an even bigger problem when it seems like you’re under constant attack for the things that you like.

I’m guilty of liking a lot of stuff that’s not popular with other people. Where do I begin?

The anime series, Blood-C. Not for everyone, especially if you’re the squeamish type. It had so much gore that it made Elfen Lied look like a Disney film by comparison. But it actually had a plot that played a good psychological example of Nature vs Nurture and combining it with the whole “Truman Show” scenario. Could it have been executed in a different way? Yes, absolutely. But I think people were so turned off because viewers just had zero patience and didn’t pay attention to what was happening in the episodes that built up toward the end. There were hints everywhere, clear as day. Plus during the last episode there’s a lot more information that’s dropped on everyone’s laps but people don’t get the whole picture. They don’t get the whole picture because they didn’t take the time to put all the puzzle pieces together.

I liked the Ghostbusters and Power Ranger movies that recently came out. Were they perfect? No, of course they’re not perfect. There’s no such thing as perfection. That’s an illusion that people use to set themselves up for disappointment. Are they gonna win any Oscars? I fucking doubt it. But they don’t deserve all the hate that they get from movie viewers and Rotten Tomatoes. The Ghostbusters backlash is purely sexist, nothing more than that. Was it better than the original films back in the 80’s? No, but it wasn’t a complete shit show. It wasn’t a total flop. It could’ve been so much worse than people make it out to be. The same thing with the Power Rangers movie. Rotten Tomatoes labeled it a “box office failure”. Who did the reviewing? Toxic fans who grew up into jaded cynical adults or jaded cynical adults that never watched the original show at all? I loved both those films. I walked out of the movie theater with no regrets and I didn’t feel like my childhood was shat on.

I like some of the more unpopular Final Fantasy titles. My first FF game was Final Fantasy 8 and I fucking loved playing it. It was the second RPG I ever played. That first walkthrough was memorable to me because there was so much trial and error from how I played it and it made the battles especially difficult. Both factors made it all the more gratifying when I finally did beat the game. Is FF8 the best title in the franchise? Does it have the most compelling characters? The biggest replay value? The most amazing plot? No to all of that. But I love FF8 for sentimental reasons. Plus at the time I was playing it I wasn’t looking for any of that in the first place and I didn’t know any of the stuff back then that I know now. So I didn’t label Squall as an emo. Or the romance with Rinoa as uninspired? And I’m not so nerdy that I try to dissect the plot and complain at everything like….”How do you compress time? That doesn’t seem so terrifying…”

Oh yeah and when I was reading the manga, “Claymore”, it pissed someone off so bad that they yelled at me, “That’s just a rip off of Berserk! No, it’s just Berserk with boobs!”

Do you see the pattern here? This is what I call “Pulling a Jon Joel”. Because there was this one asshole in the Nerd Herd circle named Jon Joel who would walk up to you, start up a conversation like so, “What anime/video games are you into?” You proceed to give him an answer and then he responds with, “That’s fucking bullshit! I can’t stand that stuff! I can’t stand those characters! The protagonist is a complete faggot and you’re a faggot for even liking that show!”

Because the whole point of Jon Joel conversing with you is to tear apart everything you love and talk about what he loves because no way he would ever pick a bad anything. He was the sort of extreme weeb who loved to hear the sound of his own voice, bask in the smell of his own shit, and had a butter face that even his own mother would love to throw a brick at. He’s just one of many people who I feel epitomizes that toxic fandom behavior.

Whatever happened with “To each his/her own”? Or common human decency for that matter. I joined up with these forums on some dumb whim and I see so much of that toxic fandom going on just skimming through the site. I almost want to rant in a forum about how the Ghostbusters or Power Rangers movie didn’t suck but I know it’s gonna attract people who will disagree. And the last thing that I want is to have to breathe in more poison than I’ve already have for most of my life.

See? Told ya I was gonna rant. Lately I’ve been indulging myself in a lot of things from my childhood. Nerdy things like Sailor Moon, reading fan fiction, playing retro playstation games, etc. It’s partly depression treatment, going back to my roots and reviving interests that were dying out. The other reason is that naturally they’re all creative fuel for me.

I’m trying to get more serious about my fiction writing. I don’t want to invite anyone else into this fold because past experience tells me that’s not a good idea. People won’t operate on the same wavelength as me and I need to be able to trust myself when I’m writing, especially if I have any chance of making a career out of it. Some of my creative projects are gonna be based off those nerdy nostalgic things that I love so much.

I find myself constantly making a lot of announcements for intentions, but here I go. It won’t be the last time I’ll be doing this. One of the biggest things I’ve struggled with while trying to write is constantly fearing that my ideas aren’t good enough or I’m always giving up on things before I ever truly give them a chance. This is a bad habit that I’m trying to get out of. There’s also the many other facets that come from wanting to write, but that’s the stuff for a whole other blog entry (although I’m fairly certain one of my older posts already covered that). I want to lead a depression free life which I believe can be achieved through writing. I want to write my stories without anymore fear, shame, or self-hate aimed at myself and I need to be comfortable in my own skin to do that. I need to be comfortable with myself by being real with my shit. (Being Real…oh look there’s another throwback to a previous post.)

My New Intentions
1. I want to enjoy the things that make me feel alive.
2. I want to better love myself without reservation.
3. I want to be able to voice my thoughts and opinions without fear.
4. I want to write for me and worry about all the other stuff later.
5. I want to complete at least one creative project before I end up finishing things at App State.
6. I want to break out of self-harming thoughts that have been tying me down.
7. I want to engage with people who aren’t so toxic and leave me to do my own thing without judgement.
8. I want to be comfortable with myself.
9. I want to go after everything that I want without fear in my heart.
10. I want to take better care of myself.
11. I want to live intentionally.
12. I want to forgive myself for never being good enough in the eyes of others or even to myself. Forgive myself for every little thing that I’ve perceived as a failure or defeat. Forgive myself for being different from others. Forgive myself from making progress at my own pace. Finally forgive myself for ever getting lost in life.

I’m done. Later days.

My Own Little World

I’ve been quite the reclusive writer as of late. An escape from reality for me was long overdue anyway. I found a bunch of old drafts and ideas that I had jotted down for the many stories that I never finished or barely started. I feel like I’m reconnecting with old friends whenever I read up on old characters and feeling like I’m reconnecting with my own self as well.

It was always my plan to get back to my writing roots and start back from scratch with my stories and other creative projects. When things in reality turn incredibly ugly like with what’s been happening after the Charlottesville incident and the like it makes it easier to escape. It makes me imagine a world that I’d rather be apart of and people I’d vastly prefer than the people I know.

Of course these escapes can only last for so long. There’s always something in my reality that’s always calling me back against my will; academic responsibilities, people who need me, the fact that I’m going to have my hands filled with other stuff like paying off bills and debts, finding a real job, being a normal functioning member of society….ya’know? All that good stuff.

I’ve been keeping my distance from other people in my life. Including friends I’ve had before I left for Boone. At first I didn’t want to have to deal with people and hear about how great their lives were when I was struggling for the longest time with everything. But now it’s the opposite. Some of them are having their own share of problems as well. If I were the same person I was three years ago then I’d take the time to listen, to help them unload their burden. But I’m not that person anymore. I’ve got problems of my own to worry about. The current state of the world sure doesn’t help either. I don’t need a constant reminder of how horrible things are with Trump in the White House, a bunch of Neo-Nazi shit heads looking to cause trouble, or whatever other issue of the week keeps going on; police brutality, ISIS, and the constant starvation and poverty in Venezuela where my family is from. I see all of this on my social media so I’m forced to disconnect.

The world as I know it now is a toxic place to live in for people like me that deal with depression and anxiety and for those that don’t. I don’t want to run away from reality because I know I have to learn to deal with it all. But I’m only one person with limited means of doing so and my patience can only last for so long.

Normally I’d be questioning myself and overthink things like, “Does this make me a bad person?” “Am I a coward?” Or something to that effect.

But I know that’s not the case. I’m making a choice based on self-preservation. If the world is toxic then it makes sense that someone doesn’t want to be exposed to it. And I genuinely don’t care if anyone disagrees with me on this. This is for me, not for them. Besides even if I wan’t to do something to change the world on an epic scale I can’t do that when I’m not even 100% in the clear with my own issues.

All I have is myself, my writing, and an imagination that’s the closest thing I have to a cure-all. I used to believe that indulging myself in my writing consistently meant that I was just running away from everything; the state of the world, the things that fuel my depression, being single and lonely, drowning in crippling debt, and overall things not going my way. But that doesn’t have to be the case. Losing myself in my own world could be beneficial. I’m not just talking about getting a head start on my writing career. But perhaps in writing I’ll find answers to questions about myself that have bothered me for the longest time and learn how to better understand the reality I live in and better cope with the things that challenge me. That’s what I believe anyway.

In my own little world there are things that come straight from the fantasy novels. Monsters, sorcery, giant mechs, superheroes, etc etc. Sometimes I think a world where these things are included automatically mean I’d be living in a better reality. At least then things would make more sense. There’d be heroes fighting the good fight against the villains and make them pay for their crimes. I wouldn’t be struggling to figure what’s truly right or wrong. I’d know which side to fight on.

In my own little world people are not judged on their religion, their gender, who they’re attracted to, the color of their skin, the languages they speak, or whatever interests they have. People are not defined by their struggles or anything else that makes them feel like dirt about themselves. People are defined by their desires and the actions that they take to make those desires into reality.

People wouldn’t have to struggle over things like money, food, medicine, education, and if anyone or anything gets in the way of these things then they’d go down.

In my own little world that I’m trying to make into a reality…
I’m happy with a man that I love and want to spend the rest of my days with. I’m successful in my career as a writer. I live in a beautiful home. I’ve graduated from App State. I’m depression-free.

Thats all got to say tonight. Later.