Consumed.

For the longest time I’ve always wanted to be able to write stories. From the time I was little I was always making these scenarios in my mind, not realizing that I was weaving stories in my own way. I was weaving stories in everything that I was doing. Scribbling down ideas on notebook paper, playing with my action figures, daydreaming how I could emulate the adventures I’d seen in films and books.

For a much longer time I prevented myself from truly embracing my creativity. Whenever someone insulted me or hated on my ideas I took it hard. Whenever someone said that being a writer wasn’t a “practical” career choice it dashed all my hopes and dreams of the future.

Everyone’s thoughts, opinions, comments, intentionally hateful or not, suppressed me. Then I started to buy into it. I suppressed myself with my own theories, my depression, and the like.

I refer to my imagination as the “creation spark”. And now I feel like my “spark” has grown to the point where it’s devoured me in body, mind, and soul. Lately whenever I get involved with something creative it feels like reality fades away. And not only that all the usual noise I’m used to getting from my depression and anxiety…it’s completely silenced.

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Whenever I’m creating something on my WWE game, time slips away from me. Nothing else matters. I don’t hear the disembodied voice that tells me I’m not good enough, never pretty enough to attract a suitor, or that I’m worthless. Even bigger thing to point out is that I’m not comparing myself to other creative minds anymore. I don’t feel anyone else towering over me. That, by itself, is one of the most liberating and empowering things I’ve ever felt.

I don’t care about anyone else’s work. Not even the ones I’ve always admired like Stan Lee, Tarantino, or any of the people I’ve known in my personal life. In my mind, I’ve already declared myself the best creator there is. I haven’t been limiting myself to this WWE game of course. I’m creating my own worlds, finding myself, learning new things, and it’s helping me make sense of everything in this reality that’s always warped my mind.

Somehow I’m becoming completely “Nightmare Proof”. My brain is getting re-wired in a way that overpowers all the depressing thoughts and feelings of anxiety. I feel a lot stronger. I feel like I’m my most authentic self right now. Things don’t worry me like they used to. And if there’s a problem I’m prepared to deal with it.

I’ve always referred to my depression as the “Nightmare Syndrome”. I’ve talked about how every experience feels like fighting monsters left and right. I think now this is the time where I have all the right armor, weapons, and skills needed to actually fight back against all of the things that have ever tried to destroy me; my depression, this unfair reality, and all the people that try to break me down.

I’m still getting the hang of things, but I’m going to see what happens from here and keep everyone posted.

Oh yeah. One more thing. I’m going to create a second site meant for fictional works that I’m willing to share. So for all the loyal followers that are interested, stay tuned and I will keep you updated.

The name of the site is Creation Spark Central. I will be sharing stuff like my fictional universe, my wrestling promotion, my own superheroes, my own everything. Show you what kind of acid trip imagination that I have. It’s not just to show off my writing skills, but also nurture my creativity so that I will never lose it again. I’m not trying to get published and become famous here. Writing and creating need to be fun first before they become a full time job after all.

I leave you with that. Signing off now!

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To My Biggest Hater

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Dear Depression,

I don’t have to listen to a word you say anymore. I don’t need to believe anything you echo into my brain. Yeah you might be a part of me and you might be another driving force behind my writing, but that doesn’t change that fact that you are a hatchet faced lying piece of shit. You’re the part of me that doesn’t want to live and be happy because it’s easier for you to stay where you are, as you are. Stagnant, twisted, hating others, and then react like a fool when things don’t go your way. All you’ve done is weigh me down. I try to show you that life is worth living, I try to love you like all the other parts of myself, I try to convince you that not everything is all doom and gloom, not everyone is a cancerous human being, and not every challenge has to be a fight to the death. I try to show you that there is beauty in everything but all you’ve done is piss all over everything and spit at my face.

You might be a part of me, but you’re just one part that I have to live with. There’s more to me than just you. You’re not the driving force behind anything I say or do anymore. You’re not my crutch, I don’t need a crutch. I don’t need to prove or do anything for you or for anybody else. So I’m gonna live, feel good, and do the damn thing for myself. You don’t get to be a factor in anything anymore. So fuck all your noise. In fact, fuck your shit. I’m done with you. I’d love to say “It’s been fun”, but we both know that’d be a bold faced lie. This is goodbye!

Sincerely,
Alex “Pen” Martinez

Pomegranate Tea

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It’s official. I’m a tea person now. Move aside Kermit! And now that I’ve got my tea what else can I say other than…

Writer Brain Engines, Activate!!!!

I made this tea with the actual fruit. If anyone’s curious go check out Maangchi’s cooking channel on YouTube. 최고의 아줌마.

This tea is good for the nerves….

Victory!!!

So I have a paper in media ethics that’s due tomorrow. I was nerve wracked mess for weeks because I had nothing to work with. I could write my fictional stuff without breaking a sweat but I couldn’t do the work where it mattered most in this crapshack reality I live in.

But guess what? I got it done!!! I started off with absolutely nothing, but then I ended up with eleven sources, seven pages, and a total of 1817 words!!! All with proper in-text citation mind you…

I finished it like five minutes ago. I still have other papers to finish, but that was the one that bothered me the most. It’s importance was pretty much the size of a wooly mammoth. But now that it’s out of the way the rest will be a piece of cake.

Cheesecake…with raspberry swirl on top…*drools*

Point is, I feel GOOD!!!

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My Personal Wish List

Despite the latest post where I ranted about a shitty week I had I’m in a good place mentally and emotionally. I’m better than I’ve been in years. Instead of waisting away in what used to be my prison cell at the Cottages of Boone I’m in a place that I’m happy to call a home away from home and I’m enjoying the view of snowfall while listening to Utada Hikaru and filling up blank pages with whatever comes to mind.

I remember a year ago around this time how desperate I was for change, how badly I wanted things to be better than they were. Things are better for the most part, but I want more.

Some of the things I want I probably can’t reach yet until I’ve reached a higher level of self-love. But it’s all something to look forward to. Dreams aren’t as impossible to realize like they were before. The only real difference then and now is that I’m actually taking the steps required to attain those goals instead of waiting for the universe to work its magic into my life and lamenting on how powerless and hopeless I am to do anything.

I like my roommates and I like the friends I’ve managed to make in Boone, but I don’t feel like I can share everything with them. I can’t let them in completely. We see eye to eye on a lot of things, but there’s a lot of stuff I like that they can’t relate to.

I love video games, anime, movies, pro-wrestling, Japanese culture, writing, superhero shows like Garo, Kamen Rider, Ultraman, and Super Sentai.

Meanwhile what’s everyone else into? White hipster shit.

It doesn’t help that I live in a house full of people that are as white as can be. I come from a Venezuelan family so there’s shit I’m used to that I’ve seen all my life that makes everyone else go…

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It reminds me of the dumb looks I’d get from people at Walker Hall students. That’s where all the students majoring in communication, journalism, and some number crunching crap all congregate. It doesn’t matter what I’d say. I could be telling them my name, my favorite thing to eat, or what direction the bathroom is at and they look at me like this….

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Like some dumbass deer in headlights. I remember wanting to pluck out their eyes and squash them like grapes every time I’d get that look.

I broke my roommates coffee maker the other day. It was made of glass. It was close to where all the washed dishes were collected. I reached to grab something, it tipped over, and shattered in the sink. As soon as I told my roommate the first thing that came out of his mouth was…

“Oh no!! That cost $60!!”

Now it’s my turn to make a face like this…

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Because look at this shit!

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It’s big, it’s glass, and clearly its fragile as fuck. And he paid $60 for this tacky freak of nature? It looks like it belong in a mad scientist’s evil lair! Unless the coffee that thing makes cures cancer or bestows immortality to whoever drinks it I don’t see why anyone would want to pay good money for this.

Meanwhile I make my coffee with this…

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You know how much this thing cost me? It costs $12! No lie! It makes damn good coffee!! And does it look like it breaks easily? This little episode just made me go….

“Pfft!! White people…I swear….”

I put that on my Facebook and my female roommate put up the angry reaction emoji for it. Do I regret it? NOPE.

Getting back on point…here’s my wish list.

1. I want to be more comfortable around people so I can let them in.
2. I want to keep focusing on self-love. I want to get to the point where I can say, “I’d date me.”
3. I want to keep writing and ultimately make a real career out of it.
4. I want to graduate from App State.
5. I want to go back to enjoying cooking.
6. I want to go back to enjoying movies even if I don’t have someone to go to the theater with.
7. I want people that I can talk to about all the nerdy things I like so much.

I’ll work toward these goals just as I have worked with everything else.

Later days.

Creative Binging

My creative mojo has hit a nuclear spike these last couple of weeks. I’ve been drafting nonstop for several different projects. I’ve been recluse to my own fantasy universe that comes with it’s own calendar (and the days in a year add up to 765), a whole new religion, a hierarchy of higher powers, monsters, superheroes, brand name products, planets, cities, and so much more. Oh and of course there’s the characters, their family trees, their great ancestors, and their many enemies.

There is a lot of chatter and noise building up in my head. It’s no wonder why most writers became alcoholics.

I’ve been going at this so hard that I felt like my braincells were catching fire. The humidity in Boone doesn’t help much either. I’m all over the place. There’s no organization to what I’m doing at all. But after being stuck with an endless dry spell of ideas and writer’s block built from my own insecurities I’m not worried about organizing anything. I’m just having fun creating one thing after another. I’m learning to respect the process in a way that I didn’t before. And I’m changing somehow.

Before I kept telling myself that I couldn’t be a halfway decent writer. I kept feeding myself a bunch of lies.

1. “My ideas aren’t good enough”
2. “There’s always someone better than me”
3. “I’m never going to be good enough.”

And the older I got the more I started thinking about how every story idea I’ve ever had had been put on the back shelf and I’m thinking, “Tick tock. Time’s running out on all your dreams.”

The more I write the more I feel like all the lies are becoming undone. All the negative thinking is being tossed out like garbage, all the damage that was done because of it is being restored, it’s like my brain is getting rewired or a complete reboot. I haven’t felt anything like this happen in years. The writing is healing me, it’s helping me make sense of the world, and it’s helping me do away with all my anxiety and depression.

Maybe the writing done here for the last couple of months has helped me in more ways than one. I started posting here so that I could better deal with everything that was going on in my head after being silent for so long. Now that things are better should I stop writing here?

Don’t know where that thought came from. It just popped in there. It’s too soon to decide anything drastic. For now I just want to keep the creativity going. I want to see where it takes me.

Until then, later days.