Taming the Dragon

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Front page news WordPress readers!! I am a Hufflepuff!!!

My whacky writer’s brain has been both a blessing and a curse for me. I escaped into my imagination whenever things became too much to deal with. It wasn’t just a place where I hid myself, but also the only place where anything made sense. Things seemed less complicated.

Many things in my life serve as creative fuel for me. My depression and anxiety, memories of good and bad days, lessons I had to learn the hard way, people I knew and wish were closer to me, things I had to overcome, and all that I desire.

Like Jewels, my nephew and niece, the man from my dreams….whoever he might be….whatever he’s supposed to really look like….hence the photos of man candy below….

 

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My writer’s brain runs on auto-pilot though. During my sessions with my counselor I told him how I called my depression the Nightmare Syndrome, how everything turns into a monster that I always see with my mind’s eye, and how it seemed as though they were always destroying everything in the world of my imagining that crossed over into my reality.

We used a lot of fantasy analogy. It’s something I had kept to myself for the longest time. I was mostly embarrassed to admit to any of it. I try to keep things as realistic as possible when talking about everything, but in the end it’s my creativity that has helped me more than anything else. Before the Zoloft anyway.

The Babadook came up in my sessions. I’m sure anyone who has seen the movie can relate to the analogy that there’s a beast that lives with those who suffer from mental illness. In my case it wasn’t just the one monster. We also talked about my favorite video game, Persona¬†and I explained to him how the characters gain their power by overcoming and learning to accept their Shadow selves.

It was my counselor that brought up the analogy of a dragon being a personification of my depression. It coincided with the Shadows I mentioned. The creature can seem frightening and its easy to believe that its always out to get us. But sometimes it’s just misunderstood. Sometimes it can be used to draw strength from and propel us to move forward.

A few posts ago I did the Persona thing. I P4’d that bitch. I had come to terms with my depression and accepted it as a vital part of myself. It helped a lot. I felt my cognition take a huge shift. The rest is history. I’m doing good, but I’m not out of the woods yet.

My dragon and I are learning to co-exist. We’re not soaring the sky, but we’re not at each other’s throats either. Achieving peaceful co-existence with the dragon and unlearning everything that’s been hardwired into my brain is crucial to this recovery.

Within my mind exists my own universe where all my imaginative creations reside. I call it The Otherverse¬† and I’m putting everything into it to help me deal with things. It’s not about getting published and becoming the next J.K. Rowlings. It’s about healing and learning to truly live again, learn to better love myself, and to enrich the reality that I live in as well as my mental health.

The first step to any journey is to acknowledge the moment and who you are.

To pull some quotes from Dan Millman’s Peaceful Warrior…

  1. Where are you? I am here. What time is it? Now. What are you? I am this moment.
  2. There are no ordinary moments.
  3. There is no starting or stopping. There is only doing.
  4. A warrior does not give up what he loves. He finds the love in what he does.
  5. I call myself a Peaceful Warrior because the battles I fight come from within.

Have a nice day everyone.

Here I come World!!!

P.S. I consider myself a “Hufflepuff Warrior”.

 

 

 

 

 

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Feeling Stuck

So I’m doing that thing that a lot of writers love doing and it’s something that I do best. Having a coffee date with myself. I have work that needs to be done before spring break hits, but I wanted to treat myself a little bit before I jump into anything.

The forecast read that it would be cloudy and rainy, but it’s the total opposite. So I didn’t want to stay locked up in my attic bedroom. Not even for more wrestling creations.

Speaking of…

I’ve got nice some faces made. But only their faces. I don’t have much else at the moment other than the names I gave them.

Things have been on the hectic side for me for the last couple of days. I’m thankful that I have a session scheduled for Monday morning. I’m pretty sure I have more than enough to talk about for a 50 minute session.

I’m having a bit of a moment though. I’ve talked about how there’s no one that can keep up with me. I talked about how I’m willing to overcome challenges on my own. Then I have realizations where I’m not alone in the depressing sense. But there’s not a lot of people in my life that can help me with things like with my creations.

I’m brimming with ideas. That’s not the problem. It’s that there’s so much that I want to do and I’m only one person. It doesn’t help that I’m the oldest among my limited social circle of friends. So there’s not a whole lot I can connect with when it comes to my creations when I draw inspiration from something that predates their existence. Oh but then there are the friends who are closest to my age and over. They’re not capable of helping because for a completely different list of reasons.

1) “I’m not creative enough.”
2) “I’m too old to fantasize stories like that.”
3) “I don’t think the way you do, man.”
4) “I’m too busy!”

And when I find people who are willing to help they overdo it. These sorts of partnerships don’t last long. When I think about stuff like this I think, “Urgh!! I just can’t win!!”

I had this thought yesterday when I got a call from my mom. She called past 9 am. That struck me odd because normally she waits at night time to give me a ring and she had already called to wish me a happy birthday on Wednesday.

She knows about the stuff I’ve been writing. More specifically my latest posts. My mom is not internet savvy. She doesn’t even know that I blog. In fact I’m fairly certain that if you mentioned the word “blog” then her response would be, “Que eso”. So I can easily wager a guess as to how she found out about it.

She said, “Don’t put stuff like that on the internet!”

I’m explaining to her that I’m doing what works for me. Writing about this stuff helps me. I’m not doing this for attention or to gain followers. I’m not the same as those malignant narcissists who post a selfie five times a day on Instagram.

When she said that to me though it flipped a switch in my brain. I went into defense mode naturally. And I was upset. Like “How dare she tell me what I should or should not do?” I’m not keeping secrets from her. I told her about how I felt about things during the winter break. I told her that I was gonna go back into counseling.

Then she says, “Don’t be upset! I’m just worried!”

I know she worries. I know she wasn’t trying to make me feel bad about anything. But how else can I explain myself to her? I’m doing something that works for me and I can do it without her blessing, much less her commentary. The same is true for everyone else.

Weeks ago while I was washing the dishes and I had my headphones on another of my roommates tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Stop ignoring us. You’re making people feel uncomfortable.”

All I’m doing is minding my own business and dealing with stuff in the best way I know how. How the hell is that making people uncomfortable? So what if my methods aren’t ideal? So what if I’m disconnecting from people? So what if I would rather blast my eardrums with heavy metal instead of having to listen to every vapid, insipid, stupid thing that passes through someone else’s mind? Some people’s thoughts and opinions are not as interesting as they like to think they are. I’m focusing on myself and my own problems. If someone is offended because I’m the one person that refuses to make them the center of the universe for even a minute then it sucks being them. If that’s all it takes to get under someone’s skin then life is going to kick their ass to the moon and back.

And yet it’s me who has to take a set at the counselor’s sofa. The Universe is quite the comedian.

My methods might not be ideal, but anything beats rotting away like bad meat and being treated like some doormat. It’s even better that I’m not lashing out. It’s one of the few ways that I have control over things. Besides I’m so tired of trying to be social with everyone. I feel like that was just an act that I putting on. And I’m sick of it.

I’m totally ranting right now. I’m gonna go back to enjoying my personal day. I’m thinking now’s a good time to eat some ramen!

Later!

Gathering Power

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It’s during times like these when your worst enemy is yourself that you have to become your own hero. I’m digging down deep and gathering power from all the things that bring light into my world, combining them with my fertile writer’s brain, and silencing my inner demons, one at a time through the artistic arrangement of words filling up page space. All these things put together make the greatest power and weapon that I possess against my Nightmares.

I draw my power from…
-My Mom
-My Cousins
-My Cousins’ kids.
-Remembering what it took to get to this point.
-Writing
-Fleetwood Mac
-The Power Rangers
-The Ghostbusters
-The WWE
-Memories of Jewels, my favorite dog.
-Persona
-Pokemon
-Digimon
-Cooking
-Damn good coffee
-Speaking different languages.
-Photography
-The use of my imagination.
-The colors black, purple, green, and blue.
-Knowing that I’m worthy of love.
-Knowing that I do deserve good things.
-Checking my pulse.
-Every breath I take.
-Every nerve and synapse in my brain that explodes with imaginative power.

My current situation is not my final destination. That’s why I’m going to overcome all of this and decide my own fate.

Now then…it’s Morphin’ Time!!

Permanence

When I was a kid I was forced to move around a lot. I was born in Columbus, Ohio but when I finished the 2nd grade my family and I moved to Illinois. It’s been so long that I barely remember the name of the place I lived in. I was only there until I finished the 3rd grade. I think the name of the town was Coal Valley. It was close to Moline. That much I can remember.

Then we moved down to the Carolinas where I’ve been living since. First it was Georgetown, South Carolina. Easily the smallest, most rinky dink town I’ve lived in. More so than Boone believe it or not. When I was getting ready to start the 6th grade we moved to a North Carolina town. The only thing I remember about this particular period of my life was this tiny crap shack apartment I had to live in and that I was enrolled in school for only a month. I can’t remember the town’s name, just that it had “Green” in it.

Once that month passed my parents secured their old jobs back in Georgetown where we returned. Mercifully our house hadn’t been sold. When 1999 hit and I was finishing up 6th grade we moved again to North Carolina. This time, it was Charlotte.

I haven’t thought about this in forever. I buried these memories a long time ago just like everything else. The times between each move were always filled with unrest. When it had been confirmed that my Dad had gotten the job in Illinois I remember seeing my Mom cry in the home office that used to be my bedroom. She didn’t want the move to happen. And she hated the house we lived in during Illinois.

I hated leaving every home. I hated having to separate from the few friends I had made. I hated having to start over from scratch all over again. I hated every big change that kept happening in between moves.

There are a few things that stayed consistent in my life during all this. The memories are slowly coming back to me.

I remember I had this pillow that I loved. There was nothing special about it. I just really liked it. I loved snuggling with it, clutching it tight like it was a teddy bear. I had that pillow with me through all my moves. I had it from the time I was in 2nd grade and I didn’t let it go until I was almost 16 years old. I didn’t care how torn up or gross looking it was. It didn’t just provide comfort but it was one of the few things that stayed with me through all 4 states. Recently I’ve noticed that I’ve been seeking comfort with the pillows I have now. Almost like I’ve regressed.

Then there were my childhood heroes; the Ghostbusters and the Power Rangers. I liked Batman and the X-Men too, but I didn’t obsess over them. I collected all sorts of toys, I recorded episodes and watched them obsessively. I even had my own story ideas based on Ghostbusters and Power Rangers that my Georgetown friends and I used to act out. We role-played as our own characters and added in all kinds of stuff. We probably crossed over our Power Rangers with Dragon Ball Z and Batman at some point. Even after moving to Charlotte I kept acting things out in a one-man show type of style. Whenever my parents or brother overheard me or walked in on me you can imagine it was quite awkward. But I didn’t let that stop me. At some point I stopped with the role-plays and I put away my toys, yet I never got around to completely growing out of things.

The move to Charlotte was the worst for me. I had just turned 14, started 7th grade, and was immediately labeled a “fucking faggot” by everyone before I even had a chance to wrap my mind around it. I knew I was different from others before then, but I didn’t place a word on it until I entered Sun Valley Middle. Those kids weren’t just monsters, but they were like prototypes to the jaded, cynical adults that I would grow to hate and never wanted to become.

At that point I kept seeking refuge in the things that gave me the most comfort and I found other interests that did the same thing. That’s when I seriously got into anime and video games. While everyone was busy reading Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings I was saving the worlds of Final Fantasy 8, The Legend of Dragoon, and Brave Fencer Musashi. The only pro-LGBT things I was watching on television back then was Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Sailor Moon. If I were a lesbian I’d probably would’ve been more empowered, but I still enjoyed watching them. By this point I had pretty much cemented my status as a complete nerd.

I had a lot of story ideas in my head. I would imagine characters as if they were my real friends because they weren’t as vile and toxic as the people I knew in my real life. I did the best I could to keep it all contained within myself. I didn’t wanted to share with anyone. Whenever I did share with someone I’d soon come to regret it. So by not sharing anything I thought I was keeping those characters safe from outside interference and the toxicity that came with it.

The only friend I still have from this distant past is Ellison. We met when I was in 4th grade. Our personalities are like night and day. I know I drove him and his brothers crazy. But he still stayed my friend, we still had great sleepovers, and we had a lot of good laughs. A lot of them at my own expense. I lost contact with him for years, but got back in touch with him through the magic of social media. Ellison must’ve been a saint or a monk in a past life because how else would anyone put up with me? He’s more of a brother than my own blood.

Then I grew up. Something I’m beginning to think was a terrible life decision. Seriously…worst advice I ever followed….

I think a huge reason why I am the way I am is because of all the moving. Whenever someone asks me what my big plans are my usual response is, “Nothing really. Just gonna chill at home.”

Or someone, family or friend, suggested going out I’d shut them down, “No! I don’t feel like it!”

When it was time to move away I didn’t have a say in any of it. When Ellison and his family moved away to Maryland I was left behind. Whenever my Dad would always yell at me I always felt powerless in the same way I did when I roamed the hallways of Sun Valley and people would give me those disdainful looks. When my parents fought there was nothing I could do except escape into my own world where everything made more sense.

That’s why I decided for myself…

“I never want to go anywhere or do anything unless it’s under my own terms. No one will decide anything for me anymore.”

“If being an adult means giving up all these things or always being sad and angry about something then I don’t want grow up!”

It might be immature to think that things should stay the same, to deny changes that were inevitable to happen, but I need consistency in my life. I crave for it. What I speak of isn’t a pillow, a superhero, or any of my interests, but something else.

-I need a place of my own to call home.
-I want friends in my real life that aren’t going to disappear on me.
-I want a fairy tale romance. Even if it’s vanilla in other people’s eyes.
-I want to live life under my own terms. Where I’m happy and that’s all that matters.

Now I’m feeling like I’m off the tangent. Cue exit.

See ya.

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!

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.

No More “Matt Damon”ing through Life

As of now I am free from this summer semester. I finished my final exam for photojournalism which was only 12 questions of matching terms, short answers, and fill in the blanks whereas the review sheet made it look like it was going to be 12 pages worth of shit. I was like, “Ok that was easy….”

Then I pay my tuition for the fall. Holy hell! I hope to God my refund kicks in faster than this private loan did. Speaking of, the loan check finally made it to my Mom. But she can’t do shit about it until I get back home because apparently I have to sign it first. Meanwhile I have -$149.50 in my account. Motherfucker what?!!

I can’t even buy pizza or a cup of coffee with that. Oh and I have little to no food at right now. Once again I’m in that Matt Damon situation, “I got to science the hell out of this shit!”

So I call my Mom and tell her whats up. Mostly to tell her that I need cash now! But also to let her know that I’m done with classes and I’m happy with my new home. I have farm animals that live next door to me. Cows, goats, donkeys!! The goats even stumbled into our front yard and starting eating up the grass. I’m like, “Welp….there’s our lawn maintenance right there!”

I dropped a class that was in my schedule in favor of something better. I got a full schedule that’s worth 12 credit hours, but I put myself on the waiting list for this one class that’s required for my degree. I hope to get into it so I can drop one class that I added as just a filler. Other than that, it’s a nice looking schedule. Tuesdays and Thursdays are going to be my light days and I’ll only have to go to one class on Fridays so that’s almost a free day!

My financial aid is finally back to normal! No obstructions whatsoever! Those guys at the main office had me doing all sorts of circus acts just to get back on their good side! I feel like I did everything except take part of an Pagan orgy just to get that cash to payback my Mom.

Finally I feel like I’m crashing down completely. I’m finally feeling full blown exhaustion from these last three months. I had to power through this shit and act like it wasn’t phasing me one bit. Now is the part where I fall to my bed and feel like dying. Metaphorically, not suicidal.

I miraculously managed to scrounge up what food I did have left over and make some udon noodle soup. Which ended up tasting kinda bland. Not my best work. My defense I had no soy sauce and no money to get some. Oh and I managed to burn my hands with the soup being scalding hot. I was so hungry, I rushed to get the bowl to the table to eat, and the next thing I know I feel the soup splash into my hands. I rushed over to the sink and washed them under cold water. I filled up this large bowl with ice water and kept my left hand plunged in it while eating my bland noodle soup.

The money my Mom deposited doesn’t kick in until tomorrow morning. Who the fuck makes up these stupid processes? Money should be made available ASAP. I’m ranting. Clearly I’m ranting.

Anyone whose read one of my previous posts, “Being Real” will get this reference. The last few days I felt familiar knots being tied up in my stomach and sense of dread hanging over me. I felt like I was getting ready to deal with my personal Babadook again. Remember that? I panicked because I was afraid to open up some emails, go online to pay my tuition, or do anything else that any normal person is able to do without any kind of problems? That’s what was going on in my mind. It didn’t help that I was dealing with one big assignment after another until recently. I had it in my mind that I missed the tuition deadline like I did before even though I have been keeping up with my student email this entire summer. Universities have to deliver a warning that says “Your classes are gonna get dropped if you don’t pay up now.” I didn’t see anything like that in my inbox, but I still felt the dread.

The Babadook is speaking to me, feeding me more distorted lies…

“It’s over…”
“You’ve lost…”
“It was all for nothing…”

In my mind I balled up both my fists and punched the shit out of that son of a bitch and watched him fall down hard like a tower of bricks. Then I went on and did my thing, knocked down every thing that blows my anxieties out of control.

Final exam. Done.
Call up Mommy for money. Done
Return my one textbook. Done
Tuition payment. Done.
Schedule change. Done
Add/wait list another class. Done.
Contact a soul sucking professor that I’m not crazy about so I can make up for bombing her class. Done.

If I could, I’d be eating the biggest slices of pepperoni, mushrooms, black olives, and banana peppers right now. Then chase them down with beer. I still think beer tastes like bottled up piss but it still gets the job done. Makes me chill the fuck out. Until I’m at a point where I can stop pinching pennies I have to hope that my noodle soup keeps me full for the night. Otherwise….I got a box of Cheeze-Its that are somewhat stale that I can down.

I feel like this was the summer that I rocked the cliche of a starving artist and college student. It’s not like I embraced it by choice though.

I go back to my hometown on Thursday. Tomorrow I want to have one day of peace to myself before going back, dealing with parents and cousins that ask one too many questions, a father who sucks the life out of the room and gets pissed off drinking water, and being surrounded by a bunch of kids who are obsessed with bunnies, Skylanders, and fidget spinners. By the way I fucking hate those things. That shit doesn’t kill anxiety. That’s what nutella is for!!

Oooo Nutella…..*finds a jar and digs in*

While I’m at home though I’m gonna chill and finally take the time to enjoy the things that make me fucking happy.

1. Spending time with my cousins and their kids.
2. Playful bickering with my Mom
3. Watching WWE events. I waited a VERY long time for NXT Takeover Brooklyn and that Mae Young Classic goddamnit!!
4. Binge watching Once Upon a Time. I’m working on a story that involves fairy tales for inspiration. So I’m marathoning the show and calling it research. When in reality I’m oogling Captain Hook. Colin O’Donoghue….*fans himself*
5. Going to G Mart. I’ve been craving the Korean food there for weeks. I want bibimbap, gimbap, bulgogi, japchae, all of it!!
6. I want to sit down and keep writing the things I love writing about nonstop without having anything hang over my head for the next two weeks.
7. Get back into gaming. Preferably get into a title that’s not Persona 5.
8. Eat food that I didn’t buy with my own money because parents can’t do shit to stop me so I’m gonna take advantage of it because I’m sick of ‘Matt Damon”ing my way through life!! No!! I want to Homer Simpson through the buffet lines! Shamelessly stuff my face like Pam Poovey! And make food that’s so good that it drives a person into a fevered pitch of uncontrollable ecstasy that’s so intense that their clothes will explode like in Shokugeki no Soma!!! And that’s what will get me a spot on Chef’s Table….

Good times are about to be had. Now is a good time to sign off. I just finished the last of that nutella. Now after all that food talk I’m probably gonna go ahead and finish off those Cheese Its.

Later days