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Author: Happy

  • I FEEL BETTER ALREADY

    It’s strange what a day of sleep can do. Not a literal day. I only got three hours. But I am trying to say that a moment of rest can really refresh your mind, you know? It’s a little break from reality, a little step back so you can breathe and enjoy the bigger picture at an arm’s length.

    I always seek out two individuals when my heart feels wrought with grief, and that’s my mom and the Most High. For a while, I was concerned that I didn’t deserve to seek solace in Him since my mood had been so down, and because I was struggling to thank Him for what I already had, I didn’t deserve to turn around and ask for anything else.

    But understand that kind of mentality is all in my head, and that’s not really the way things are supposed to work out. You can seek comfort in the Most High both when you’re feeling up and down. To thank Him for your breath. To talk about your day. Never feel as if there’s nothing you can’t go to Him for.

    And really, all it took was one turn of a day. I’d been in that slump for a while now, but I think putting it all down on paper really helped me breath. My heart still clenches in mourning, though, even though I’m sad for something I’ve never had.

  • MY ACHING HEART

    I’ve been in a romantical mood as of late. I’m not quite sure where it came from, or why it came on so strongly, but it’s there and threatening to beat all my walls down.

    I think it started the other day, when my roommates and I somehow got on the topic of wedding rings, and suddenly we’re all scrolling through our phones and showing each other engagement rings we find pretty. I later kept that tab open to fantasize about it a little longer.

    Or maybe it’s the sudden uptick of couples on campus. I see people paired off in sets of two everywhere I go. I think it’s the spring weather. A lot of the time, I’ve come to find, that contributes to instances of a relationship. Holding hands. Leaning in close. Giggling and laughter. Even most of my friends have paired off.

    I’ve felt increasingly lonely lately. Usually I’m content with being alone, mostly because I’m used to it, but there’s been a disturbance in me recently that I can’t quite put my finger on.

    I think it’s because lately I’ve been in a lot of situations where having someone there for moral support would make all the difference. It’s not the same when my mom is 1000 miles away, and because I’ve shirked back from most of my regular interactions, I feel like I don’t deserve to burden my friends. I just wish I had real life reassurance, the kind I can see in your eyes.

    It doesn’t help that the vast majority of my social interactions, as of late, have taken place behind a screen, where I try to fill the void of shallow acquaintances with even shallower substitutes. Worse yet, it’s so nonspecific, yet all-consuming, that it won’t go away.

    I thought I’d be able to rid of the feeling as I normally do, and push past it back to contentedness, but I’d be lying if I said the feeling wasn’t different this time. I haven’t really felt this way since 2019, where I’d be wondering after school to myself if this were all life was going to be for me. And now it’s come back to greet me like a boulder before a landslide.

    Maybe it’s also because nothing seems to be going right lately. Between every mounting obstacle and blow to my self-esteem, I’ve gotten to the point where ignoring that problem feels like willing, blissful ignorance. I know I’ve made jokes about this before, especially most recently in my last blog post, but I oftentimes thrive on the delusions I can conjure up in my mind. I love seeking solace in the one place things will go alright for me. It takes the edge off of a long day, like the way an alcoholic will seek comfort from the bottom of a glass, or a chain smoker to a pack of cigarettes.

    I’m never in any circumstances talking about my online friends when I say this, but I really don’t have any meaningful relationships in my waking life. All of my dearest companions are people I’ve never physically met before, but it’s a genuine friendship, tried and true; people I’ve grown up with for years. I love them all so much, so dearly, and my only complaint is I wish I had the joy of seeing them everyday in person. People who I enjoy being around, and who equally enjoy me, not just for the sake of convenience.

    Many people have echoed my sentiments, just as many will after me, but I struggle with making meaningful friends. Perhaps it’s because I’ve highlighted myself as a “social floater”- I get along with everyone, so there was never a real need to box myself in with one specific group or ideology, because I could come and go as I please.  I make people feel good about themselves. And I like making people feel good about themselves. It’s what I do best. And because of the convenience I provide as an easy friendship- a listening ear in times of distress, a shoulder to cry on, an unjudgmental stare- there is no need to reciprocate such actions with me, because I will most likely never open up in the first place, not unless prompted, for fear of sounding self-centered, and that’s exactly how you end up with friendships where you are seen as dependable and reliable, without really being all there.

    When I was younger, I had problems with opening up to people because I struggled to connect with age-appropriate problems plaguing my peers. The pendulum of emotional maturity swings both ways, and that was one of its downsides. And it doesn’t help that I often times naturally shoe-boxed myself into being the support friend- a position I don’t mind with regular people, but sometimes I’d always be paired up with someone who could never stop talking about how awful their life was, how bad they felt, and the usual draining motifs these archetypes of people bring with themselves, etc. I attract exhausting people, sometimes, because I’d feel bad for them being shunned.

    But let it not be thought that I’m blaming anyone else for my problems, no. I’d always figured this was a no-fault situation, something that can’t be helped from either side. I can’t fault my peers for not relating to me, the same way it’d be unfair for it vice-versa. Everyone is at different places in their lives, and at no point does being in similar age groups guarantee you will be in similar situations. Everyone moves at a different pace, and everyone will be in a different place.

    As you can see, that feeling hasn’t been anything new. I think I just did better at stuffing it down last time. And, truthfully, I was happy being alone, but I think this is the first time I’ve ever felt dreadfully lonely. I’ve always been able to keep my own company, but I think what I truly long for is companionship and understanding. I’ve often feared that I’m far too boyish in personality for any man to be attracted to me on anything other than a superficial level, because I have yet to have that experience happen romantically. My friends love me, and I love my friends, and they always tell me how great I am, and really it’s my own fault that I feel disconnected from them; it’s on me. But when it comes to romance, I think I will be less likely to succeed.

    I used to primarily crave for a best friend, for a deep understanding and loyal companionship that runs deeper than just sexual attraction, but is endearing and enduring love, but I’ve found myself changing gears slightly. I’d really love to feel love, and to be in love, and to know what it’s like to be desired. Alas, I’ve yet to have that feeling, because I’ve never had anyone like me for who I am.

    Which is a darn shame too, because I think I would make a lovely partner. I’ve had guys attracted to me before, but it’s only on days where I advertise myself as ideal with the way I dress, because men are visual creatures, after all, and they oftentimes can’t see past what I wear before realizing that, huh, she’s kind of attractive after all. I would love to know what it feels like to be loved for who you are. I’ve never had a guy like me. Even among the guys I’ve dated. Physical attraction is not the same as appreciation of character.

    So, just like every other person my age, oftentimes I’ve fantasized what that must feel like. I’m glad I have a point of reference in the forms of other people, but I still long to know what it feels like romantically. To have someone who loves you, every part of you, and want to spend the rest of their days with you. A man compassionate, kind, and just as enthusiastic as me. I’ve curled around my heart-shaped pillow every night just to dream about it and ponder what it’s like. For several days I’ve listened to nothing but romance songs. I’ve even started reading my horoscope to see if I’d be lucky in love.

    Maybe I should get to bed before the thought consumes me again. It’s already been on my mind for several days at a time, so I’d be lying to myself if I expected it to go away, but at least it’s one of those subjects I can fill the void with in fantasy and dreams to not feel so bad about everything else.

    But beyond that, I think what I desire most are meaningful relationships. This post may convey the idea that I struggle with talking to people, but not at all. For the longest time, I was under the impression that I was an extrovert simply because socializing came naturally for me. I love people, I really do, and I love listening to them and hearing what they have to say and where they come from. I love their little quirks and fashion choices and finding out what they think about their hair. I love finding out what we have in common and where we differ, and the challenge of finding the perfect way to socialize with the other party is highly appealing to me.

    But lately it feels like I’ve lost my edge. I’ve become so isolated that I almost feel like I’ve forgotten how to talk with people, in a way. And lately, it’s not enough to simply get along with them. That part comes easy. What I’m looking for is satisfaction.

    I love interacting with strangers because I can have a fulfilling social interaction without the expectation of a deeper relationship; both of us enter and exit the conversation with the knowledge that we will not leave as friends.

    But my regular interactions, with the familiar faces I see every day, those are the ones that bother me. They consist of someone who I dread talking to, who I try to avoid, often times because they have no listening skills, or are prone to interrupting, or simply are hard to carry a conversation with. About 90% of my day-to-day social interactions consist of some form of this, where it lacks all the things that send me further into a depressive spiral. And when my options consist of talking to someone who will take effort for an unfulfilling interaction, or not talking at all, then why wouldn’t I choose the latter? Talking is the easy part. Understanding is what I’m looking for. I do wish I had someone to care, and someone who wants me, genuinely, around.

    And the irony is that I do have someone like that. My mom, of course. I love her so much, you wouldn’t believe, and I think that’s because her mere presence has spoiled me into knowing what a healthy conversation should be. We listen, we contribute, we care. And now everything else after that feels so bland, so surface-level and unfulfilling. It’s not interactions I’m looking for, it’s meaningful interactions. And it’s more noticeable still that, when I look back on my life and my catalogue of friends, I have never gotten to experience that with a peer for more than a brief moment. That kind of lifestyle just isn’t sustainable. And now it’s starting to take its toll.

    Between all my decisions falling apart at the seams, and a lack of joyous hobbies to take part in lately, my heart is a little heavy. I’ll distract myself with something for just long enough that the weight of reality comes crashing back down into me twice as hard. There’s no distraction in my hobbies lately, since I have trouble connecting with that. It’s why I came to write here, where I have a vague semblance of cohesively expressing how I feel with the understanding that I don’t have to worry about someone caring- I can yell into the void of the world wide web as much as I want, and it mostly all flies under the radar. Even reading and going outside just make me feel foggy. It’s like this issue is weighing on me so heavily that there is really little else that can take my mind off of it, because I only end up feeling worse once I remember where I am in life. 21-years-old and a socially unfortunate loser. The thought of it almost makes me want to take up drinking.

    Even worse, physically it’s started to take its toll on me. Loneliness can kill you, you know. I can already feel it squeeze my heart in my chest, feel it turn my stomach. It could send me to an early grave. And worse yet, there’d be nothing I can do about it. I’ll just be a victim of circumstance.

    But I think it’s fine that it’s happened like that. Everyone needs something to struggle with, and this one will be mine. I’m glad my heart doesn’t fill with envy when I see groups of friends or people in love strolling by, because I would love to experience the thrill of belonging just for one time, one day.

  • THE MALADAPTIVE DAYDREAM

    Ever wonder where I got my username from? I used to be seriously stuck in my head as a kid. It’s no wonder why I grew up to be a writer, having such a vivid imagination and all.

    I haven’t really maladaptively daydreamed in years. It’s more like excessive now, where it doesn’t really interrupt my day-to-day aspects of living. I’ve always been fairly high-functioning in whatever I do, so even if it were interruptive, it’d be hard to tell.

    But lately, I don’t know. It’s becoming more appealing again. I haven’t had a relapse before, because I’d tend to get stuck not having “satisfying” enough daydreams, which would be frustrating in the moment, but worked out to my benefit because I wouldn’t get that shot of dopamine that would keep me running back to the fantasies inside my head.

    I think it’s because I’ve given myself less external stimuli, as well. I’m trying out something new lately where I don’t watch or listen to or consume anything while I work, just so I can let the thoughts roll off onto the page. So far it’s been really nice, I think I really like this workflow, but I think that part of my brain that isn’t distracted now has a lot of time to think. And when I think, I tend to wander.

    Maybe that’s the downside of having an imagination, after all. I can do it for hours again, where I start disconnecting from the world in class because all it takes is one second to zone out before it sucks you back in again. It probably doesn’t help that I’m taking a writing class this quarter, where we’re encouraged to stimulate our imaginations to make them come to life. Even now this article is nonsensical, because I keep zooming in and out of focus, like a camera lens looking for a subject.

  • MOVIE DISCUSSION: HEREDITARY (2018)

    So, I’ve decided to ditch my usual movie post intro that includes the movie details, my rating, blah blah blah…I found that I get so lazy to go back and copy it from my older drafts that I’ve been putting off writing these posts! (I still got an entire unpublished review of ‘X’ to get up here…)

    It’s crazy, too, because I was originally going to do this whole structured post with highlighted sections, and scene discussions, and images, but then I was like, “Huh…I don’t think the structured life is for me.” This isn’t my job, this blog is for FUN! (Although I still might do the screenshots…)

    Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, so I finally got around to watching Hereditary (2018) tonight. I didn’t really play on watching it, but since I’d have my hands in my hair for the foreseeable next few hours, I figured I’d pop something in that I had collecting dust on my watchlist forever.

    Thus, Hereditary was chosen! It was my first thought, actually. I don’t know why, but I’ve been in the mood to get scared lately. It was an urge enough that made me bust out my Steam catalogue and consider booting up Outlast (not that I actually did; I ended up playing The Stanley Parable and an actual horror indie title), but it’s an itch I’ve been looking to scratch lately. And I’ve heard many-a-great thing about Hereditary: it’s distressing, it’s unnerving, it’s disturbing- – and ah, sounds just perfect for me!

    So I sat down in my dorm’s living room at ten at night, turned my headphones up real (tolerably) loud, and settled in the dark for the perfect horror movie watching atmosphere, nothing less than what such a glorious film deserves.

    And you know: it actually was! I was really worried my expectations would’ve made me overhyped and disappointed in the final product, but I think it ended up working because the film summary is drastically different than what you get.

    Actually, that’s really- and only- my one complaint with the film: I actually expected the revelation with the grandmother and her occult status to be something that gradually unfolds throughout the film. It comes up for 20-30 minutes at the start of the film, and 30 minutes at the end. The inside of the movie, all that middle part, is just blank. Other than Joan, the lady Annie meets at the grief counseling group session, you don’t really hear much of anything involving the mystery until the very end, which strangely works for this film. But I think some of that middle run-time should’ve been used on exploring something!

    It was also weird that I felt distressed from this film in a third-person perspective sort of way. Honestly, I think Hereditary confirmed my fear that I’ve been desensitized to horror as a whole, which is a little sad, but the appreciation of it is still there.

    There’s a lot of admiration for the story and the dedication it had to distressing the hell out of the audience. I love that it tried to make every aspect of this film as disturbing as possible. Everything from the tongue clicking, to the sleepwalking sequences, to the actual gory deaths. Props on the team, I loved it! I made me wish I could still feel scared to really appreciate it!

    Plus, it gives a lot of time for that feeling to build, too. Hereditary is slow-burn central, so I would not recommend this for anyone who wants everything to happen now! Often I would accidentally move my mouse and be surprised that there was still so much runtime left to the film, but I’ll leave you to figure out whether that’s good or bad.

    It was also lots of fun to dissect this movie as it was playing out in real-time. I think I responded positively to the subconscious foreshadowing at the start of the film, because I guessed pretty early on that the son or the mother were probably gonna be the last ones standing (specifically the son, since you can’t pass on a bloodline if all the fucking kids die!).

    Speaking of kids dying, I was actually SO surprised the daughter died so early on? Legitimately don’t know what I was expecting there, LOL. I’d heard about the film lifting the real life death involving those two friends, but never really knew the context behind it, or even when it would happen. I’d known about the case already, so I didn’t get the same impact first-time audience members would’ve had watching this film, darn.

    The scene leading up to it was interesting, though. Charlie wearing that dingy ass orange hoodie everywhere was hilarious, I know it probably smelled awful. The weed pick-up line Peter used on that girl had me cringing in shame in my seat, even more so when it worked.

    And Peter (who didn’t look like his name should be Peter), surprisingly, wasn’t as much of a dick as he could’ve been to her. I thought it was quite sweet that he carried Charlie to the car as she was having that allergic reaction.

    Speaking of which…why the fuck didn’t the parents have her carry that Epi-pen around?? Isn’t that the point of the pen?! Don’t keep it locked in a dresser at home! It’s not for decoration! That accident in the car could’ve all been avoided if you guys gave her a little purse or something, I don’t know.

    And I felt really bad for Peter, because the moment that accident happened I knew we were gonna have some Michael Afton levels of coping, especially once that dinner table scene arrived.

    Honestly, the moment the forks and knives started scrapping against the plates, I knew it’d be some tension incoming. And tense it was. You could tell Annie was going to pop off from a mile away, especially after that scoff, and holy shit, did she! She made it clear that she hated her son for the way he didn’t take any responsibility or apologize for the way he way he ended up killing Charlie…which is a little rich from her, because earlier she tried to excuse herself from nearly setting her kids on fire because she was sleepwalking. Looks like it runs in the family, right?

    Speaking of which, all the occult stuff was…something else! My initial thought, when Charlie said her grandma wanted her to be a boy, made me think that she wanted Charlie to be a boy so the curse didn’t get passed down…but that’s back when I thought granny was a victim, not a perpetrator! Honestly, I think that’s why the cult shit took me so off-guard: with the way the summary framed it, it sounded like the grandmother was trying to get away from it! Or maybe that was just my little pea brain filling in the gaps…

    I also started thinking that the “curse” picked off loved ones surrounding the person until it moved down in the host line. We saw at the beginning there was the obituary (which, was a pretty dope way to open a film. May have to steal that at some time), and again when Annie was describing the deaths of her father and brother. It legitimately made me think whatever demon it was that followed them hated Y chromosomes with a passion and picked them off steadily until the next lady in the family got passed the curse baton. Needless to say, I was off the fuckin’ mark!

    Say it with me, everyone: STOP MESSING WITH SPIRITS AND SHIT. I felt UBER bad for the dad and Peter after Annie woke them up that night to do that séance shit. Which is insane because, not even a scene ago, you were freaking the hell out too! And now you got your husband and son doing it?? Had ole boy sobbing into his dad’s chest like a child. And understandably so! Inviting all kinds of spirits and shit into this household…now everyone’s dead! Are you happy yet?!

    Joan as a whole was interesting. Once they mentioned the doormats I guessed pretty quickly that she knew the mom. Her introduction was hilarious, though. I feel bad for laughing when she said point-blank, “My son died.” Like WOWIE woman! And now I’m wondering if Joan made that thing about her son and grandson the hell up?! She probably did. I’m gonna have to go back and rewatch the counseling scene to see if she’s there.

    Another thing: how the hell did they mispronounce the name of Paimon? Where the fuck did the ‘y’ come from, anyway? Admittedly, I only knew the correct pronunciation thanks to its inclusion in Amanda the Adventurer, but you think someone on set would’ve like, I don’t know, gone to search it up to make sure they’re doing things right? Although I understand it, to some degree. You do or say something for so long that you don’t even doubt it’s the right way…

    I do love the sleepwalking scene, though. Especially with the double inversion of it being a dream. That was pretty fucked that she told her kid she didn’t want him- for that, I was exponentially more thankful it was a dream! And the fact that they were suddenly covered in paint thinner at the end made it SO much cooler (er, warmer, if someone happens to strike a match).

    Speaking of burning, I love how the dad was just…there. Honestly, before he got blazed to the high heavens himself, I felt really bad for the chap, because he didn’t really play a super huge role in the film. Which, it’s understandable. This is about the maternal side of the family and her offspring, but buddy was really just paper on the wall.

    I also kept forgetting they had a dog?? He just kind of popped in here and there that he was gone for juuuuust long enough to make me forget he existed, LOL.

    And then there’s Peter. I was actually surprised he got as much screen time as he did! He was someone else I felt really bad for. You know no amount of therapy in the world would ever get him right even if he did survive. And you know his behavior after his sister’s crash probably got him outcast to hell, as evidenced by him sitting alone at lunch before Crazy Joan starts yelling at him from across the road.

    Honestly, after that outburst he had in class, it’s probably for the best his body got hijacked by Paimon or whatever the fuck. The contortions and the bones cracking like that, by the way? Sick as hell. I loved that scene. After the first head bang, though, kid’s reputation was in the trash. I felt really bad for him once he started screaming and crying, though. You know he was scared shitless over what was happening, and worse yet, there’s really nothing more he could’ve done.

    And then it just gets worse for him. He basically becomes the last guy standing after a full movie of being traumatized by inadvertently causing his sister’s death and then figuring out a demon’s after his family. I felt super bad for him once he started crying in the attic for his mom. I didn’t blame him at all for taking a running-dive out that window.

    I love how the film started and ended on a diorama, from Peter’s bedroom to the shot in the treehouse. It also had no business ending with that cheery ass music lol.

    Now, as far as the overall movie goes, I liked it! Movie got exponentially more fucked as it continued, which I liked. The cinematography and lighting were really cool, made me take nothing but screenshots throughout the course of the film. I might even litter some of them throughout this post, just to break up the monotony of words a bit. (Plus, I mean, they were pretty cool. Who doesn’t want to see cool frames?)

    Even the soundtrack was a treat, but the constant “house party” beat for that specific one left me so fucking confused. I live on a college campus; I thought my neighbors were having a part or some shit, LOL.

    God also bless my school for giving us Kanopy for free, which basically has A24’s entire catalogue, so I’ll be checking some of their other stuff out, just because I can.

    Honestly, I can definitely see this being one of those films that I start to like the more it settles in LOL. And really, I did really enjoy it! I was worried my own critical nature and over-expectations were going to get in the way of the film, but I really, really enjoyed it. I think, after a few hours of letting it sit, it’s really sinking in now.

    And, like, did you hear? Apparently A24 plans on bringing this and some of their other films back to theaters soon which, eek! I HAVE to watch this on the big screen! I would kill for that. I bet the experience is unlike any other! Here’s hoping it releases to a theater near me when they do their campaign!

    Also, have you ever seen a film where two of the lead actors have the same birthday? Apparently I get the bragging rights of sharing a birthday with Alex Wolff AND Toni Collette. Top that!

    Okay, well, that’s it for today! Without a doubt, I definitely loved and appreciated this film a lot. We’ll see if it becomes a favorite— I think on a rewatch, it maybe will- but for now, I truly enjoyed what Hereditary had to offer! I’m definitely going to analyze the shit out of this and read the script for LOL.

    If you want some of my raw reactions, I have a Twitter thread for it, as I always do.

    I wish I hadn’t forced myself to not give commentary for the first 40 minutes of the film! I’m a chatterbox at heart.

    I’ll most likely come back to trim this down, shift some things around, and add a few more notes tomorrow morning. Until then, bye bye! Onto some more movies to watch, and drafts to post!

  • MISSING THE BLUMHOUSE’S HALFWAY TO HALLOWEEN FILM FESTIVAL

    You guys are seeing what I’m seeing, right? So Blumhouse is doing a mid-year film festival called “Halfway to Halloween” where they’re rereleasing some of their old box office hits back to the screen again. Plus, the tickets are for $8! I haven’t seen prices like that since I saw Insidious on the screen back when it came out!

    They’re partnering with AMC Theatres in order to get it done, and of course my city, one of their production hubs, is going to hosting it. The only problem is – – I won’t be there! I can’t be there, because I’m away at stupid college getting my stupid degree. Ugh. Why does my opportunity-less city suddenly want to have all of the good stuff happen now that I’m gone?!

    It’s a total bummer, but maybe, if I’m lucky, they’ll be doing an event somewhere near me. Not like I’d be able to go, anyway! I’m still down for the count on the vehicle thing. Maybe by the time summer rolls around again, I’ll finally be driving my shiny red scooter. I’ve been wanting to take that thing out for years man. And then I can drive myself to whatever theaters are going to hold the annual Halfway to Halloween Festival myself…Sigh.

  • SUPPRESSING YAWNS

    When a yawned a few minutes ago, I realized something – – that’s the first time I’ve yawned in days.

    Ever since I’ve pulled these back-to-back all-nighters, I’ve felt strangely…awake. Don’t get me wrong, my brain is still fuzzy, but I’ve never had adrenaline this strong to get me through several days of little rest.

    Even now, I’m dog-tired, but it’s like I can feel it everywhere except for my brain. My heart’s fluttering, my chest burns, and I’d like nothing more than to recline on a flat, comfortable surface, but I also feel this weird drive to keep going on. I’ve abused and misused my body before, but never before have I had it give me such pleasant results.

    I wonder if I’ve achieved a new low? I wouldn’t be surprised if everything becomes super sharp and clear before your brain starts to see things that aren’t there.

    Two more days. Just two more days. Man, I know it’ll be okay, but that almost feels like a lifetime away. I wouldn’t be surprised if sleep all through Friday.

  • FAILURE TO LAUNCH

    The other day, I got a fortune cookie that read: “You are ready to take on the world.” It made me smile, I admit, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my heart lurch in a positive way.

    Presently, I felt like that fortune cookie came at just the right time. You know how the job market is in shambles lately, right? Despite the way companies try to convince us that there’s something wrong with the employee base, the fact of the matter is that a lot of companies eliminating those middle-income jobs really set off a chain reaction for the rest of the working world. Now, even an entry-level job seems unattainable.

    Ever since I left AMC two years ago, I’ve been completely unsuccessful in getting a job. No application consideration. No interview. Nothing. Not even a rejection letter. Are jobs being oddly selective? You know how embarrassing it is to get rejected from CVS? I’m a student, so it’s a bit more excusable for me, but it’s concerning for who aren’t currently in school, because my story isn’t unique at all.

    Whereas you used to be able to find a new job in two weeks, you’ll be lucky nowadays if it doesn’t take you less than two months. And it seems discouraging where, everywhere you turn, it seems like the people with the shittiest attitudes somehow hold a position and you don’t. Stings, right?

    I’ve always loved working, primarily because I love making money and the independence it grants you. (I even tried to get a job as early as 13-years-old, but the unemployment office turned me down.)

    And honestly, who doesn’t like money? As long as you don’t worship it, there’s nothing wrong with having it as a goal; money, in fact, comes along with power and influence in most, if not all, societies. We view it as a benchmark for a comfortable lifestyle. With greater income comes less financial distress.

    I feel bad for the working class, yet again, getting branded as lazy and unwilling to work by the higher-ups at most companies and organizations, because it’s simply not true. People want to work. Sure, not every job is going to be your dream career, but most everyone understands a basic biblical truth: if you don’t work, you won’t eat. And instead of admitting there’s a shortage of positions and that their hiring practices are absolutely unprofessional, the finger is instead pointed to the class at the mercy of companies, and there’s nothing we can do about it.

    A few weeks ago, I started to wonder if maybe there was another reason I couldn’t get a job. I’ve always dreamed of opening my own production company, especially for animation, but I always figured there’d be a middle transition between then and now. There was always a bit of a blank gap there. I’d try to fill it in by envisioning different paths, anything from having an internship to winning a contest to holding a job, but none of it was really sticking mentally. I was opening to anything and considered everything, but I couldn’t ever tell which was was the right thing to do.

    And the tragic part is, I make a great employee, too. All my bosses have loved me. I get along great with my coworkers, and I’ve never had a bad experience with customers because I’m willing to bite the bullet and be friendly first. Hell, my second day on the job, my manager came up and told me I might be the favorite of the new hires. And he’s always extended the opportunity for me to come back to continue working seasonally, which I’ve always accepted, and would continue to work at that exact location had I not moved away for college. That’s why I’ll always regard AMC fondly, because they gave me a chance when no one else would.

    So, back to my dilemma. I can’t get a job, right? And I’d love one. I want one. I need one, because I want the freedom of income again. And I one day have the end goal of opening a production studio, right? I’ve always planned for it to be self-funded, so as to avoid being at the mercy of network executives who prioritize profit above all else.

    And because I want it to be self-funded, I need a stable income stream. At least one, for now. So I got to thinking, and I thought, ‘Man, maybe I can’t find a job because I’m supposed to get started now.‘

    I’ve always wanted to sell merchandise with cool designs — stickers, buttons, enamel pins, and so forward. Is it saturated to all hell? Yeah, but it seems like a fun little business venture, and it’s not like I’m looking to become a multi-millionaire.

    And I’m more inclined to believe I’m on the right track, because over the course of the last few week, the pieces started to fall in my lap. I’m taking a business class this quarter, and I learned that these concepts aren’t outside my grasp, after all. I knew next to nothing about the production process for certain physical merchandise, and suddenly we have a club pop up that helps newbies like me navigate the whole thing. Am I still confused? Oh, absolutely. But instead of it being an off-putting feeling, it’s a good kind of apprehension. It’ll be complicated to leap off the diving board, but I’m excited.

    I have a few of the logistics going, and a few speculated designs, and the bulk of it I plan on working on over spring break, along with this here website. I have a name, I have a vision, I have a small catalogue, and I have a good feeling about it.

    Maybe I couldn’t secure a job, but that’s okay. I always felt like, if I didn’t escape my city, I’d be held back from pursuing my ambitions, so maybe the concept similarly applies here: maybe I’d become complacent in a regular job. Maybe I’d never start.

    It’s a blessing in disguise, really, and I’m blessed enough to even be in the position where I can get started on a business without consequence. I have no bills, no obligations, and nothing to lose. Why shouldn’t I start now?

    It was last Saturday I set a launch date, and made a goal. And when I cracked open that fortune cookie a day later, I felt I made the right call, after all.

  • CRACKING OPEN A COLD ONE

    No, not alcohol. Since I’m going to be up anyway, I figured I might as well supplement my night and get a little help from good ole’ Mr. Mean Bean Java Monster.

    I’m not even a super big fan of energy drinks. I had my first one last fall and, while it worked wonders then, I’ve never quite captured that initial burst of energy that first one gave me. Now I’m chasing a placebo. Maybe I hit my caffeine ceiling.

    I’m only two sips deep and can feel my esophagus burning already. Soon I’ll be stopping to pee every 30 minutes. Hmm. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea to use in combination with being up for the last 48 hours. I’m probably one can away from a heart attack. But there’s no better application for it than a student in the midst of finals week! I’m practically the target demographic!

    Now to begin my annual tradition (ritual?) of bumping “Up All Night” by Owl City as I burn my eyes into the backlight of my laptop monitor, only to be interrupted by meticulous sips of my coffee-flavored beverage.

    After college, I’m probably never touching this stuff again. Not like it works, anyway!

  • THE HEIGHT OF AN ALL-NIGHTER

    It’s that time of night where the feelings are feeling good. I’m currently several hours into being rooted in a chair, staring between two-three screens as I work with upmost dedication on my finals.

    JK! Except, I really mean it this time! I’m actually amped up despite not having a coffee in 48 hours. I’m still a slow worker, but man do I feel good!

    Thus, we’ve reached the peak of the all-nighter. The time where you have the adrenaline flowing, where the creative juices and juicing and your brain is outright wired. You’ve probably noticed a dip in quality between this and my last post from an hour ago, and I’ve certainly noticed the uptick in missed keystrokes and typos, but this is what I live for! Oh man, do I love staying up all night!

    I haven’t done this in quite a while. Lately my sleep schedule has been messed up enough to stay up super later, but I may just pull an all-nighter the whole night through, today. No naps. My only class for the day starts at 5 pm and continues until after 7 pm, which is around the time I’ll crash once I get let out.

    The high is going to come down soon enough, though! I shall ride until I can’t anymore.

    In fact, I shouldn’t have thought about it! I’m starting to feel it now.

    (Also, I recently realized, the vast majority of my posts are still in CST. Most posts being made from November-May and September-November are in EST!)

  • MERITS IN MEDIOCRITY

    For all intents and purposes, I’m an okayish writer. I always fantasize about one day being heralded as this brilliant writer, a visionary of my time, but the fact of the matter is that I am not as good as I’ve been told I am.

    I think my whole thing is that I can come up with some cool ideas, but it takes me forever to think of a proper execution. Often times, I commit the biggest tragedy for readers and writers everywhere: I make it lame. I don’t think I can execute something interesting to save my life. You’ll sit there and wonder, ‘What was the point of all this, anyhow?’

    It’s not a case of imposter syndrome, either; I just know myself. I can brainstorm something fun in a few moments, but it’ll take me the next decade to make it fun unless I have a deadline. Hell, even with a deadline, oftentimes I just don’t feel like it’s good enough! Only recently have I started working around deadlines again (ones that aren’t self-imposed, because I need my discipline to be external), and I find myself to never be satisfied with anything I make anymore!

    Is this what getting older is like? I already had a stint of that masochistic dissatisfaction back when I was an animator full-time, but it seems like it’s spread to other creative outlets. Especially because I’m trying to pursue this as a career. Being shit was forgivable when I was 15, but I’m an adult now! Is this the best I can do?

    I can only wait with bated breath until Wednesday, where my script will be read aloud and preformed by my peers for our class. And then on Thursday, where an animatic of my own creation will be presented to the class. I can’t wait — I’m downright excited! But man, I’m also downright scared!

    Genuinely, I can’t recall a time where I’ve ever been as worried about a final product not going well as I am now. What ruined my confidence? What caused this apprehension? Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t presented a finished idea in quite a while. My last project I couldn’t finish in time, and I honestly haven’t worked anything to completion in years.

    I get a little shy when it comes to sharing my things, not only because they never seem to be finished, but I don’t have many people I can regularly show them off to, anyway. I’ve eluded to a series I’m working on to my core group of online friends, and other than some stray conversations with people, that’s about it.

    All the short stories I’ve started, all the videos I have written on sticky notes, all the Clip Studio files I have unfinished on my computer…I haven’t finished any of them. I’ve lost my moment to get many of them out in the world, because I never get anything done. My craving for feedback is limited by the fact that I hate presenting anything before its finished, and if I never finish, well, the cycle continues.

    Maybe that’s why Wednesday and Thursday mean so much to me. In my mind, that’s the day where I get confirmation about whether or not the things I want to do have anything good to them. It’s the bar to see if I can draw a crowd, or to simply see if anyone’s interested. I need to see if I have any merit beyond mediocrity.