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Category: Blog

For blog posts.

  • MY YEAR AS A CINEPHILE

    I made it a mission to watch more movies this calendar year. Not that it was on purpose, but that’s what ended up happening. Of course, some may turn up their noses at the idea of 90 films being a lot in one year- I’ve heard some hardcore addicts consume that in a mere month- but to me, those are big numbers.

    I’ve never really been much of a movie fan. It’s funny, considering I’m in the entertainment industry and all, but I’ve never been partial to them. I think it’s because they’re so…self-contained. Pardon my hypocrisy since I write short stories, but I just really love a good series that you can follow for a time. That’s why people like movies, of course, because you can sort of immerse yourself in another world for a few hours, then get back to business as usual, but that’s never been satisfying for me.

    Movies often feel like the narrative continues well after the screen turns off- that’s a good thing, since it’s proof of a well-rounded universe with a well-crafted story that harbors believable characters. These standalone stories tend to do a great job creating conclusions in a satisfying way, but even if it’s well-done, there’s the more childish part of me that always wants more. It’s better to leave an audience wanting more than to be content, but there’s something so exciting about being drawn into a good series, and knowing you’ll get to see the genius behind how it unfolds. Movies have a genius of their own, and maybe I’m less attracted to the idea of only knowing a story and its characters for a mere two hours. I want to see just how far it can go.

    Not everything needs to be a series, of course, and some things narratively work better as a movie because they’re only meant to be followed for this specific instance in time. But man, I do adore the feeling of staying with a narrative, and following it for months at a time. I like seeing how things will unfold, how the writers will choose to expand it further, how these characters will have a gradual change that feels believable. A good series sticks with you a long time, usually because you’ve watched it a long time.

    That’s not to say movies don’t do that. I do understand the narrative purposes of different mediums. Movies can do exactly everything I just listed, which is why my expression of preference simply comes down to feeling. I love the commitment to a series. I love the way staying attached to something makes me feel. I love feeling like you’re not getting just a momentary peek into these characters’ lives; you’re following them for days, weeks, months, years at a time. Maybe it’s invasive, but personally, I love that kind of intimacy we get to see into these fictitious lives. You’ve been given a reason to care about people that will never be real.

    I did enjoy watching more films, though! I probably would’ve averaged twelve in any given year, so I’m kind of surprised I managed to get through nearly a hundred of them. I might see if I can squeeze in ten more before 2025 rolls around, that way I can brag that I, the long-term media consumer, actually expanded my comfort zone and consumed one hundred entire films.

    Well, probably more like 80 films and a ton of Saw 0.5 rewatches. There was a period where I took in a bunch of short films, and Saw 0.5 I pretty much watched twelve times in one night when I was pulling an all-nighter in the computer lab. But hey, ninety films are ninety films, and if the bulk of them are rewatches, those are still hours that I spent glued to a screen, utterly immersed in whatever narrative I was experiencing for the umpteenth time because it spoke to me in some way.

    I’m a rewatcher, in case you haven’t noticed, but I did make a point to branch out and find new narratives this year. Special shoutout goes to YouTube for making the bulk of these films free this year. I’m sure I wouldn’t have been as committed if there weren’t the ease of access that putting stuff up for free would entail.

    Overall, I had fun this year exploring a whole world of films I’ve always heard about, but never got to experience. That’s what the bulk of this comes down to, anyway; a lot of these were things everyone and their mother has already seen, already raved about and said you should see. That’s another impact of feeling so far removed from pop culture, sometimes. I still haven’t shed the poverty shell, where I can actually experience things where they occur in real time instead of catching up a few years down the line. I got my first taste of that seeing films like Saw X and Five Nights at Freddy’s (twice!) in theaters this year. I don’t know, there was something nice about heading to a theater and knowing what everyone experienced, for a change. But no, now I’ll finally know what everyone means when they’re talking about Scream or Perfect Blue or 10 Things I Hate About You, or even a regular Disney film. There’s still so much I have to catch up on.

    Except nothing will ever get me as passionate about it as Nicole Kidman in that AMC advert. I still have minor pangs of adrenaline every time I hear it play, because it typically meant I was running out of time to clean the theater, haha.

    Even though I said movies weren’t my favorite form of entertainment, I still do like them. They just weren’t my first pick, is all. After spending a year consuming them more frequently, though, I have a newfound appreciation for them now. One thing I do love is how movies come with the opportunity to notice so many new things you didn’t catch the first time around. I really love that about rewatches; they let you take a step back from the narrative for a moment and notice everything outside of it. Of course, my first love will always be television, but now I do understand why people love films a bit more.

    That reminds me, I still need to dismantle my watchlist. And maybe squeeze in one more watch of Final Destination before I catch my flight to France.

    Want to see what I saw this year? Help yourself. You can find my diary over on Letterboxed.

  • THE OPPOSITE OF EVERYTHING

    If I tell people what I mean at face-value, they seem to struggle with comprehending it. “I’m not a fan of this idea.” That seems to mean I am. “I’m not cold.” That seems to mean I am. “I don’t like this.” Well, I guess that means I do.

    What is this phenomenon, where people seem unable to hear exactly what you say? What causes this inability? I’ve dashed away the idea that I will find someone who understands that I mean exactly what I say. Now I simply wish to be alone, that way I don’t have the intrusive decisions of others impede on me any longer. I’m sick of hearing everyone’s thoughts, where they think they know me better than I know me. Are you living in my skin? Are you thinking with my head? I do not think so. So what gives them the impression that they should be so sure? I still have yet to encounter anyone who was correct in their assumption that they know me very well. Perhaps we should realize that people everywhere are complex, and it’s presumptious to assume we can understand them at a glance?

    Even worse is that these aren’t things being done out of control or malice; it comes from a well-intentioned place, and that’s why it frustrates me more. Even my own mother does it. Granted, most of the time she thinks I’m being self-sacrificial, but I’ve never before had a period of time where I felt unheard even by her before now. It seems like everyone has an idea in mind for what will help me, and it’s only after the fact that they relent and realize I was right. It would be helpful to hear me sooner. What good will your hindsight give me? Irritation?

    What gives? Why will no one believe me? I don’t lie frivolously, so it’s not like I’ve built up the reputation. Do I sound hesitant? Unsure? Is a simple, “Yes,” or “No,” not sufficient anymore? I can say exactly what I want and no one will believe me; not even my own mother anymore. Before she’d be correct in looking past my indecisions. Not so much anymore.

    I haven’t done anything reckless. My family and adults in my life applaud me for it. I carefully measure and weigh each decision before I make it. So why is everyone living in some unfounded fear that I’m going to “do wrong”? Is life not about experiences? How do you expect me to learn or evaluate anything if you want me to never do anything? And if you’re so sure your decision for me is correct, then why does it always work out bad for me? All it’s done is turn me off to the idea that I should take advice from others. No one knows what they’re talking about, but are so eager to feel like they’re helpful that they can’t help but put their two cents in your hand. I don’t need anymore spare change. All anyone over me ever does is get me in trouble pushing their ideas onto me; then, when I need help getting out of the mess they pushed on me, everyone wants to whistle and look at the ceiling. So help and people and ideas are equally useless. No one has anything good to offer, so I don’t go looking for anyone anymore. Then I get to feel like a fool for allowing anyone to “extend a hand” again. You can help in other ways, but I don’t need people interfering with me unwanted anymore.

    I don’t feel lost. I feel sure. I know what I want, I know how to get there, and I know what’s best for me. And so far, every time I give someone the chance to see if they understand what I need, they fail me. So I can’t wait to be on my own to exercise the freedom I need. Why do I have to put up with people telling me what I should say or do or think or feel or act or believe? Why am I treated like I am uncapavle of independent thought? Must you breathe for me as well?

    And it even extends to rare moments where I would seek out help in another. Heaven forbid I feel ill or stressed or exceedingly sad; I’m not haggard-looking enough on the outside, so therefore it must not be true. So I don’t go to doctors, who will not believe me when I say I am sick. I will not turn to lovers, who try to convince me that I should be interested in sex. I do not bother discussing if I feel dreary, because what is there to say if it will just be said for me? If you say I’m happy, then I am, and I will always be.

    I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m murdered one day and it be deemed as a suicide. Despite having said that I would never kill myself, my word would never be good enough for anyone else; they always assume they know you better than yourself. It’s only right that even in death I’d be treated the same way.

  • MATURE CHERRY RED

    Ah, December already. Doesn’t it go by so fast? It always seems like so little and yet so much changes in the blink of an eye.

    For awhile now, I’ve been particularly drawn to a certain shade of red. Well, not just a shade, but red full stop. I’ve been absolutely smitten with it lately. For the longest time, my default “item” color has been pink. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still obsessed with all of my cute little pink belongings, but I can feel the start of a transition as I ease out of my soft and cheery shade into something bright and bold.

    It started about two months ago, when I found myself hankering for red lipstick. I’ve never really had the desire to wear it before, as I prefer softer and more natural makeup looks, but I could not get the idea of red out of my mind. I started clambering for red anywhere. I was in need of a new wardrobe, anyway, and perhaps it was thanks to my Princess Diana black sheep sweater dupe that I wanted for my birthday, but I wanted a red cardigan, too. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, it’s not like I was planning to do away with all the brown sweaters and jackets I’ve built up over the years, but I wanted something red for my daily outerwear. I needed it terribly.

    I did eventually get my red, although it was in the form of a cute little jacket with pom-poms on the ends of the drawstrings. It has pockets, too, although they’re quite shallow, and are actually the reason I’ve obtained the first crack in any phone screen I’ve ever owned. While the streak is over for unbroken phones, I couldn’t be happier with my new hooded sweater. It’s the perfect thing for layering and crafting early 2000s looks.

    And I did eventually find my shade of red lipstick, too. A trip to the store allowed me to procure a shade called Rendezvous by NARS, which is absolutely adorable and almost looks to be a rust color more than anything. Still though, I am in love!! It’s the perfect layering shade with anything, and it’s natural looking enough that I don’t feel self-conscious wearing it out in public.

    It’s funny. Now that I’ve altered my favored shade of red from pink to a deep cherry red, I feel more ready to transition into this new era of my life more than anything. I’ve never been immature, but it feels poetic to shed the girlhood shade of pink to a womanly, mature color of red. Of course, I’m still keeping all of my pink belongings (I still have a soft spot for it underneath all this, haha), but I feel like red is much more appropriate for this era of my life. I’m 22, after all, and I’ve always associated 2s with the color red. Maybe that’s what influenced me to make the change to red!

    I’m armed with my new wardrobe, new (arriving) glasses, and new numerical age to take on this next era of my life- and boy, am I excited to face it draped in the color red!

  • AM I FAR TOO TIRED TO FALL ASLEEP?

    I never quite understood Owl City’s line, “[…] I’m far too tired to fall asleep?” that he sung in Fireflies until recently.

    I’ve not been sleeping well. I can’t fall asleep at all, actually. Well, I do drift into unconsciousness, but I never achieve rest, even though I’m going into REM.

    Last night was one of the worst examples of this. I basically spent all night awake. I fell asleep, but I didn’t sleep at all. I thought it wouldn’t yield any results until I searched it up; apparently there’s something called “paradoxical insomnia.” That’s not it, but I thought it was interesting topic to learn more about. (You know how much I love learning.)

    It’s gotten to the point where sleeping is becoming even more of a chore than before. I thought it was getting better, but it rebounded even harder than it did before last night. Even though my sleep schedule has always been all types of crazy forever, I’ve never suffered from insomnia before. I’ve always been able to adequately rest; it’s getting my mind tired enough that’s hard. My brain can stay on far longer than my body, so I need to exhaust that before I can finally go to bed.

    Now, though, I get tired, but sleep isn’t coming easy. My eyelids are never heavy. When I close them, it feels more like blinking; usually sleep is accompanied by a certain heaviness on your eyes, but I haven’t felt that in a long time. For weeks now, it feels like I’m feigning sleep until it comes to me for real. Once it arrives, even that is never deep or heavy enough to feel restorative; when I do dream, it’s barely outside my reach. It feels like it’s hardly hanging on.

    It makes me sick to my stomach. This isn’t an exaggeration. I’ve been stumbling through my days plagued with constant nausea. It gets worse at night, where I start gagging in order to get away from it. Part of me feels like I should just commit to vomiting in order to make it go away. It’s all I can think about, every day.

    I’m not confident I’ll be sleeping easier tonight, either, but I’m hopeful for it, and I’d like to think I will. If it’s gone away once, then what’s stopping it from ending again? I think it’ll happen soon. It has to.

  • THE SMELL OF BROKEN GLASS

    One thing I’ve always been able to vividly imagine is the smell of shattered glass. It’s sickening to think about even now, because my mind conjures up such a perfect, overwhelming replica of it in my mind every time.

    I have dreams about it often, and even in my dreams it turns my stomach every time. It’s as repugnant as it is hard to forget. Even after I wake up, the memory of it still lingers.

    I’m not quite sure why it’s this smell in particular that’s decided to take me over. I’m not even sure where it came from. To my knowledge, it’s not like I have any secret repressed memories involving shattered glass, although I did get a chunk of amber glass lodged in my big toe one time. Other than that, nothing pops out as dramatic enough for the scent to follow me into my subconscious. It’s been years since I’ve even smelled it in person.

    The difficult part comes with describing just what makes it so disgusting. It’s not exactly a strong smell, but the few whiffs of it you get are deeply unpleasant, and it seems the dream magnifies that twofold. I have memories of wanting to gag after it touches the back of my throat, almost so strong you can taste it.

    Apparently smelling in dreams is uncommon, but it does happen. It’s more likely we’ll utilize our sight or ears or touch before we smell or taste. It would be nice to smell or taste a birthday cake or fresh bread. Instead, I’ll chew through mouthfuls of thick, jagged, clear glass, and the shards cut into my cheeks and leave an imprint on my olfactory nerve.

    I’ve tried to consult Dream Moods before, like I do with all my dreams, but the closest I’ve ever found was the description for broken glass and smells. Of course, I wasn’t exactly expecting to see an entry for smelling broken glass, but I’ve seen more specific on Dream Moods before, so I was optimistic.

    All it says is that a particular smell is trying to dredge up feelings you associate with it, and in my case, it’s nothing except disgust. I’ve not a memory to first about it, and yet every couple of months, I’ll be reminded of it in a dream. It’s never an unwanted dream, or a nightmare, but the smell will creep up slowly, and then hit me like a bus, and I’ll have no choice but to swallow it until I wake up.

  • TO THE CHOIR, FOR THOSE WITH EYES TO SEE

    For the longest time, my staple look has always been overgrown glasses. I’m not sure what it is. Perhaps it’s because I have big eyes; when you add big frames, it makes my eyes look even more doe-ish than before. Maybe I want to look more open than my round features already convey. Eyes are, after all, the windows to the soul.

    But I’ve grown tired of these lenses. I think I’ve outgrown the look, because lately I’m ready to transition into a more mature, more womanly look. Not sexy, or anything (I don’t think I could pull that off), but I’m ready to have something that flatters my eyes a bit more now as I transition into this new period of my life.

    I also want to stop looking like a fucking loser. Glasses are cute and all, but my God, I’m tired of them. I’m tired of needing glasses to look at anything. I used to not mind it before, but for some reason I’ve found myself especially short at the thought of having to use them. They’re on all the time, always touching my face, and the thought of having them pisses me off.

    These would only be the spare. I never thought it’d happen to me, but I think I finally want contacts now. That’s the real end goal for me now. I used to be pushed away at the thought of sticking something in my eye, but I can touch my eyeballs on their own to remove eyelashes; I think I’m now desensitized. It took one night of looking at videos and scrolling through articles about finding the right contacts and caring for them and everything you’d ever need to know about having them. I made sure to fill up my brain with everything I could find until it started pouring out my nose.

    Until I get fitted, I’ll be stuck with frames. These same frames I’ve only had for a year, but have become increasingly less enthused of by their sight. I don’t want my eyes to be hidden behind anything anymore. I think I might forget to close my eyes when dust gets kicked up by the wind, and I’ll miss having a shield for protection, but I don’t want to be concealed anymore. I want to feel the rain on my face as it comes down from the sky. I want to wear cute looks that aren’t lessened by my spectacles. I want to be able to see everything, all the time, without needing to put my eyes on.

    Sometimes it teases me, where my eyes are lubricated, and my vision clears up just enough to where I can see the world in full view, with every crisp edge and color which stares upon me in beauty. It lasts as long as I don’t blink, but once I do, the world is back to being a whitish blur.

    I miss being able to see.

  • UNDER CONSTRUCTION

    I’m sure my modest audience of one was wondering where I’d gone. Never fear! I’d taken a short break to get my website together. I’d grown a little unenthused at the previous theme and wanted something newer. Something that I could build myself. And I was!

    …Until my laptop broke. Oh my poor dear. Technically it’s not entirely broken; one of the fans has started to fail, but the part is on backorder for three weeks, and since I can’t do much in terms of heavy lifting for it now, I’m pretty much stuck using my tablet. It’s great for convenience’s sake, but there’s only so much you can do on a touchscreen. It’s a real inconvenience for my class since I’m taking my semester online! Geez!

    Anyway, I’ll be back as soon as I can, hopefully with something that works. In the meantime, I’ve figured out that perhaps this is a sign from God to take a rest for my arms. They’ve been giving me terrible issues lately; there were quite a few times this week where I couldn’t use them at all. That’s a bit of a problem when you’re a writer who requires ambidextrous control of both limbs! Oh well. Maybe by the time I’m due my computer back, maybe my arms will be feeling better, and a little less numb. The set-up I’m using isn’t the best for recovery, though- pretty much making it worse, in fact, since it’s causing me to compress my elbows even more- but maybe that’ll be repaired in time, too. Here’s hoping. I’ll be back with better news! Adieu.

  • I’LL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN

    You ever stop wanting something you’ve wanted forever?

    I’ve always been pretty ambitious. Starting from the age of nine, I’ve pretty much always known what I’ve wanted to do. I didn’t know exactly how I’d get there, but I knew that I had a specific end goal with what I wanted to do and how I wanted to be.

    Which I guess isn’t too different to now. I still know what I want to do; I have the end goal in mind, and I still want it, just…not as much as I did before. That’s how a lot of things have been lately. I’ve stopped wanting as much as before. Even my drive has been done for the past few years. Used to be so self-driven and ambitious, now I’m just…not.

    Maybe I’ll get my motivation back one day. I sure hope I do. It’s still sort of there, an inkling of it writhing around inside me, but I think it’s packed down by fear. I think anytime I ever want anything there’s always a catch to it, so now I feel like I can’t want anything without it going bad.

    Really, I just want my drive back. I enjoyed being ambitious, but now I just feel stuck. I liked back when I’d be driven on nothing but dedication alone to accomplish something. I think the main problem is that I’ve spent so long wanting something that I’m experiencing dream fatigue. I think I just need to shake life up, but in some ways, I’m limited in my circumstances with the way I can. It’s too hot to do anything productive, everything always breaks, everything always gets in the way. The good old family curse is now getting in my way.

    It may be far out, but sometimes I feel like I’ll never get that feeling again.

  • I SHOULD START SELLING MY BELONGINGS

    Over the years I’ve built up quite a collection of things. I’m not even sure when it happened, too. Usually I pack pretty light, as I prefer, and I’m not really a fan of having so much stuff. But now I’ve almost clambered down to the bare essentials, and I still can’t let anything go!

    So I’m probably going to start selling stuff. I have a lot of things I could get rid of since I have use for them no longer. It would earn me a pretty penny, too. I think that’s my main motivator. I just want the cash.

    It’s not even like a clutter. All of my things are stuffed in a closet, looking comparatively cluttered since our house is so small. It would allow me to move freely, too, if I only had to go with some fun things and a suitcase full of clothes.

    Guess I should start packing, huh?

  • COLLEGE STUDENT COUCH SURFER

    So I’m sleeping on the couch.

    We just bought a couch the other day (and by “we” I mean my mom) because the last one we had was a dainty little love seat that was probably upholstered by the Victorians, so it wasn’t suitable for everyday use. Which is insane, because it’s furniture, but I digress.

    Anyway, my mom bought this gorgeous couch recently, and she’s been awaiting its arrival until it finally came yesterday. 72″ of chartreuse/mustard yellow velvet beauty, and I have to say, this mug is comfortable.

    She bought it with the purpose of it not just being a seating area for us, but also a bed. I’ve pretty much shared a bed with her every time I’ve gotten back from school, because our house is a shoebox and really only has one real bedroom. It would work a bit better if I slept at more normal times, but my laptop only gets so dark, and she has a real job, so separate sleeping areas were needed at some point.

    I spent my first night on the couch last night, because it wasn’t at all difficult to set up, and I have to say, it was pretty comfy! I prefer firmer sleeping surfaces, and I definitely got that here, although it’s apparent that I’m going to be spending the next few nights figuring out what’s the best way to sleep on this. I just barely have enough clearance to fully lay down on this, and to give you a better picture I’m 5’2, so that’s saying something.

    But I don’t mind. I can honestly sleep just about anywhere. I’ve slept standing up. I’ve slept sitting on bar stools. I’ve sleep on concrete floors, and one time I even fell asleep in the shower! No, I don’t have narcolepsy, just a lot of sleep debt, and it seems like comfort is no a qualification for catching up on it.

    Anyway, this is still super fun and aesthetic to sit on during the day, especially now that I’m positioned right in front of the window unit during the middle of hot-as-hell-precursor-to-worse June, so this couldn’t be a better set-up for me. I can actually wear sweatshirts without catching a heatstroke!

    And it even came in this huge box that I can turn into a recording booth! And personally, I think this is preparing me for a maybe future of backpacking and hostel sleeping, so this is a win in my book!