My butt hurts. The reason my butt hurts is because I got a shot there this evening. A shot of antibiotics. And, to be honest, I was quite relieved to get the prognosis of an infection that accompanied said shot. Let me back up and explain:
For the past few weeks, I have been experiencing a...discomfort, if you will, in a very specific location on my body. My groin. Actually, a very specific location on my groin. And this discomfort stayed in that very, very localized area of my body. It started first as a mild, albeit confusing, sensation that occurred once every three or four days at a time. The intensity on the pain scale was between a three and a four. Noticeable, for certain, but entirely infrequent and mild enough to ignore. That, unfortunately, didn't last long.
Soon it escalated to every day. And then multiple times a a day. To then a near constant. Same exact location this entire time; and varying degrees in intensity (never greater than a five on the pain scale). And then last Friday happened.
I was spending the evening with some friends. My stomach was in knots and I was nauseous to the point of fighting throwing up. And that sensation was at a constant six on the pain scale. Basically, it felt like someone (and, pardon the graphic description) was constantly squeezing my left testicle. Then, late evening/early morning hit, just as I was about to get some sleep, I had an attack: the best I can describe is that of the description of a woman having contractions. It lasted for less than five minutes and it spiked to about an eight or nine on the pain scale. I was writhing in pain. The last time I had an episode like that what when I was dealing with my right kidney (which I'll get to in a minute). Fast forward to Saturday night and I had an equally intense attack after another full day of that squeezing sensation. Which is why I made the decision Sunday morning to go to the hospital as soon as possible. Which was today.
Now, before you think of me as the boy who cried wolf, I want you to take three things into consideration: the very specific and unchanging location of this. the gradual to sudden severity of what was happening, and, most importantly, that this is not the first scare that I've had. Back in early to mid 2008, I had a lump on my right kidney. A lump so large that it protruded out of my skin. The symptom were almost identical, including the severity of the attacks. I also attempted to get tested back then; but I didn't have adequate insurance, so I had to go to the ER to get it checked out. To which the nurse who "treated" me (felt it, put pressure on it causing an attack so intense I nearly blacked out from the pain) and then told me I was dehydrated and need to start drinking more water. To this day, I was never fully was tested for cancer and I still have to be careful with my kidneys. Which is precisely why, after the second attack in the span of 24 hours occurred, I made it a point to not repeat history and to legitimately get checked out this time around.
While the prognosis, thank God, was minor (especially compared to what I have been suspecting it was in the days leading up to me seeking medical attention), it did serve as a proper wake up call. Once again, I was faced with the reminder of my own mortality. And, really, not just the fact that my life will end, but the painfully real fact that I have no idea how and when it will end. As I laid on that gurney this afternoon, being taken to receive an ultrasound, it finally sunk in that all the plans I have made are for not if I don't act upon them. The only way I will ever become a published novelist is to sit down and write. The only way I will ever have a family of my own is if I take the risk of dating. The only way I will be able to become financially comfortable is by landing an actual decent job and start investing and saving. And, most importantly, the only way I can live a happy and healthy life is if I finally start taking care of my health and welfare. The full sum of a life is that of actions and consequences. A constant stream of events that span your first and last breath.
The fact of the matter, the one that I was once again brutally reminded of, is that I'm going to die. It could be tomorrow or when I turn 80. Regardless of when it does happen, it, without a doubt, will. Yet, instead of viewing this finality in the lens of hopeless despair, I am choosing now to take full reins of the remaining time allotted to me and to make full use of it. I know what it's like to live with regrets and "what if's". I know, full well, what it's like to go to bed after a wasted day. The hours I spend on Facebook could be hours spent hiking in the woods or helping the poor. Learning a new language or further mastering the one that is native to me. Instead of sitting on the couch, I should be traveling the world. And the last thing I want as I draw my last breath is to be filled with regret from all the chances I was too afraid to take.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
The Time Machine Inside My Head
One of the benefits of being a writer, especially a blogger, is that we're allowed the luxury of introspection. It's entirely expected that we go around contemplating the going-ons of the world we live in. We ruminate equally on the lives of others and of ourselves. Which brings me to tonight's post: the time machine inside my head.
This evening I was in need of a walk to clear my head and to get a slight change in scenery. I didn't want to travel far, so I picked Safeway as my destination. I rarely go there (for no reason, really), so worked perfectly as a mild escape from the day-to-day pattern of life that I have. I took my time going there, ducking into another local market to wander and glanced in a local coffee shop that was barren of customers, but still open, nonetheless. The important factor to keep in mind is that the path I chose and took was down Main Street. I'll get to its importance in a minute.
Anyway, I reached Safeway, strolled around for about ten minutes, and then left. The whole point of this trip was, not to buy anything, but as I mentioned several times, to slip away. While I was in Safeway, I noticed that a local brewery had already released a pumpkin beer, which, now that I think about it, was the trigger to my contemplative journey back. It seems odd at first glance, but it's a subconscious signal of the changing of the seasons; which will eventually lead to the ending of another year. The unrepressible march of time continues forward.
As I began my stroll back, and this is where the importance of Main Street comes into play, I happened to start to approach the new high school. The old high school, the one I went to, was finally demolished this month. Out with the old and in with the new. Very little else has changed (structurally, anyway) on Main Street, but, as a whole, the demise of the old school is just another severed tie that once held my past to my present. The drive-in movie theater closed a few years back. The drive-in restaurant that used to hold a classic car show every Friday was closed down last year. A clothing store that used to sell letterman jackets and school rings finally went out of business this year. An old drug store that was around for 50 years is now a thrift shop that helps the local humane society. Even my 15 year high school reunion, which took place a couple weeks back, only had five people, counting myself. To sum it up, I was meant to move back here just so I could finally close the chapter of my hometown and move away forever.
It's bittersweet, this change. I'm no longer saddened or angered by the drastic spike in crime and meth that has swallowed up a town I used to call home. No, now all I am is just disappointed in the course of events that led to it. I do not grieve as I accept the very real future of me walking away and turning my back to it. It's just a let down that it had to happen this way. That we, as a species, are not allowed to have nice things, because we will only bring them to a ruin. We tarnish what we touch, as if a reverse King Midas. And even now, it what could be claimed as the pinnacle of technological advancement, still cannot get past our petty differences and self inflicted invisible barriers to become one race of people working towards one goal. It is truly this that I lament the most.
The other piece of the puzzle that brought me to this point was something I came across earlier this summer online. It's a picture on Imgur entitled "Only 90's kids will...oh...": http://imgur.com/gallery/uPims It sums up everything that my generation struggles with the most-rapid change. Some quotes from it include: "because so much technological advancement happened in a rapid time frame when we were growing up that we can clearly remember having technologies that are now obsolete..." "Just to add onto that, our childhood wasn't even that technology based. We grew up knowing of chalk, skateboards, jump rope, street hockey, playgrounds, butterfly collecting, etc. Slowly technology took over our lives and now there are hardly kids playing outside in the summer." and finally "Not to mention, ours was the last generation that grew up with all those bright promises of "hard work, go to college, and you'll have a successful life," only to find those hopes abruptly dashed when the housing bubble burst."
You could argue that we as a society have evolved to a point where such technologies are integral; but we're still at a point where random strangers hide behind their keyboards, starting flame wars and spewing hatred to individuals who they have never even met. Or cyber bullying, which is even worse than regular bullying because of how quickly and anonymously is spreads like digital wildfire. Kids and teens have always been ruthless to one another; but entire reputations are destroyed in minutes over rumors spread over Facebook and Instagram. People always ask where the parents are; not considering that they're glued to the same devices their offspring are. We don't talk, we text. We don't laugh, we LOL with a straight face. Why go to a communal movie theater when you can sit alone in your room watching Netflix? We have fully succumbed to mechanical agoraphobia; and it not only happened overnight, it happened without us even realizing it. And we "90's kids" were at the head of the parade that led us down this road.
And the fact of the matter is this: we can no longer control what we have created. This addiction is too entwined for us to ever quit.
As I mentioned before, one of my goals this year was closure. Letting go and moving on from the things that haunt my thoughts and steal the sleep from me. And, it is with much sadness, that I am choosing to walk away from this town and to not look back. While I still hold dear these memories; this town is of no more use to me than the Walkman I once had as a child.
This evening I was in need of a walk to clear my head and to get a slight change in scenery. I didn't want to travel far, so I picked Safeway as my destination. I rarely go there (for no reason, really), so worked perfectly as a mild escape from the day-to-day pattern of life that I have. I took my time going there, ducking into another local market to wander and glanced in a local coffee shop that was barren of customers, but still open, nonetheless. The important factor to keep in mind is that the path I chose and took was down Main Street. I'll get to its importance in a minute.
Anyway, I reached Safeway, strolled around for about ten minutes, and then left. The whole point of this trip was, not to buy anything, but as I mentioned several times, to slip away. While I was in Safeway, I noticed that a local brewery had already released a pumpkin beer, which, now that I think about it, was the trigger to my contemplative journey back. It seems odd at first glance, but it's a subconscious signal of the changing of the seasons; which will eventually lead to the ending of another year. The unrepressible march of time continues forward.
As I began my stroll back, and this is where the importance of Main Street comes into play, I happened to start to approach the new high school. The old high school, the one I went to, was finally demolished this month. Out with the old and in with the new. Very little else has changed (structurally, anyway) on Main Street, but, as a whole, the demise of the old school is just another severed tie that once held my past to my present. The drive-in movie theater closed a few years back. The drive-in restaurant that used to hold a classic car show every Friday was closed down last year. A clothing store that used to sell letterman jackets and school rings finally went out of business this year. An old drug store that was around for 50 years is now a thrift shop that helps the local humane society. Even my 15 year high school reunion, which took place a couple weeks back, only had five people, counting myself. To sum it up, I was meant to move back here just so I could finally close the chapter of my hometown and move away forever.
It's bittersweet, this change. I'm no longer saddened or angered by the drastic spike in crime and meth that has swallowed up a town I used to call home. No, now all I am is just disappointed in the course of events that led to it. I do not grieve as I accept the very real future of me walking away and turning my back to it. It's just a let down that it had to happen this way. That we, as a species, are not allowed to have nice things, because we will only bring them to a ruin. We tarnish what we touch, as if a reverse King Midas. And even now, it what could be claimed as the pinnacle of technological advancement, still cannot get past our petty differences and self inflicted invisible barriers to become one race of people working towards one goal. It is truly this that I lament the most.
The other piece of the puzzle that brought me to this point was something I came across earlier this summer online. It's a picture on Imgur entitled "Only 90's kids will...oh...": http://imgur.com/gallery/uPims It sums up everything that my generation struggles with the most-rapid change. Some quotes from it include: "because so much technological advancement happened in a rapid time frame when we were growing up that we can clearly remember having technologies that are now obsolete..." "Just to add onto that, our childhood wasn't even that technology based. We grew up knowing of chalk, skateboards, jump rope, street hockey, playgrounds, butterfly collecting, etc. Slowly technology took over our lives and now there are hardly kids playing outside in the summer." and finally "Not to mention, ours was the last generation that grew up with all those bright promises of "hard work, go to college, and you'll have a successful life," only to find those hopes abruptly dashed when the housing bubble burst."
You could argue that we as a society have evolved to a point where such technologies are integral; but we're still at a point where random strangers hide behind their keyboards, starting flame wars and spewing hatred to individuals who they have never even met. Or cyber bullying, which is even worse than regular bullying because of how quickly and anonymously is spreads like digital wildfire. Kids and teens have always been ruthless to one another; but entire reputations are destroyed in minutes over rumors spread over Facebook and Instagram. People always ask where the parents are; not considering that they're glued to the same devices their offspring are. We don't talk, we text. We don't laugh, we LOL with a straight face. Why go to a communal movie theater when you can sit alone in your room watching Netflix? We have fully succumbed to mechanical agoraphobia; and it not only happened overnight, it happened without us even realizing it. And we "90's kids" were at the head of the parade that led us down this road.
And the fact of the matter is this: we can no longer control what we have created. This addiction is too entwined for us to ever quit.
As I mentioned before, one of my goals this year was closure. Letting go and moving on from the things that haunt my thoughts and steal the sleep from me. And, it is with much sadness, that I am choosing to walk away from this town and to not look back. While I still hold dear these memories; this town is of no more use to me than the Walkman I once had as a child.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
The Changing of the Season
August, for whatever reason, tends to be the one month out of the year that is a catalyst for change. Maybe it's the beginning of the transition from Summer to Autumn. Maybe it's the fact that the year is now over half over and any change that hasn't happened yet needs to hurry up and start. Maybe it's left over from when I was in school and August meant starting school in September; thus the beginning of another cycle in my life. I'm not sure why this particular month is a powerful change agent, but it is and (from what I recall) always has been.
This has been a busy summer for me. Much has happened in a short amount of time. Some good, some bad, some events quite unexpected. But through the apparent chaos of it, I have been at relative peace with life. I am no longer "a hearse, carrying dead hurts" (Mostly Prove Me Wrong by Fiction Family). I've made it a point this year to bring closure to my past as best as I can. With malice towards none, I move forward with my life; only making time for those who choose to be in my life. What free time I have is precious to me and I would rather spend time with someone that respects that. That way, those who choose not to spend time with me close that door all on their own. No bridges are burned that way, either. I no longer take it personal when someone doesn't want to spend their time with me. It, quite simply, is what it is.
On the flipside, I'm not closing that door for anyone, either. I've already spent some time with a few friends who I haven't seen in years. If someone, anyone really, wants to be in my life, all they have to do is reach out and make the effort. I'm more than willing to meet them halfway and bridge any gap there is between us. Friendship is extremely important to me; and I would hate to think that I have lost one forever.
Speaking of transition, career wise, it looks like I will be working once again in Seattle. Every recruiter I have talked to recently is there. Every job and company I have looked at is there. I'm feeling the pull to transition north and I'm not getting in my own way. There's a lot of opportunity there and I feel like that is where the next chapter in my life will begin. If that means living up there as well, well only time and life will tell. I honestly don't know where I will wind up, but I know when the next phase begins, everything will fall into place pretty much overnight. That is how it has been happening for a while now-life stagnant for months at a time and then change just up and happening all at once. At least this time around I'm seeing the signs before they happen.
Speaking of the unexpected happening and seeing the signs beforehand, I know that I won't be single for much longer. No specific individual comes to mind, but the pieces are falling into place for me to enter into a relationship. With the stabilizing of my life just around the corner and the fact that I'm no longer fighting the urge to date (I'm not going to date someone when nothing is working out for me. If I'm not stable in my own life, I'm not going to bring turbulence into someone else's.). And, while I do have an affinity for finding the fairer sex, something tells me it's going to be someone I know already. I just have no idea who.
Another itch I'm about to scratch is my urge to write. Not just blog, but an honest to goodness novel. Or even just a collection of short stories. I have so many ideas rattling around in my head that I cannot wait to turn them into a book. I've even considered selecting some of these posts and putting them into an anthology to essays (think David Sedaris). If I do go that route, I'm going to have to flesh out the ones I select so they're longer in length. Which I'm cool with doing. Regardless of the route I go, it's going to have to happen soon. The desire to create is palpable.
The seasons of life are about to change. With the cooling of the temperatures and the return of the rain, so also begins another cycle of metamorphosis. I shed the cocoon once more, spread my wings, and take another flight of faith.
This has been a busy summer for me. Much has happened in a short amount of time. Some good, some bad, some events quite unexpected. But through the apparent chaos of it, I have been at relative peace with life. I am no longer "a hearse, carrying dead hurts" (Mostly Prove Me Wrong by Fiction Family). I've made it a point this year to bring closure to my past as best as I can. With malice towards none, I move forward with my life; only making time for those who choose to be in my life. What free time I have is precious to me and I would rather spend time with someone that respects that. That way, those who choose not to spend time with me close that door all on their own. No bridges are burned that way, either. I no longer take it personal when someone doesn't want to spend their time with me. It, quite simply, is what it is.
On the flipside, I'm not closing that door for anyone, either. I've already spent some time with a few friends who I haven't seen in years. If someone, anyone really, wants to be in my life, all they have to do is reach out and make the effort. I'm more than willing to meet them halfway and bridge any gap there is between us. Friendship is extremely important to me; and I would hate to think that I have lost one forever.
Speaking of transition, career wise, it looks like I will be working once again in Seattle. Every recruiter I have talked to recently is there. Every job and company I have looked at is there. I'm feeling the pull to transition north and I'm not getting in my own way. There's a lot of opportunity there and I feel like that is where the next chapter in my life will begin. If that means living up there as well, well only time and life will tell. I honestly don't know where I will wind up, but I know when the next phase begins, everything will fall into place pretty much overnight. That is how it has been happening for a while now-life stagnant for months at a time and then change just up and happening all at once. At least this time around I'm seeing the signs before they happen.
Speaking of the unexpected happening and seeing the signs beforehand, I know that I won't be single for much longer. No specific individual comes to mind, but the pieces are falling into place for me to enter into a relationship. With the stabilizing of my life just around the corner and the fact that I'm no longer fighting the urge to date (I'm not going to date someone when nothing is working out for me. If I'm not stable in my own life, I'm not going to bring turbulence into someone else's.). And, while I do have an affinity for finding the fairer sex, something tells me it's going to be someone I know already. I just have no idea who.
Another itch I'm about to scratch is my urge to write. Not just blog, but an honest to goodness novel. Or even just a collection of short stories. I have so many ideas rattling around in my head that I cannot wait to turn them into a book. I've even considered selecting some of these posts and putting them into an anthology to essays (think David Sedaris). If I do go that route, I'm going to have to flesh out the ones I select so they're longer in length. Which I'm cool with doing. Regardless of the route I go, it's going to have to happen soon. The desire to create is palpable.
The seasons of life are about to change. With the cooling of the temperatures and the return of the rain, so also begins another cycle of metamorphosis. I shed the cocoon once more, spread my wings, and take another flight of faith.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
The Winds of Change are Blowing
So it begins.
A new chapter in my life has begun. I woke up yesterday morning with the feeling that everything was different. That this past weekend has changed the course of my life. For better or worse, I begin on a path that I will walk for the rest of my life.
The question is: what?
Not to be cryptic, but I have no idea what the change is or will be. It was an amazingly fantastic weekend, but there wasn't anything remotely overt in the life changing department. The only thing is that I can tell you is that I woke up stronger. Ready to take on the world once more. I regained my determination to make this life mine and to not take any prisoners or compromises in the path that I feel I should be walking. To the future that I will make my own.
I will say this: I'm done putting my life on hold. I'm done waiting. The kid gloves are coming off and I'm putting myself and my needs first. I'm not saying "no more mister nice guy" because I am always going to be that guy. I'm always going to be there for others and to treat them better than I treat myself. But I am getting out of my own way and I'm ready to take this life by the horns and see where the bucking bronco takes me.
The last time this happened, this feeling, I was living in Texas two months later. I am no stranger to sudden and drastic life changes. When I let go of my doubts and get out of my own way, big, nay, drastic life changes happen overnight. And it has begun once again. I'm wiping the slate entirely clean and starting from scratch.
As of right now, everything is an option. Living situation. Relationship status. Job and career path. Empires will rise and fall and the mental eclipse that has been blackening my potential is rolling away once more. It's time to hit the ground running and to show the world just exactly what I'm made of. It's time to bring forth why I was put on this Earth to begin with.
The winds of change are blowing. And the air has never been sweeter.
A new chapter in my life has begun. I woke up yesterday morning with the feeling that everything was different. That this past weekend has changed the course of my life. For better or worse, I begin on a path that I will walk for the rest of my life.
The question is: what?
Not to be cryptic, but I have no idea what the change is or will be. It was an amazingly fantastic weekend, but there wasn't anything remotely overt in the life changing department. The only thing is that I can tell you is that I woke up stronger. Ready to take on the world once more. I regained my determination to make this life mine and to not take any prisoners or compromises in the path that I feel I should be walking. To the future that I will make my own.
I will say this: I'm done putting my life on hold. I'm done waiting. The kid gloves are coming off and I'm putting myself and my needs first. I'm not saying "no more mister nice guy" because I am always going to be that guy. I'm always going to be there for others and to treat them better than I treat myself. But I am getting out of my own way and I'm ready to take this life by the horns and see where the bucking bronco takes me.
The last time this happened, this feeling, I was living in Texas two months later. I am no stranger to sudden and drastic life changes. When I let go of my doubts and get out of my own way, big, nay, drastic life changes happen overnight. And it has begun once again. I'm wiping the slate entirely clean and starting from scratch.
As of right now, everything is an option. Living situation. Relationship status. Job and career path. Empires will rise and fall and the mental eclipse that has been blackening my potential is rolling away once more. It's time to hit the ground running and to show the world just exactly what I'm made of. It's time to bring forth why I was put on this Earth to begin with.
The winds of change are blowing. And the air has never been sweeter.
Monday, July 13, 2015
The Words in My Veins
"Oh girl, this boat is sinking. There's no sea left for me. And how the sky gets heavy, when you are underneath it. Oh, I want to sail away from here. And God.... He came down, down, down..." - Otherside by Macklemore.
As a writer, there is nothing more intimidating than a blank screen and a blinking cursor. Ideally, it's an invitation to create, but it can be the most frightening and paralyzing thing you can see. There's a lot of doubt that fills the very essence of your being as you look at the possibility of either utter and complete failure or skyrocketing success. Or, the worst of it all-mediocrity. Because I, like every other writer, would rather be a terrible writer than a mediocre one. One who's craft is utter meaningless crap.
Being a writer is the loneliest type of magician there is. We create whole worlds; while we can barely live in our own. We're shut-ins by nature. We HAVE to be shut ins-the world is a noisy place and full of distraction. We're dysfunctional by default and the best of us are truly broken souls. Some of, hell probably most of the greats dealt with crippling depression and more than a few committed suicide. And addiction is something that runs just as rampant in the wordsmith community. We let the coping mechanisms take over; and most of the time we don't even realized it. Writing staves off the demons in our head for a while, but never permanently. Which is the other main drive of why we keep writing. And, to clear the air right now-no writer writes to get rich. No real writers, any way. The biggest and most universal addiction that writers have is writing itself. The flow of words as they materialize in front of us is almost a high. No, strike that, it is one. When a writer is "in the zone" we're getting high on our own craft and there's a fire inside us that allows us to feel alive once more. Which is why when we stop writing, the crushing weight of depression kicks back in. Hence the quote at the beginning of this post.
By nature, writers are difficult people to be around for an extended period of time. I am, at the very least self-actualized to both realized and admit this. I know how moody I can be; even if I don't realize at the time how difficult I'm being. Don't get me wrong-we're (for the most part) very down-to-earth and (somewhat) friendly people. Some of us (such as myself) are also extremely non-judgmental people you'll ever meet. But being around us for an extended period of time is about as good for you as being around untreated uranium. By nature we can be extremely self-destructive and it's hard to maintain a friendship that is constantly doubting themselves. One minute we can think we're the best writer that has ever put pen to paper and the next we want to set fire to everything we have ever written. Especially during the editing process.
Before you start thinking we're the most terrible people to ever walk this Earth, there's many redeemable qualities about us. First off, we LOVE our readers. I cannot emphasize that enough. To know that someone is reading our work (and hopefully is enjoying it) is the biggest thrill. The most gratifying experience is when someone says that they love our work. I'm not going to lie-we may be skeptical at first, but that's only because, as I mentioned before, we constantly doubt ourselves and our work. So, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, we love our readers far more than you love us. Someone told me recently that they loved something I had written and I wanted to hug the crap out of them.
Second is our quirks are pretty awesome. Writers love our tools. I'm a big quality pen freak. Quality pens are pretty much the best thing ever. Especially when you hear them scratch over quality paper and the magic begins again. And typewriters. Despite where technology has taken us, every writer should not only own a typewriter, but use it at least once a year. I personally do not own one, but I will as soon I have the ways and means to pick one up. Growing up, my family had an electric Smith Corona and the hum it made while it sat there waiting for the magic to begin; followed by the ecstasy educing sound of the pounding of each letter hitting the paper and the creation of each word. The clanking and rattling is the best sound in the world. As soon as I can, I'm going to find and pick up one of those Smith Coronas for myself. I honestly know and believe that I need one of those in my life.
Writers are also readers and we're always searching for amazing quotes. When I came across this Buzzfeed article the other day, I had to bookmark it immediately: http://www.buzzfeed.com/jenniferschaffer/i-am-i-am-i-am#.mtr7xMeBa The perfect turn of a phrase is what we live for. There is a strange electricity in the forming or reading of a perfect sentence. In fact, the one of the best is Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn; as every sentence is razor sharp and cuts to the bone. Not a single word is wasted and that is truly a rare thing to find in any novel. I honestly tip my hat to her.
Brevity, as you may have noticed, is not my strong suit. I realize that. Which is why I'm cutting this short. Writers have a strong tendency to go off on tangents and I'm a perfect example of this. To be blunt, I had the strong urge to write and this is what came from that. I will add, in closing, that I started watching the show Californiacation yesterday and the show struck pretty close to home for me. The show, if you're not aware, is about a writer who is dealing with crippling bout of writer's block and it's about his struggle to not only write, but deal with life while he can't. If you do check out the show, be forwarded that there is a lot of sex, drinking, and somewhat drug use. He also smokes like a chimney. But he also has a lot of redeeming factors about him. And it is honestly the most closest depiction of what being a writer is truly like. Because, at the end of the day, the thing that is most vital to writers is writing itself.
As a writer, there is nothing more intimidating than a blank screen and a blinking cursor. Ideally, it's an invitation to create, but it can be the most frightening and paralyzing thing you can see. There's a lot of doubt that fills the very essence of your being as you look at the possibility of either utter and complete failure or skyrocketing success. Or, the worst of it all-mediocrity. Because I, like every other writer, would rather be a terrible writer than a mediocre one. One who's craft is utter meaningless crap.
Being a writer is the loneliest type of magician there is. We create whole worlds; while we can barely live in our own. We're shut-ins by nature. We HAVE to be shut ins-the world is a noisy place and full of distraction. We're dysfunctional by default and the best of us are truly broken souls. Some of, hell probably most of the greats dealt with crippling depression and more than a few committed suicide. And addiction is something that runs just as rampant in the wordsmith community. We let the coping mechanisms take over; and most of the time we don't even realized it. Writing staves off the demons in our head for a while, but never permanently. Which is the other main drive of why we keep writing. And, to clear the air right now-no writer writes to get rich. No real writers, any way. The biggest and most universal addiction that writers have is writing itself. The flow of words as they materialize in front of us is almost a high. No, strike that, it is one. When a writer is "in the zone" we're getting high on our own craft and there's a fire inside us that allows us to feel alive once more. Which is why when we stop writing, the crushing weight of depression kicks back in. Hence the quote at the beginning of this post.
By nature, writers are difficult people to be around for an extended period of time. I am, at the very least self-actualized to both realized and admit this. I know how moody I can be; even if I don't realize at the time how difficult I'm being. Don't get me wrong-we're (for the most part) very down-to-earth and (somewhat) friendly people. Some of us (such as myself) are also extremely non-judgmental people you'll ever meet. But being around us for an extended period of time is about as good for you as being around untreated uranium. By nature we can be extremely self-destructive and it's hard to maintain a friendship that is constantly doubting themselves. One minute we can think we're the best writer that has ever put pen to paper and the next we want to set fire to everything we have ever written. Especially during the editing process.
Before you start thinking we're the most terrible people to ever walk this Earth, there's many redeemable qualities about us. First off, we LOVE our readers. I cannot emphasize that enough. To know that someone is reading our work (and hopefully is enjoying it) is the biggest thrill. The most gratifying experience is when someone says that they love our work. I'm not going to lie-we may be skeptical at first, but that's only because, as I mentioned before, we constantly doubt ourselves and our work. So, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, we love our readers far more than you love us. Someone told me recently that they loved something I had written and I wanted to hug the crap out of them.
Second is our quirks are pretty awesome. Writers love our tools. I'm a big quality pen freak. Quality pens are pretty much the best thing ever. Especially when you hear them scratch over quality paper and the magic begins again. And typewriters. Despite where technology has taken us, every writer should not only own a typewriter, but use it at least once a year. I personally do not own one, but I will as soon I have the ways and means to pick one up. Growing up, my family had an electric Smith Corona and the hum it made while it sat there waiting for the magic to begin; followed by the ecstasy educing sound of the pounding of each letter hitting the paper and the creation of each word. The clanking and rattling is the best sound in the world. As soon as I can, I'm going to find and pick up one of those Smith Coronas for myself. I honestly know and believe that I need one of those in my life.
Writers are also readers and we're always searching for amazing quotes. When I came across this Buzzfeed article the other day, I had to bookmark it immediately: http://www.buzzfeed.com/jenniferschaffer/i-am-i-am-i-am#.mtr7xMeBa The perfect turn of a phrase is what we live for. There is a strange electricity in the forming or reading of a perfect sentence. In fact, the one of the best is Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn; as every sentence is razor sharp and cuts to the bone. Not a single word is wasted and that is truly a rare thing to find in any novel. I honestly tip my hat to her.
Brevity, as you may have noticed, is not my strong suit. I realize that. Which is why I'm cutting this short. Writers have a strong tendency to go off on tangents and I'm a perfect example of this. To be blunt, I had the strong urge to write and this is what came from that. I will add, in closing, that I started watching the show Californiacation yesterday and the show struck pretty close to home for me. The show, if you're not aware, is about a writer who is dealing with crippling bout of writer's block and it's about his struggle to not only write, but deal with life while he can't. If you do check out the show, be forwarded that there is a lot of sex, drinking, and somewhat drug use. He also smokes like a chimney. But he also has a lot of redeeming factors about him. And it is honestly the most closest depiction of what being a writer is truly like. Because, at the end of the day, the thing that is most vital to writers is writing itself.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
The Thoughts That Cost Me Slumber
It's just after midnight and sleep is being elusive once again. You can't really blame the heat this time (although that has been the obvious culprit for the past month) and it's not for lack of exhaustion, either. No, once again, my brain has made the decision that sleep is unnecessary and that now is the time to revisit my recent past. Which leads me here, once again.
Today was a good day. I am still searching for another job, but I had an interview that went really well. Extremely well, actually. In fact, towards the end of it, both the women I was interviewing with and myself came to the same conclusion that the position I had originally applied for would not be a good fit for me and to try a different position with the same company instead. That kind of candor is extremely rare, but I have noticed that with every startup that I interview with, there is zero mystery as to what I would be getting myself into and complete transparency as to what the next step is (or if there will be one in the first place). After that, I went home and hit the hunt hard. Occupationally, it is far better to have too many options than none at all. And I am not one who sits idly-for anything. Patience may be a virtue, but it has never been one that I have possessed.
A friend of mine recommended recently that I start looking into anti-depressants. I explained to him that (other than cost) my primary concern is that I will become dependent, or even addicted to them. His concern for me is entirely valid and it's something that I have considered for myself. Which is why as soon as I have the means, I'm going to start taking St. John's Wort. I've done my research and it seems to be the best available option. Minimal risk of addiction, easily available, easily affordable, and it's an herb as opposed to a pill. Thus, minimal chance of side effects. I'm also going to be getting back into shape; and I've even been looking at exercises that will help me gain that ever elusive six pack. Even if I don't achieve it, building up my core will help my back out exponentially. Which will lesson my overall daily pain, thus improving both my physical and mental health. An all around win.
The state I live is is notorious for being extremely wet, yet I cannot remember the last time that it rained. We are going through a severe drought and fires are springing up everywhere. This worry alone is keeping me up at night. Temperatures have been much higher than normal and it's rare that we even have a cloudy day. At first, I would jokingly say "This is why I left Texas" and now I mean it. In fact, if anything, the area down there where I was living has gotten more rain than we have.
There's other things, many other things, that are going through my head right now; but I don't have it in me right now to divulge them. I will leave you with a bit of good news, though. It genuinely feels like my life is leaving the holding pattern it was in and things are going to be moving suddenly and quickly. I will also say that it looks like my desire to move to Seattle will once again become a reality before the end of the year. I don't want to go into details, but, while the present doesn't look the best, the future looks to be an amazing place.
Today was a good day. I am still searching for another job, but I had an interview that went really well. Extremely well, actually. In fact, towards the end of it, both the women I was interviewing with and myself came to the same conclusion that the position I had originally applied for would not be a good fit for me and to try a different position with the same company instead. That kind of candor is extremely rare, but I have noticed that with every startup that I interview with, there is zero mystery as to what I would be getting myself into and complete transparency as to what the next step is (or if there will be one in the first place). After that, I went home and hit the hunt hard. Occupationally, it is far better to have too many options than none at all. And I am not one who sits idly-for anything. Patience may be a virtue, but it has never been one that I have possessed.
A friend of mine recommended recently that I start looking into anti-depressants. I explained to him that (other than cost) my primary concern is that I will become dependent, or even addicted to them. His concern for me is entirely valid and it's something that I have considered for myself. Which is why as soon as I have the means, I'm going to start taking St. John's Wort. I've done my research and it seems to be the best available option. Minimal risk of addiction, easily available, easily affordable, and it's an herb as opposed to a pill. Thus, minimal chance of side effects. I'm also going to be getting back into shape; and I've even been looking at exercises that will help me gain that ever elusive six pack. Even if I don't achieve it, building up my core will help my back out exponentially. Which will lesson my overall daily pain, thus improving both my physical and mental health. An all around win.
The state I live is is notorious for being extremely wet, yet I cannot remember the last time that it rained. We are going through a severe drought and fires are springing up everywhere. This worry alone is keeping me up at night. Temperatures have been much higher than normal and it's rare that we even have a cloudy day. At first, I would jokingly say "This is why I left Texas" and now I mean it. In fact, if anything, the area down there where I was living has gotten more rain than we have.
There's other things, many other things, that are going through my head right now; but I don't have it in me right now to divulge them. I will leave you with a bit of good news, though. It genuinely feels like my life is leaving the holding pattern it was in and things are going to be moving suddenly and quickly. I will also say that it looks like my desire to move to Seattle will once again become a reality before the end of the year. I don't want to go into details, but, while the present doesn't look the best, the future looks to be an amazing place.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Just Breathe
So, there's a song out there by Telepopmusik called Breathe. If you're not familiar with it, it's an EDM song with beautiful female vocals. If you're not familiar with it, the refrain "Just breathe, just breathe, another day" is repeated over and over. It The whole song is melodically soothing and has a calming effect every time I hear it. Like releasing a long held breath that you didn't realize you were holding.
One of my bad habits that I will fully admit that I have is that I overthinking things. Lots of things. Most things, really. Not to the point where I'm indecisive about everything. But the point where I over-complicate things and instinctively do things the hard way. It's always how I've been and I know that is how I will always be. Which is why some of the absolute best advice I have ever gotten (and need to be reminded of with frequency) is "just breathe". Just stop. And breathe.
Now, before you think of me as a basket case (or perhaps, you've already have suspected this), I am capable of making decisions. I make loads of them. All the time. I listen to my gut and follow my instinct. In fact, most of the decisions I make on my feet and in the moment. I not only trust my intuition, but others rely on it as well. When I'm in the moment, I am capable of making massive, possibly even life changing decisions in seconds. There's been times when I have had to do just that.
But, it's the other times. The times when I'm entrenched in a situation and I'm not allowing myself to seek out outside influences to help me make a decision. The times when a problem went from having a simple solution to a complicated outcome. Or, rather, when my brain sees an ant hill and decides to start mountain building. When my brain takes a simple "yes" or "no" question and I have to evaluate all aspects of what I am being asked. Or when I set forth on a task that should only take a few minutes, but complications arise (for any given reason) and my brain enters problem solving mode. When I actually stop breathing and my own intellect becomes my own worst enemy. When I become my own worst enemy.
This is why music is so cathartic to me. I can shut out the rest of the world and shut myself out, as well. When my headphones are in, the world becomes a small and feasible. I stop over-analyzing every minute detail and just...do. I just breathe.
So, that's what this post is about. I'm passing on the advice to you. Just breathe. Just let go of everything you think you need to consider and listen to your gut. In through your nose, out through your mouth, and do.
One of my bad habits that I will fully admit that I have is that I overthinking things. Lots of things. Most things, really. Not to the point where I'm indecisive about everything. But the point where I over-complicate things and instinctively do things the hard way. It's always how I've been and I know that is how I will always be. Which is why some of the absolute best advice I have ever gotten (and need to be reminded of with frequency) is "just breathe". Just stop. And breathe.
Now, before you think of me as a basket case (or perhaps, you've already have suspected this), I am capable of making decisions. I make loads of them. All the time. I listen to my gut and follow my instinct. In fact, most of the decisions I make on my feet and in the moment. I not only trust my intuition, but others rely on it as well. When I'm in the moment, I am capable of making massive, possibly even life changing decisions in seconds. There's been times when I have had to do just that.
But, it's the other times. The times when I'm entrenched in a situation and I'm not allowing myself to seek out outside influences to help me make a decision. The times when a problem went from having a simple solution to a complicated outcome. Or, rather, when my brain sees an ant hill and decides to start mountain building. When my brain takes a simple "yes" or "no" question and I have to evaluate all aspects of what I am being asked. Or when I set forth on a task that should only take a few minutes, but complications arise (for any given reason) and my brain enters problem solving mode. When I actually stop breathing and my own intellect becomes my own worst enemy. When I become my own worst enemy.
This is why music is so cathartic to me. I can shut out the rest of the world and shut myself out, as well. When my headphones are in, the world becomes a small and feasible. I stop over-analyzing every minute detail and just...do. I just breathe.
So, that's what this post is about. I'm passing on the advice to you. Just breathe. Just let go of everything you think you need to consider and listen to your gut. In through your nose, out through your mouth, and do.
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