Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Getting Back on Track With My Brain

These past three weeks, I've been having a pretty difficult time getting back, or coming to terms with the side of my brain that connects itself with my writing style and voice, mostly because it kind of went away for the past three weeks, and that was pretty terrifying once I found out. I was at a music camp, and just recently came back three days ago. And I found out this dangerous, disheartening, interesting thing about me. I can't write in unfamiliarity. I just can't.

I lived with a roomate, and from the beginning of my life it's always caused me paranoia having one other person in the same room with me watching me write. It's almost like disrupting all of my thoughts. Kind of life brain stuttering. I can't keep it under control.

So for a few weeks there, I wasn't able to write something that felt like I was writing it. I barely wrote a real sentence. I stopped thinking of ideas and basically stopped thinking, because at a new music camp, miles, states away from home, you're not thinking to much, but feeling, if you know what I mean. I was also worried about meeting new people, working with amazing musicians, getting along with my roomate. Luckily, it all worked out in the end, and I was able to get used to the place. I started to write more freely by the third week, once I got comfortable, but there was something inside me that still felt guarded, and I still felt like my brain was being choked from being itself.

And then I knew what I was missing. I was missing the roots of my life. My entire existence and my source of thoughts and myself. And that was my family. Yeah. I realized that I needed them to write. To write real stuff. I needed my home.

That's why I can NEVER, EVER write in public. The public is always a new unknown. I need a place I'm familiar with, people I'm familiar with to write, and even while I was away, I was completely unfamiliar with myself, because I was too shy to be myself in the first two weeks. I liked being alone. Plus there was a great view of the mountains and the rest of the little downtown city from my room.

The thing is, I'm just trying to slowly stumble my way through writing again. Thinking up ideas and understanding my opinions and all that stuff. These following blog entries are going to be more bad than usual, but it's going to help me find my writing again. It's going to inspire me again. It's going to make me feel myself again. I really need that now, because I'm more lost than usual these days, but being back home feels easily natural, so I think I'll be okay.

That's it for today.

Random thought of the day: Pears rhyme with bears.

The TIME Article that Disappointed

Today, I decided to go on TIME online. (And the following monstrosity is what came out of it)
It's not a new event in my life. I do have my own moments of trying intellectualism, but the thing is, today: I was disappointed.

And it's not even a good thing to be disappointed about, but oh it's going to be a blog entry.

So as I was rolling my eyes through the screen, I stumble upon an article titled, "The Problem With Celebrities Who Tell Us How To Live".

Now, every human makes first thought judgement instinctively, it can't be helped, but it can be put aside. So when I read that title, I was thinking, "WTF. The problem with celebrities telling us how to live is that they even think they should be telling us how to live, because the average human life no longer coincides with the glitz and terror of the average celebrity life. We are no longer EQUAAAAALS."

Yeah. But that's not exactly the case. That's not the case at all. Maybe there is just no case...because I forgot it at home, now I'm going to miss my plane just to go back and get it, and then get fired, and then the world will en---OKAY, that's enough, back to the point.

Again, the article title was "The Problem With Celebreties Who Tell Us How To Live". Perhaps the entire article should have stopped there and we all could have our own little inner bursts of rage.

See, when I think of a celebrity, I think of the haunting trails of paparazzi, the endless Loreal Shampoo commercials, the rejuvenated, perfect skin, diamond shiny faces of Gwenyth Paltrow, Jennifer Lopez, Mario Lopez, Justin Bieber, Demi Lovato, all those boring people, plus the added flash of the cameras. Can't have a celebrity without the cameras am I right?

I mean, why do they think they want to suggest life mantras to us, when their life is just not like ours anymore. They live in a world of constant attention, required beauty, weekly haircuts, flashing cameras.

Every time I see a celebrity cook book, I think, "What is this life? Why the freak do I want Gwenyth Paltrow telling me how to eat? I can do whatever I want hoe and eat a freaking cornbread if I WANT TO.

When I started reading the TIME article, it went into this statistical rant that just wasn't what I was looking for. I was looking for pointless rant regarding the difference between the everyday person's life, and a celebrities life.

The thing about celebrities, is that they go out and get themselves branded a celebrity, or are forced into becoming a celebrity because of whatever reason. Why can't they just be really great actors, or musicians, or singers.

Another thing that confuses me, is the fact that some of these celebrities by the most expensive, bat-shit crazy huge houses on the planet, and then the next day go to charity event for cancer, or some third world country.

But what I don't understand most is when they say things like, "Live life to the fullest". I'm living my life sir, to it's fullest current capability of breath, okay? Also, you're a hoe. Just kidding...

I respect and admire a lot of known people, for the beautiful stories that they tell, the music that they make, the stands that they advocate for. I don't respect the celebrity life, because that's not really in the range of what it's like to have goals, or what's it's like to have doubts or insecurities anymore. That life mainly concentrates on good shampoo and rejuvenating creams, and parties, and also required make-up always, wish is a definite no-no. It doesn't seem like a nice life, even though it's made out to be. It seems fake, so that's really the problem with celebrities telling us how to live our lives. Because they're own lives are just not real anymore, as sad as that is to say. When one reaching that point, or even feeling in life, the feeling of a celebrity, it's hard to return back to the ground because your head can get so big with the attention you're just way too high up off the ground. I see that in a lot of girls and guys at my school, who really believe that they are better than everyone else just because they have a seemingly pretty face and a group of people to hang out with on the weekend. Except they're not that pretty and the people they hang out with are lame, at least in my opinion.

The good thing is, they're aren't really that many celebrities anymore these days, or ones that I know about, because people who reach high levels of fame don't want that life. Who would?

I don't want to come across as envious of this life, because honestly I would think celebrities would be envious of our lives. We have so much more of a challenge controlling our weights, reaching our goals, discovering what we want, going through constant doubt and insecurity. As terrible as this life is, it's freaking amazing, loving something with complete sincerity and accomplishing things not for attention, but for the love of creating something new to add into this world. Can you imagine Kim K telling me to work hard and accomplish my dreams? No.

I don't think anyone could stand being a celebrity forever. It looks tiring, annoying, and pointless. Actors don't become actors to become famous, at least the real good ones. Musicians don't become musicians to become super famous. I mean, people always want to be recognized, sure, not all people, but most want to be recognized for doing the work that they love and sharing it with others. And a few get that deserved recognition, because they worked for it, and they had the talent for it.

I'm kind of done with this topic though. Seriously, I find no point anymore in even talking about celebrities. Why did I in the first place...I don't know.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

TCWT July Blog Chain: The Lame Origin of My Writing Life

Oh man. I'm hours late on writing this, but technically, it's still the 13th...but still, there's no excuses. Anyways, this prompt for this months blog chain is so, so, so...I don't know. My writing journey beginnings are so lame and artificial, because at first, the only reason I wanted to be a writer was because I got really good grades on all my structural exam essays in elementary school. And then once high school started all those ambitious accomplishments of getting the best grades on all my essays went down the drain, because high school writing apparently does not go along well with my writing style. Oh, by the way, the prompt is as follows:

“What’s one thing you wish you knew when you started writing?” 

Yeah, so as I said before, my journey as a writer truly, phenomenally started the moment I got that perfect 4 on my fourth grade essay about a park that I apparently really really liked. The passionate origins, am I right? 

Yeah, well, I was mega lame then (still am) and had no idea how to really think or feel with both my brain and my heart or what made up the world and the impact writers made to the world. To be fair, I was in elementary school, and all you're trying to do in elementary school is be a kid and have fun. Even breathing isn't a priority because in elementary school you don't quite have that monumental realization of the significance breathing oxygen into your very lungs is to your life. And then my dad taught me about success, and Harvard, and goals, and a future, and then little young me became obsessed with being the smartest, bestest, straight A's kid in class. So when I figured out that writing was my most likely available leeway into success, at the age of 9, yes 9, I decided I would become a writer, ONLY because I got that perfect score on that one elementary school essay. 

Besides all that mumble jumbo above, the POINT that I'm trying to make is, that I wish I knew, or acknowledged what writing made me feel, and the impact it made in my life, and the impact it could make in others. In other words, I wish I knew that I loved writing when I starting writing, rather than thinking I only loved writing because my fourth grade teacher said I was a good writer...on one essay... about the stereotypical park around the corner. 

Actually, I really loved that park, and it wasn't around the corner. It was in downtown Austin; comparable to the greatest sections of Central Park. So, before I even realized it, writing and stories and words and thoughts, all that mesmorizing confusing stuff meant so much to me, but I never really thought about that when I first started writing. 

And I guess that because when you first start to write, it almost comes instinctively, so there's no time to think about how much it really means to you, or how huge a part it will become of your life. And then you enter the deep dark horridly revolutionary stages of teenage-hood, where you actually start to develop an independent, opinionated brain capable of making both stupid and not so stupid decisions, and you realize, writing is the most insanely freeing, awesome, LEGEND-wait for it-DARY thing ever, because now you come to terms with weirdness. You come to terms with reality a little but more, and you come to terms with failure, success, love, bad things, good things, human feelings, and you realize that writing, or really, storytelling, is how you express all that, AKA the feels. 

So yeah, I wish I knew what writing meant to me earlier. What I do like to look back on are the glimpses of moments where I'm at my desk, writing in my own  little notebook, 6 years young, about whatever I was thinking, because I realized that I could do that. When you begin writing, it's really all a series of scenes that go kind of like this:

Brain: "I'm feeling something weird right now. And I really want to do something with that. Hey! Look, there's a pencil and paper. Now putting thoughts on paper, because I can."
(Minutes later)
Brain: "I like this thing. I think I want to keep on putting words on paper, with a pen or pencil.....forever. Because I can."

I like writing. It makes me feel human again. I don't do well in real life as a functioning human being when I take unintended hiatuses from writing. Like, if I go one day without writing something, I don't even know what life is and try my best to maintain a sort of composure that is socially acceptable among the human race. Keeping it all inside doesn't work for me. I don't think it works for anyone. Even God can't hold all the feels inside, and as a result came: The Bible. God/Jesus: Probably the most famous writers/storytellers ever. And then Shakespeare. 

I'm going off topic. Sorry. But I think I got the message through...maybe. I don't know. The thing is, I know and understand what writing means to me now, and that's a good thing.

Check out all the other blogs this month. They're probably most likely a lot cooler.

July 2014 blog chain prompt/schedule:
Prompt: “What’s one thing you wish you knew when you started writing?” 
24th – – The topic for August’s blog chain will be announced.

Thursday, June 26, 2014

World Cup Woes........

I got to say.
I've never experienced a more intense, excruciatingly painful, inspiring, disheartening, WORLD CUP.

But I guess it's because I feel like I actually understand just how much this world cup means to these soccer players, and watching The U.S national team playing, becoming familiar with the players representing my country, it's a little overwhelming. Especially sitting around the living room, with my mom and dad, my sister, even my dog, all anxiously waiting for that one legendary moment of ecstasy that comes from watching the United States score a goal.

It's awesomely beautiful.

I mean, it's really weird for me to say, and speak so passionately about soccer, because I'm not an athletic type person, but in the heat of the moment, competition drives me to destructive emotions. It's kind of fun actually, feeling so jumpy, because I don't get so excited about any other sport like I do watching soccer. I think if the U.S wins, or even makes it close to the finals, I might cry.

I mean, it's neat to feel like your part of a country who's at the World Cup, and who most did not even expect would do so well, but they have!

Still, I wish they won today against Germany. It would have been awesome. I really can't wait until the next game with the U.S. I mean, literally, my insides are going a little crazy just to watch the next game, and they haven't even announced the team they'll be playing with.

But also, I want to say, I love screaming at my T.V. It's fun and something I never do, except of course, when watching soccer, but mostly when watching the U.S play.

I usually yell about Bradley, who makes me mad and makes me question his spot on the U.S team, and them praise Beasley some more because he's cool and fast. He probably impresses me the most on the team. Also Dempsey. It's so weird that I actually now they're names now. I spent 30 minutes to possibly, hopefully not, one hour of my day Monday researching about the FIFA world cup. Not good. AHHHHHH. I have so much to get ready for but the World Cup is seriously distracting.

Okay, I think I got my feelings about the World Cup, or really the US soccer team, out of my system now. I feel better. Yes, yes I do. But I still wish won or at least tied against Germany today. Oh, and Howard, the goalie, is the bomb, even though he missed that one goal, BARELY, that came suddenly after he hit another goal. Seriously, cred's to him. Probably the best one on the team.

Friday, June 20, 2014

Is it Okay to Fangirl Excessively for an entire day? Because that's what happened everyday this week

Fangirl object/creation of desire NUMBER 1:

The 100
YES. This has officially become as of late one of my favorite and exciting shows right now. I mean, it's not a show that inspires me or one that I actually think is brilliant, but this show is really intriguing and exciting, and it just wins me over every single episode. Important to note, it's set in a post apocalyptic Earth and space, and starts out by sending 100 teenagers back to earth from a space center, well, in space. And to be honest, a lot of my desire for this show relies on Jasper, played by the awesome Devon Bostick, and Monty, played by Christopher Larking, courtesy of IMDB of course. But I like Larkin, and I like Monty, a lot. There so cute, and they bring out the best parts of the show to me. Clearly you can tell the type of characters I favor in shows like these. BUT, let's not forget the beautiful, beautiful Bellamy. Everytime this human being comes on screen, you have to look at him. So nice looking. It's too much. Here are some more wonderful GIF's:
Beautiful. Notice Monty creeping up in the background. Entertaining. 

The only bad, kind of horrifying part about this show...The mutated animals that kind of have two heads, but really have one and a half head, that unpleasantly appear on the screen. Pretty scarring. 

Other than that, this show is pretty fangirl worthy my friends. More than that to be honest. It's a decent show that I'll actually be watching next season on TV. Yeah, that's right. The TV that nobody uses anymore because of Netflix, because Netflix is better, more importantly, without commercials. I don't even know what commercials are anymore. The Perks of Being a Netflix Subscriber. 
There needs to be a blog posts about that. Also The Disadvantages of Being a Netflix Subscriber.

I need to appreciate fangirling a little more. It's a natural human instinct/guilty pleasure I can't help but express in some way. I'll try to limit it though, and hopefully post more quality rants/stuff. Maybe. Unfortunately, you will be experiencing my K-pop fangirling entry one day. I promise you; it will happen. 

Weird Letters to My Sister

So, for some reason, at 2 in the morning, I decided to start writing fictional letters to my non-fictional, AKA real, sister in the case that we had never seen each other face to face, yet we live directly across from each other, but lived in a household with insane parents who forever forbid us from having any connection with each other. Supposedly, we both have schedules from when we can leave our room and when we have to stay inside, because if not, our parents would murder us. Just kidding. But for some reason this story/idea popped into my head, even though it sounds really bad and incomplete, I think I might continue writing it, but better. Yes, better. But it still won't be good, but I'll enjoy writing it anyways. I didn't write out the full names quite yet. Don't know if I'm ready to release my real name just yet. Maybe in 5 years. Kidding. I will discreetly add it into one of my blog entries though...maybe.
Day 100

Dear Ari,
Ernest Hemingway said one should write in the earliest of mornings, from 6:00 AM to noon; a total of six hours. How about from 12:00 AM to 6:00 AM. That shouldn’t be so bad.
No. Impossible.
The parents won’t let me do that.
Have you ever noticed how parents are like the law of the household, and we are the citizens. The very small population of citizens… It’s like the parents are walking, talking books of law roaming suspiciously around the house, except they have nothing on the legendary-ness of the U.S Constitution, because at least the Constitution has human rights, you know?
There’s no way out of this hellhole friend.
At least we have each other…kind of?


Day 102

Dear Ari,

Do you think the parents will ever let us meet?
Remember in my last letter, when I said we have each other, but only kind of? I don’t really have your human body with me, that’s being literal, but I do have your thoughts, you know? And it’s the brain that really makes up the human being, not the actual body. The body is just a way for humans to communicate.
To be honest, I think if God had just created us as walking brains, we would have developed some form of telekinesis, and we wouldn’t have any insecurity, cause then we’d all be fugly, and looks wouldn’t matter so much anymore, because we would be, well, brains with legs; walking brains. Life would be good that way.
I still wish I could see your face, so then your brain could be closer to mine and I could feel your thoughts, instead of just reading them and hearing them in my head. But to be honest, I can feel them, roaming the vast dusty emptiness in my brain, and its nice, because I don’t really have anyone else to talk to.

You know what this reminds me of? You’ve got Mail. The movie with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan and that dog. I never understood the importance of that dog’s role in the movie. It’s kind of useless, but then again, why not add in the most adorable dog known to movie screens everywhere other than Lassie? I don’t think people gave enough credit to the dog’s adorableness. It makes me sad. I guess that’s all I have in my head right now add all I feel like writing. Sorry for the never-ending lack of entertainment. I’ll try to write better letters to you. But for some reason I’m not feeling anything today. I’m a human, I can’t help the unconscientious vacant feeling of nothing. Bam. Now there’s a quality sentence. Maybe not. Can you tell how insecure and indecisive I am yet? Because I am.


I like Wordpress Now Better Blogger...Sorry Not Sorry

Get ready for some senseless, worthless A-class blogging.

So, a few days ago, I spent too much time creating a Wordpress blog, and this time, I finally knew what the heck I was doing. My background is awesome. A lot better than the flashing curved lines designing this less than favorable blog theme.

It's kind of stupid really.

Not the blog theme, because I actually kind of still like my Blogger theme of colorful curvy lines, but what's stupid is the fact that I care a little to much about the blog design. But looking at it in a certain way, it can be an important asset in the feel and character of your blog. I don't know. I want to relate to the blog theme, as terrible as that sounds and is to say. I want a theme or background that fits me, that makes me feel joyful inside for certain reasons.

So let me show you my freaking awesome Wordpress background for those of you that don't care at all:

Pretty awesome right. Maybe not for you, but every time I look at it I feel like I created a masterpiece, but that's not true. It's just seeing so much awesomeness at one time overwhelms me. Like Comic Con does to any proper human being. 

I might try to make this my background on Blogger, because to be sincere, I will always feel more comfortable with my sweet blogger than my secondhand Wordpress. It's like they're both my spawn/children, and Blogger's my favorite. Unfit motherhood is the way to go. Not really. Well then, I guess I'm done talking about senseless background themes, and I shall see you all in a new dawn my friends. 

Random Statement of the Day: I wish I was half Vulcan, like Spock. That would be a beautifully complicated life. I also wish I was J.J Abrams.