Thursday, July 14, 2016

Multiverse

Multiverse

Across the boundary, unseen worlds
All that we know, some never conceived of
Some like our own, but not
A man named Jacob with black hair, or blonde
Instead of the brown I know and love
A man named Brian, with two sons or daughters
Instead of one of each
Others, fantastic, unlike our own
Hogwarts, Panem
Narnia, Middle-Earth
Mushroom Kingdom, Cybertron
The worlds we wish we could see
With our own eyes, not merely through a medium
Extraordinary worlds, found and brought to life in our own

But some are very small
So small as not to be seen by any
Floating in unknown existence
Until someone becomes lost in them
And creates their world

I have seen...
A ghost and a boy, fighting monsters in a small town
Gods walking among humans in a reality similar to our own
Creatures from faraway planets, connected by a man clutching a pen and a notebook
A young woman soaring high above a desert town alongside a friendly djinn
A boy standing in a temple before kami, yokai, and other such spirits, wielding a bladeless sword
A colorful being brightening up a monochrome city
An actor bridging the gap between his worlds through his imagination
A fleet of humans and robots fighting side by side
A famous hero, adopting a young, lonely boy
Stuffed animal biker gangs
...and many more to come

Unknown to all but I
Their stories untold, in unknown existence
And I will bring them light
And tell others of their world
So they may become lost in them
As I have

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

An adult feeling

I really, really can't wait for college classes to start up again.

I know the kid in me would hate me for saying this, but I guess I should expect such changes in perspective as part of growing up. I'm getting really bored of hanging around all summer, and it's starting to make me depressed again. My hobbies really aren't keeping me as engaged as I'd hoped, and I still don't have my driver's license (here's hoping for a change in that sometime in the near future, though). There's just not enough for me to do that isn't lounging around online all day.

IUPUI can't get here soon enough.

Thursday, July 7, 2016

A weird night

My dad and I just got back from watching Weird Al Yankovic performing live in Indy. He performed a lot more of his older songs than I was expecting, but they were all really good so I can't complain. It was just as wonderful and hysterical as I thought it would be.

Monday, July 4, 2016

Happy Independence Day!

Happy Fourth of July, everybody!

I just got back from walking the Firecracker 6K in Indianapolis, and it didn't rain once! Worth waking up at 6:45 for.

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Gray days

I'm starting to feel listless again - the way I used to feel back in my sophomore year. I was hoping the feeling would stay away this summer, but I guess I haven't been making much of an effort to keep busy. I got a job, or something you could call one, but it's a bit too irregular to keep me out of the house the way I'd prefer.

Guess I'll have to rededicate my efforts to committing to other hobbies besides the Internet. At least I'll be getting a new Brandon Sanderson book in the mail tomorrow - that should help. But most of all, I really can't wait for college to start up again - IUPUI is too far away from me right now.

Friday, June 24, 2016

Concept Corner #14

Concept Corner #14 - Outer Rim High
The story of the main actor of a famous TV show and the struggles he faces in his career alongside his coworkers, which he transforms through the lens of his imagination into high-intensity action sequences not unlike the ones on his show. 

I got the idea of a story about the making of a TV show from the movie Bolt, and the main character (name currently undecided) came from my experiences with Asperger's. He's an actor who plays the main character on a hit TV show in-universe - think Buffy the Vampire Slayer with the supernatural elements traded for futuristic, sci-fi ones - and like me, he's autistic. He faces challenges in his daily life - both related to the show and not - that some neurotypical people might not be burdened by, and he uses his imagination to change them into scenes and stories that might belong on his show, which allows him to approach them from a better vantage point.

I love using my imagination - it's a big reason why I want to be an author - and I think writing about a person who embraces his imagination so freely would be a fun experience for me.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Storms

It stormed like the dickens down here in Zionsville today. Anyone else get some of the same?

I actually really like stormy days, when I get to stay inside and watch the rain beat down on the ground. Sometimes the clouds are so thick that it becomes dark outside, and it all feels so oddly cozy. It's a simple feeling, but it's one I really enjoy.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Two birds in one

So last Christmas, I got a couple of presents that I thought would make for good hobbies; an adult coloring book from my parents, and an artist's set from my grandparents. At the time, it seemed as though they were things I could really get into, but I kept running into problems that made me not really want to make use of either of them. Coloring in the book took too long and made my hand hurt, which was not enjoyable, and I could never think of anything worth creating with the artist's loft. As a result, they sort of both faded into the back of my mind where the other unimportant things lie. 

I've been looking for more hobbies to take the place of computer time recently, and I think I've found something worth doing. By combining the watercolors from the artist's set with the coloring book, I can create a much more enjoyable experience than either of them separately provided me. It's much less tedious, it's easier on my hand, and I still get to make use of both of them. Maybe I'll post pictures up here every now and then. 

It's nice when you can make use of old things, isn't it?

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Off the reels

I like movies. I don't see a lot of them these days, although several days ago I saw The Jungle Book and I thought it was really good. Another point for Disney.

But right now I have another movie in mind; the upcoming epic fantasy Warcraft, based on the hit video game series by Blizzard. I first heard about it around the end of 2015 and I couldn't wait for it - not because I'm a Warcraft fan but because I'm a sucker for fantasy, video games, and special effects. It comes out in about two weeks, and to my dismay the early reviews have not been promising. I've seen scores as low as a 3/10, and others around 6.5, which is admittedly really good for a video game movie (to be fair, these are professional critics, and I've seen several casual reviews on IMDB that are much higher).

Don't get me wrong, I understand the importance of forming my own opinion on things instead of holding up others' opinions. Take Jurassic World, for example: apparently a lot of people didn't think it was good, but I really liked it. Not enough for a second viewing, but I enjoyed the movie.

But as I said, I like movies, and I want the ones I spend my time and money on to be both enjoyable and good. I've seen plenty of horrible movies experience success and even sequels (Alvin and the Chipmunks, anyone?) and the sad truth (or maybe I'm just cynical) is that seeing a movie and complaining about it online still means that you paid money to see it. With that in mind, I feel like every time I see a bad movie, regardless of my own opinion on it, I'm endorsing the further production of bad movies. I've held that view for a while now, and it's made enjoying movies a lot harder because now I feel like I'm doing an injustice by seeing them.

I guess it'd be nice if I had somebody to talk to about this. I do have a friend who's a big movie buff, but ideally I'd appreciate a plurality of viewpoints for this, Maybe at IUPUI I'll find a movie club or something, but for now I guess I'll have to be satisfied with venting on my blog. I hope it was enjoyable, at least.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Past Nonperformance, Future Results

They say you should write what you know. I can understand that - applied experience gives a story and its characters life, depth. People can tell if a story is flat, and what kind of writer wants that?

But what if you haven't had that many experiences, by choice or by absence of opportunity?

It's something I've been worrying about recently. I've got a lot of ideas I want to turn into stories, but not a lot has happened to me that I can draw from for these specific stories. Others, maybe, but not many the ones I have in mind now. Elegy, one of the ones I've been holding forefront for a while now, is an exception; it's about regret, and life after high school, both of which are things I know. I think that's part of why it's so much more concrete in my head than others. But even it isn't fully covered by my experiences - unlike the main characters, I have both of my parents, and I've never been a foster child, a police officer, a ghost, or a homosexual, among other things.

I draw a lot of my inspiration for stories and characters from other stories; I experience them to understand how to write them into my own tales. But what if that's an inadequate substitute, doomed to fail because I have neither the chance nor understanding of how to gather the relevant experiences? I could talk to people with those experiences, but there's only so much I can gather from that as well.

Times like this, I really wish I knew an author I could talk to about things, get some solid advice. What do you readers out there think?

Concept Corner #13

Concept Corner #13 - Mirrors
In a futuristic city, there are stories drifting about a mysterious figure - a phantom thief, who broadcasts his heists to all who will watch and yet escapes capture without effort whilst stealing nothing. The police want to capture him. The public wants to know more, to be entertained. But nobody knows the thief's true motives, or the truth behind his targets. 

Among the thief's fans is a young reporter who places him atop a pedestal, and who has made it her life goal to uncover the truth about his pursuits. A chance encounter gives her the opportunity she's sought after for so long, but in turn pulls her into a journey of revenge and danger that she may not be prepared for. 

Never meet your heroes...

Despite what that description may imply, this is not to be a Twilight-esque romance story. The ages don't match up, and their personalities would ensure any romance is a stillborn one. Their relationship will be complex and changing, but romance is not in the cards between them.

I was inspired to write a phantom thief story after watching this anime, Dimension W, that features one such character. I get a lot of my inspiration this way; I see something in another story that I think is cool or intriguing, and I spin it into a story of my own. I'm not sure if that makes me unoriginal, but it's worked pretty well for me so far.

Saturday, May 14, 2016

A high-class night

So I just got back from a pretty fun evening/night with my dad and my grandparents. We went down to Indianapolis and ate at the Weber Grill - sort of an upscale bar and restaurant. I got the meatloaf, which was quite appetizing. Very flavorful and tender. The broccoli was a little harder than I usually like, though. I'm eating a leftover pretzel roll as I write this, and it's just as good as it was in the restaurant.

After dinner, we went to the theater and watched The Mousetrap, this old stage show by Agatha Christie herself. I enjoyed it quite a lot, as I've always enjoyed her works. I did sort of guess the end ahead of time (at least, the murderer), but it was fun regardless.

It's nice, being able to do things like this every now and then. I know some people aren't so lucky.

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Keep Moving Forward

Every now and then I think back to some point in my life, usually high school, and I sort of wish I could relive that part of my life. Except then, when I actually think about it, I can't help but wonder why I feel that way, because knowing what I know now that part of my life seems unfulfilling.

I used to be in an anime club when I was in high school, and every now and then I'll find something online that reminds me of those days and I get a little wistful, but I don't actually want to go back to those days. I didn't have much drive back in high school, I wasn't particularly close to anybody I went to school with, I did pretty well in class - but I do well in class these days too. So I'm not sure why I feel the way I do.

I wonder what it would be like to be one of those people who feels that the best parts of their life have passed them by, that it's all downhill from here. I think that's really scary.

I mean, I'm pretty young yet, and I'm sure when I get old and my body fails on me that I'll start pining at least a little bit for the "good old days," but I think there's a lot to look forward to in adult life as well. Having a job I love, being able to drive, having more freedom than before, getting married... I'm really hoping to get married someday. It's funny - adult life's so much more complex than being a kid, but I think I'll be happier as an adult than a child. I'm excited for that complexity - not sure why.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Food for thought

I don't enjoy the idea of fate. It seems so defeatist.

Yes, you're probably going to meet a lot of people worth knowing in life, and I'll admit it's kind of humbling to think that safe of those relationships were meant to be. But what about all of the bad shit that gets thrown your way? Was it all meant to happen to you? Was there truly no way you or anyone else could have prevented it? Is there really only one person you can ever become? I don't like to think that way, and if somebody tries to use the idea to justify their bad choices - to duck responsibility - then that's even worse.

I prefer to think it's up to us to make good things happen, to meet people who matter. It's... maybe a little bleak to believe that we're not getting backup, but I think there's something freeing to it as well. It really is up to us.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

A song for the weather

The heavy rain outside reminds me of this. Figured I'd share it.

Poetry Response #3

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
By William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
   That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
   A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
   And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
   Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
   Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A Poet could not but be gay,
   In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
   In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
   Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

            This poem doesn’t spend much time trying to be more than what it is on the surface, and its simple origin – inspired by a walk Wordsworth and his sister went on around Glencoyne Bay in Ullswater – matches the simple nature of the poem. It’s about a person, a lone wanderer, who discovers a host of beautiful golden daffodils beside a lake during their wandering. They don’t fully realize the gift that this patch of daffodils has granted them, but later their thoughts flash back to the sight, which fills them with joy and continues to do so whenever they think about it from then on.
            I can identify with the narrator in that I too tend to become lonely and wander from time to time. This isn’t always a bad thing; I myself enjoy having private time when I want it, because it gives me time to think more freely about things I care about. The way the narrator mentions floating “on high o’er vales and hills” could imply that they view themselves as somewhat above everybody else – perhaps a bit of a cliché when it comes to poets. There are times when I feel the same way for some reason.
            In the final stanza, the narrator notes that when they feel pensive, they think back on the crowd of daffodils and their heart fills with pleasure once more. I’m the same way here as well; I’m fond of retreating into my mind and daydreaming when I’m bored or distressed. It cheers me up a little bit, just like thinking of the dancing daffodils does for Wordsworth. 

Poetry Response #2

Little Orphant Annie
By James Whitcomb Riley
"Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay,
An’ wash the cups an’ saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away,
An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ sweep,
An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board-an’-keep;
An’ all us other childern, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun
A-list’nin’ to the witch-tales ‘at Annie tells about,
An’ the Gobble-uns ‘at gits you
             Ef you
                Don’t
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
Onc’t they was a little boy wouldn’t say his prayers,--
So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an’ his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An’ when they turn’t the kivvers down, he wasn’t there at all!
An’ they seeked him in the rafter-room, an’ cubby-hole, an’ press,
An’ seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an’ ever’wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found was thist his pants an’ roundabout--
An’ the Gobble-uns’ll git you
             Ef you
                Don’t
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
An’ one time a little girl ‘ud allus laugh an’ grin,
An’ make fun of ever’one, an’ all her blood an’ kin;
An’ onc’t, when they was “company," an’ ole folks was there,
She mocked ‘em an’ shocked ‘em, an’ said she didn’t care!
An’ thist as she kicked her heels, an’ turn’t to run an’ hide,
They was two great big Black Things a-standin’ by her side,
An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ‘fore she knowed what she’s about!
An’ the Gobble-uns’ll git you
             Ef you
                Don’t
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
An’ little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is blue,
An’ the lamp-wick sputters, an’ the wind goes woo-oo!
An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray,
An’ the lightnin’-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parents, an’ yer teachers fond an’ dear,
An’ churish them ‘at loves you, an’ dry the orphant’s tear,
An’ he’p the pore an’ needy ones ‘at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns’ll git you
             Ef you
                Don’t
                   Watch
                      Out!"
            I first heard this poem in, I think, third or fourth grade; my class did a unit of study on James Whitcomb Riley and his poems, cultimating in a field trip to his old home in Greenfield. As a result, I remembered this poem pretty well when we read it in class, and hearing it again brought back a lot of memories. It still means pretty much the same thing it meant to me back in elementary school, although I understand the first stanza a little better now; I think back then I wasn’t sure if the goblins came for Annie, but now I know that was just part of her story.
            The aspect of the poem that I notice first upon reading it is the dialect. A little research has told me that this dialect is apparently nineteenth-century Hoosier dialect, which would fit in with the time and place where it was composed. It gives the poem a very antiquated and rustic feel, which in turn makes it sound more authentic. Combined with other elements such as the meter and the emphasized refrain ending each stanza, this makes the poem quite fun to read aloud.
            Also, I think the poem lends itself well to the imagination. The descriptions of the house in the first stanza and the night in the final stanza feel old and homey, and conjure an image of an old house from the nineteenth century – perhaps Riley’s house itself. In the second and third stanzas, the “Gobble-uns” are left purposefully undescribed outside of being “great big Black Things” that can take you away from anywhere without a trace, which allows for a much more frightening image than an actual description could provide. When I was young I remember getting a chill in my spine when I read it, and these days it still makes me grin.

Poetry Response #1

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night
By Dylan Thomas
"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

            This is a poem of passion. It’s not hard at all to see that; the title itself is a call to not lay down and accept the bitter certainty of death. Instead, Thomas calls for those nearing their end to “burn and rave at close of day,” to let their flickering souls flare and repel the darkness threatening to retake them. Even in this first stanza, there’s an underlying current of anger that shines through in the word choice – rave at close of day, rage against the dying of the light.
            Throughout the poem, I notice the imagery of light being invoked repeatedly. Burning and raving in old age, words that fork lightning, singing the sun in flight, and eyes blazing like meteors. In every case, this imagery is applied to the dying – it’s they who burn and rave and sing, their words that fork lightning and their eyes like meteors. Moreover, all of these instances of imagery invoke a similar feeling of anger and injustice toward the encroaching night. Light and anger come together to create an image of a flame that drives the darkness back.
            The last stanza, specifically the first two lines, confused me a little bit. The usage of the term father left me wondering if the speaker was referring to their actual father, or to the Lord who bears that title. I believe it refers to their actual father, because the speaker seems to be instructing them to rage against their coming death (which wouldn’t make sense if they were speaking to God). Even here, the feeling of anger is evident, as the speaker tells their father to shed fierce tears from their sad height, to rage as so many good and wise men do. 

Monday, April 18, 2016

Seeing a Distinguished Speaker

About an hour ago I went to this event on campus: Seeking Bipartisanship, a lecture by Ray Lahood, former U.S. Secretary of Transportation. It wasn't very long, and it was kind of interesting. LaHood talked about how a lot of times things happen despite partisanship because there are people who want to get things done and will do what it takes to make that happen. He spoke a little about how there's a lot of voter unrest because Congress doesn't seem to have that attitude these days - that's why so many people are voting for Trump.

Now, I don't intend to support Trump come Election Day - not with all the violence and hatred he incites - but I can kind of understand now why people admire his drive. He says he'll get things done, and people appreciate that. I figure I can respect that without liking the rest of him.

Did any of you guys go? What did you think?

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Springtime: RISING

It's a really nice day out there, isn't it?

I don't really have much else to say, just figured I'd bring that to attention. I think it's safe to say that shorts and t-shirts season has begun (*knocks on wood*).

I was out for a walk earlier today, and I heard music coming from the football stadium; maybe the marching band was practicing? It reminded me of the summer I spent in my high school's marching band. It was... well, it was a commitment. We went nine-to-five some days, no lie, but it was pretty fun. We got to travel to other high schools to compete, and saw a bunch of other marching bands in the process. Some of them were really good.

The next year, I decided not to go back to marching band. Too much work for me. I started volunteering at the library instead, and that was more my speed. I got some nice memories of performing, though, I guess I can't say it was all bad.

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Concept Corner #12

Concept Corner #12 - Canyon Steps
A surreal series about a chronically ill young man and his older caretaker of a sister, travelers on a cross-country journey to see famous places all across America. Wherever they go, nightmares seem to follow, some of which are far closer than either of them realize...

So I was pretty heavily inspired by Night Vale and Alice Isn't Dead in the premise of this story. Might make a nice series for younger readers.

Saturday, April 9, 2016

Wisdom from The Voice of Night Vale

"Before everything, before even humans, there were stories. A creature at a fire conjuring a world with nothing but its voice and a listener’s imagination. And now, me, and thousands like me, in little booths and rooms and mics and screens all over the world, doing the same for a family of listeners, connected as all families are, primarily by the stories we tell each other.
And after, after fire, and death, or whatever happens next, after the wiping clean or the gradual decay, after the after…when there are only a few creatures left, there will be one at a fire, telling a story to what family it has left. It was the first thing, and it will be the last."
-Cecil Palmer, Welcome to Night Vale, Episode 71 - "The Registry of Middle School Crushes"
I was listening to one of my podcasts today, and this quote popped up at the end of one of the episodes. Honestly, I couldn't not post it here - it's perfect for Creative Writing class.

Concept Corner #11

Concept Corner #11 - Omnichrome
Mute City is a city of blacks, whites, and the shades of gray in between - in the most literal manner you could imagine. There is no color in Mute City outside of the gray-scale that covers all things and people, and with that monochrome comes a monochrome existence as well. People go to work in droves and do their jobs without passion, without a spark inside. They come home, go to sleep, and awaken the next day to begin again the monotony. No one knows any other way of life. 

But there have been reports of a mysterious figure in Mute City; a being with qualities no citizen can name, abilities they cannot replicate, colors beyond black, white, and gray. And the people who come into contact with this being change, both externally and internally, beyond their uniformity. Slowly, they gain color, and their once-dull eyes begin to glow with a new light. And they desire to find others like them, changing other people along the way by giving them a piece of what they themselves have received. 

And, like a gentle breeze eroding a mountain, their world begins to change with them.

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

A life in cards

Here's another creative fiction piece I wrote for my class - the second one required. It's a little unconventional, but hopefully that's a good thing. Also, because I'm sure people will ask, this is not autobiographical. It could definitely be taken that way, but this is not my life story. OK?

0: The Fool – beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit
The man begins life as a young boy, free of the world’s darker influences. The world rests before him, to be taken one day when he has grown. He decides his future with childlike impunity.
I: The Magician – power, skill, concentration, action, resourcefulness
            The boy goes to school to learn about the world around him. The knowledge he gains of math and science and history will one day serve him well. He is still young, however, and he is only beginning to learn how to change the world around him.
II: The High Priestess – intuition, mystery, higher powers, subconscious mind
            Obstacles and outside influences send the boy into a contemplative state as darkness begins to intrude upon his life, through himself as well as others. He continues to learn both in school and on his own time, developing interests and values to call his own.
III: The Empress – fertility, femininity, beauty, nature, abundance
            Through good times and bad, the boy’s mother is always there for him. She cares for him when he is sick, and shares in his pain when it becomes too much for him. Through her, the boy learns to care for others and to be cared for in return.
IV: The Emperor – authority, father-figure, structure, solid foundation
            The boy seeks to mirror his father, to become his equal. His father teaches him discipline, to separate right from wrong and choose accordingly. The boy comes to understand the importance of a leader, although the burden of such a task still escapes him.
V: The Hierophant – religion, group identification, conformity, tradition, beliefs
            As the boy grows, his interests draw him toward similar people, and he begins to make friends. The boy cares for his friends and strives to be well-liked by them. He also grows closer to his family; aunts, uncles, and cousins whom he hadn’t given much significance before grow more prominent in his eyes.
VI: The Lovers – love, union, relationships, values alignment, choices
            In middle school, the boy – not quite a young man but nearing it – undergoes a change as his feelings toward certain people begin to deepen beyond mere friendship. This frightens him, but through encouragement from family and friends he chooses to pursue these feelings, despite the struggle. His mind, though still youthful, has begun to deepen.
VII: The Chariot – control, will power, victory, assertion, determination
            Many things are going well for the boy. He is learning much and performing well, in school and in life. Many of his schoolmates know who he is. He is content, and he hopes that this part of his life will last a long time.
VIII: Strength – strength, courage, patience, control, compassion
            As high school begins, some of the people for whom the boy has special feelings begin to notice him – perhaps in time they could develop feelings of their own toward him. Despite his uncertainty, he feels a wellspring of hope form within himself. He may be inexperienced in romance, but he feels that this is something worth pursuing.
IX: The Hermit – soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance
            The boy’s feelings pull him toward each of his special ones, but which one should he choose? Those close to the boy lend him their support, but ultimately he must lean on himself in his time of indecision. He ponders on his problem for a long time, seeking a solution that will satisfy himself.
X: The Wheel of Fortune – good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point
            Having made his decision, the boy confesses his feelings toward one of his special ones… and receives reciprocation. He enters a new phase in his life, anxious but also eager. With this change, the young man feels older and more mature than ever before.
XI: Justice – justice, fairness, truth, cause and effect, law
            The young man and his other continue their courtship to mutual satisfaction. Obstacles come into view – opportunities for unfaithfulness – but he remains faithful.
XII: The Hanged Man – suspension, restriction, letting go, sacrifice
            As graduation nears, a parting rears its ugly head. A disagreement concerning college and future plans turns into a conflict between the young man and his other. Emotions run high, and words are spoken that prove unretractable. The young man and his other find themselves at a loss for their next step.
XIII: Death – endings, beginnings, change, transformation
Although tears are shed and caring is acknowledged, the young man and his other part ways. The man goes off to college to pursue his dreams, hoping that distance will help in breaking the shackles binding him to his past misfortunes.
XIV: Temperance – Balance, moderation, patience, purpose, meaning
            Slowly, the wounds of the past scar over, and the man forges new bonds and finds new meaning in the place that he has chosen. Life, for the moment, has reached another peak.
XV: The Devil – bondage, addiction, sexuality, materialism
            The man faces temptation in the form of another. He remains stalwart in the beginning, but as time wears on his resolve weakens, and ultimately he surrenders to their advances.
XVI: The Tower – disaster, upheaval, sudden change, revelation
            When the man’s new other proves to be not what they seem, the man is left overwhelmed and rudderless. He realizes that he had placed far more into their relationship than the other, and with all of it gone the man isn’t sure what to believe in anymore. He falls into a depression.
XVII: The Star – hope, spirituality, renewal, inspiration, serenity
            The man’s downward spiral continues until the end of the year. As he returns home for the summer, family and old friends reach out to him, to lend him their hands and hearts. He rejects them, but as time wears on their words slowly reach him. Hope is rekindled in his heart.
XVIII: The Moon – illusion, fear, anxiety, insecurity
            As the man recovers from his previous state, he becomes aware of his behavior for the past months and is repentant. He fears retribution from those he loves for how he treated them, and without meaning to pulls away from them once more.
XIX: The Sun – fun, warmth, success, positivity, vitality
            At last, the man realizes and receives the forgiveness of his loved ones – including his first special one. Regretting his recent foolish decisions, the man makes things right with the ones he loves, and the future shines brighter for him than it has in a long time.
XX: Judgement – judgement, rebirth, inner calling, absolution
            Now in his right mind once again, the man seeks a future that belongs to him. After some searching, his reignited passions light a path to a future that he feels is right for him. He creates a new plan toward that light.
XXI: The World – completion, integration, accomplishment, travel
            With his new course through life plotted, the man sets out toward a future brighter than ever before. Although he has experienced much pain, he chooses not to forget that pain, but to keep it for when he needs a reminder – a warning against a darker fate. He knows not what surprises life will have for him in the coming years, or even the coming weeks, but the knowledge that he has yet stayed the course grants him determination, and he walks with head held high and hope ablaze in his heart. 

Monday, April 4, 2016

Breakneck Hamlet

So I just got back from an event at Trine - "Breakneck Hamlet" by Tim Mooney. We've talked about it in Creative Writing class some; it's the entire play Hamlet, performed in about an hour's worth of time.

I say performed - it was more like summarized. I'll admit I went in expecting something a little different than what I got. I expected him to actually perform the entire play, speaking the lines and all (which now that I think about it would be a bit much for one person). Don't get me wrong, I didn't dislike it. It was a wonderful way to spend an hour on a Monday evening. It just wasn't exactly what I'd anticipated. I probably would have liked it more if I hadn't actually read Hamlet and didn't know the story ahead of time.

I saw Neriman and Mrs. Homan there. Some of the other writers from my class might have been present as well, somewhere in the auditorium. What did all of you who went think?


Sunday, April 3, 2016

Concept Corner #10

This Concept Corner is going to be a little different from the others. I don't have a story idea - not a concrete one - but I do have an idea for a magic system. As I've stated before, I'm a big fan of Brandon Sanderson, and the magic systems that he creates are often bound to rules and created with flaws and limitations to make them seem more real (for example, Allomancy requires metal to burn, the amount of metal you have determines how much power you can throw around, and most people can only burn one metal). Inspired by this, I came up with a magic system of my own.

Concept Corner #10 - Spheres and Chakras
In the setting of this particular story - I imagine it taking place in a world inspired by feudal Asia, predominantly China - people can use the energy from their chakras for a variety of different effects. Chakra energy is drawn from the body using small metal spheres resembling Baoding balls - small metal balls spun in the palm of the hand for exercise and meditation. There are a number of different types of spheres, but they can be divided into two major categories: directory and inert. 

Directory spheres are constructed out of a relatively fragile metal and decorated with certain patterns using a special type of paint. The color on the sphere determines the chakra drawn from, while the pattern determines the exact effect. Inert spheres have no such patterns, and are constructed from a much more durable metal. Spinning spheres involves at least one of each type of sphere - otherwise you will receive no effect. 

Spheres are spun by holding them in the palm of the hand and rotating them around each other. At this time, the directory spheres draw energy from the body's chakras, which is then drawn into the inert sphere. The inert sphere can then be used in many ways: a throwing weapon, a healing device, and a means of predicting the future are only a few possibilities. This process is tiring on the body, due to draining energy directly from it, but training can be undergone to strengthen the chakra and therefore the body; this also allows for even more energy to be used, strengthening the effects further. 

I have a vague idea for the setting of this story - something feudal Asia-based, like I said, perhaps with some Buddhist elements. I imagine different families would have access to different patterns - which must be drawn painstakingly for them to work - and that different castes of people would be trained in different uses of the art. Outside of that, I'm still putting it together. I'm not huge on writing political stories (I don't have the mind for it), so this wouldn't be coming for a long time. Someday, hopefully.

Friday, April 1, 2016

Primum non nocere

A few days ago I spoke with my counselor again, and the subject of meeting new people came up. It's been a recurring topic in our sessions, albeit one that doesn't bear much fruit. For all of Trine's perks and accolades, it has very few clubs that interest me enough to make me join them. Thus, meeting people has been difficult for me for a while now, even discounting my Asperger's and natural introversion.

I told him - and I really do believe this - that I'm focusing more on preserving my existing relationships than I am on creating new ones. As I may have mentioned before, next semester I'm transferring to another college: IUPUI in Indianapolis. It's larger, more urban, and closer to home, and a lot of people I already know go there. Keeping those present relationships alive ensures that I have a starting place for when I arrive there and perhaps come across those people I know.

That said, I do value the friendships I've made over this past year. My fellows students in the Creative Writing class have been a joy to get to know, both in person and through their writings, and I've become pretty close to a guy in my Bible study group - Jacob Haller, a senior in ME.

But this year is almost over (where does the time go?) and to be honest I'm pretty okay with where I am now in terms of relationships. Besides, Jacob's graduating at the end of this year and while I hope to keep in touch, his job in Ohio will make getting together a challenge. I'm okay, for now, with being more dormant than usual in meeting new people. I'm sure I'll have plenty of opportunity down at IUPUI for that.

Hopefully I can make some of those "lifelong friends" that everybody talks about in those college informational videos.

Wednesday, March 30, 2016


I don't really have anything to say, but I've come to enjoy this song a lot recently and I figured I'd share it. Enjoy.

Monday, March 28, 2016

Chrysalis

Today - less than an hour ago, actually - I put one of my treasured fanfictions to rest. I wrote up an author's note explaining why I couldn't continue, included all my ideas that I'd hoped to put into play, and then posted it as the final chapter (probably, I could go back to it but I don't think I'll intend to).

What surprises me the most is how little it upset me. I've been pondering ending it for a while now; it hasn't been fun to write for a long time, but I didn't want to let the people reading it down. I didn't want to let myself down. And I'm still upset but I'm too busy being relieved to be too upset, if that makes sense. It's been coming for a long while, I just haven't been willing to admit it.

A friend of mine who also has a blog posted a quote a little while ago: "The things we fear the most have already happened to us." -Anonymous. I've been terrified of losing my fire for that story, but I think I'd already lost it long ago. I just couldn't admit it.

Part of me's happy, actually. I'd planned to write that fanfiction alongside my original works, but I think the end result would have been the same, somewhere down the line. And now I don't have to worry about it anymore. It's one less obstacle to being able to become a published writer. Another crack in my chrysalis.

Soon, hopefully soon, I will fly.

Friday, March 25, 2016

Concept Corner #9

Concept Corner #9 - Tri Layer
In a futuristic Earth where virtual reality has revolutionized all aspects of human life, e-gaming reigns supreme. Corporations all over the world have turned to these games and the young adults that play them to scout and recruit people with great potential in traits such as leadership, communication, and quick thinking. Teams from around the world compete in various competitions, the winners of which go down in history as legends. The team known as Tri Layer dreams of joining these ranks one day, but against national teams who've trained their entire lives, do they have a prayer?

The concept of a story about professional gaming came from my dad, who heard an interview about it on the radio and suggested it to me. I dismissed it at the time, since I know little about pro gaming and it doesn't interest me, but I think I could at least come up with something interesting about it. I imagine this would be a relatively real-world story - no 'the game is secretly real' twist, just a team trying to become the best. It'd be a lot like a sports story in that way, I figure.

The two biggest obstacles will likely be figuring out how the pro scene works (I could probably interview some people) and coming up with a game(s) that the characters could play in-universe. It can't be a real game, for obvious reasons, but I'm not sure how to come up with one that seems like it could be real. We'll see.

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Unbound at last

Tomorrow, I get my bands loosened again. I don't think I'll get them fully removed for a couple more weeks, but I'll at least be able to take them off myself and open my mouth to eat. I'm really looking forward to eating more than soup.

I've actually had them loosened before, so I've been in that stage already, but I had to get some more work done because my jaw was a little off-center. Apparently with this operation they have to eyeball things a little because of the swelling, and sometimes the jaw isn't aligned quite right. So they had to put me back under and retighten the bands on my jaw for a little longer.

That was on Monday. It feels like it's been a whole lot longer than three days. I guess that's the frustration talking - it's tough going through a backslide like that. Hopefully things go smoothly from here on in. I've got some ideas of what I'll want to eat first once I can chew again. Maybe a nice taco ring...

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Rage on

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mRec3VbH3w

For those who don't like to click a link without knowing where it'll take you, that's a reading of Dylan Thomas' poem "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" - a piece about living boldly even in your final years.

Strange as it may sound, I used to hate messages like that, ones that told you to live without regrets and fight for your dreams. I think I wanted to be a writer - a creator of my own worlds, and not just a fanfic writer - long before I was willing to admit it to myself. I had a lot of reasons not to want it; it was too much work, I didn't want to fail, I didn't have any good story ideas... the list goes on.

So I forced myself to be content with what I had. But looking back, as content as I was I never really felt satisfied. I think there's a difference, one to do with the short and long-term. So dissatisfaction bubbled under my exterior for a while, and it was hard to listen to messages about having no regrets when I had a big one buried within my chest.

I did stop lying to myself eventually - over last fall break to be specific, but the details are another story - and I'm honestly happier now. Messages like Mr. Thomas' don't get under my skin anymore, or if they do, it's in an inspiring way, one that invigorates me instead of making me feel guilty. I think it's a change for the better.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. It may not be all fun and games, but if it's worth doing you'll be glad you did it.

Saturday, March 19, 2016

Quiet place

This is a short creative fiction story I wrote for my Creative Writing class, as well as a bit of an
exercise in present tense. Enjoy.

He keeps his quiet place a secret from everybody else, save his parents. They’re the ones who brought him there when he was a boy, and taught him to skip rocks on the surface of the water. Now that he’s grown up, he doesn’t need them to take him there anymore. He’s an adult – he can go whenever he pleases. His parents understand why he enjoys going there so much, so they don’t discourage him. 

Running underneath the overpass, tucked away within the trees, is a creek. Or maybe it’s a river. He’s not clear on the difference but it doesn’t really matter. Sometimes it’s one, sometimes the other, but what matters is that it’s there. 

The riverbed is rocky, and stones cover the bank all the way back to the trees. Constant exposure to the sun overhead cooks them into a pale white, regardless of their original color. The darker ones haven’t spent as much time on land, and he enjoys going down to the creek after a storm to see how the rocks have been shaken up. They’re smooth enough to skip, and he spends a lot of time setting and breaking small records. He skipped one six times a while ago, and he’s been trying to replicate it ever since. 

For some reason, he prefers the dreary days to the sunny ones. Days when the skies are gray, the wind is blowing, and the air hovers between being temperate and slightly nippy are the best days to him. He can’t explain why, but he thinks they’re comforting. Perhaps it’s the universality of those kind of days; if it’s gray for him, it’s gray for everybody. Or maybe he just likes the color of the sky those days. That’s probably a factor as well. 

After skipping rocks for a while, he usually goes for a walk down the riverbank. Near his favorite skipping spot is a fallen tree. It’s been there for years, and it always looks the same to him, even though logically it should be rotting by now – perhaps that’s the nostalgia coloring his view. A ways past the tree, the creek widens into a definite river and swallows the riverbank, forcing him to start going through the trees. Fortunately, there’s a well-worn footpath running alongside the river that serves his purposes well. As he travels farther down the path, the riverbank inclines upward above the river, and the trees gradually thin out. This part of the river is especially beautiful come sunset, and when he was younger the sight of those last golden rays over the flora and the water made him think of Africa – or least, his vision of Africa. 

He lives a good life, he thinks. His parents love him, he gets good grades, he isn’t popular (not to his knowledge) but he has friends, and he has hopes for the future. But the world is still a harsh place, and sometimes he needs to go somewhere to unwind after a difficult day. That’s why he cherishes his quiet place so dearly, why he keeps it close to his breast even though he’d risk little by showing it to others. They’ve probably already been by at least once before, anyway. But he’s fine with keeping it to himself for now. Maybe someday he’ll find somebody special, somebody he wouldn’t mind giving his life to. Somebody with whom he can share anything. 

When that happens, he knows exactly what he’ll show them. 

Friday, March 18, 2016

Concept Corner #8

Concept Corner #8 - Beckoning
In the time before time, there was only nothing... and the All and One, who reached into the nothing and formed it into reality. From the All and One came gods, who continued their creator's work, coming down from their plane of existence and bringing light and life to a desolate planet. Among this life, standing closer to the gods than any other, were humans. 

But as humanity grew, the gods fell victim to infighting and grudges that escalated into all-out war. This war between the gods touched down onto the humans' soil... and they took up arms as well, to fight among some of the gods against the others. 

Far from being proud, the gods were frightened at what the humans had done, how much they had grown. They feared the humans' capacity for further strength, and abandoned the plane of existence they had inhabited for so long, leaving the humans behind. Over millennia, the existence of the gods was forgotten, and humanity grew into many vast civilizations. 

In the present day, the remnants of the gods have been rediscovered at last, and that discovery became a beacon - a call to the gods to return to the creations they had left long ago. But the old gods are not the only ones to heed the call, as old enemies and new ones emerge from their shadows once again to threaten the ones who locked them away...

This is another old idea I had. It's meant to be a story about a fictional pantheon of gods who come to their earth and form partnerships with humans by granting them some of their power. I was stuck on it for a while, but over spring break I made some great strides on the backstory and setting (it's not on our Earth, but I imagine it's on a planet much like ours in the modern day).

Duality plays a large role in this pantheon, and to that end each god or goddess represents a pair of diametrically opposed or complementary concepts (i.e. Emotions and Stillness, Creation and Sterility, Land and Sea, Sky and Forest, etc.) When coming to their earth, they disguise themselves as humans by granting one of those halves of power to a human, forming a bond with them in the process. The humans teach the gods about their civilization, and the gods act as companions, protectors, and possibly more.

This could open up a large number of possibilities, I imagine. What role would the concepts play in the gods' characters? Would being given these powers affect the humans somehow? How would the gods feel about their creations? What kind of enemies could there be - gods of other, more modern religions? Perhaps other creations of the gods, meant to replace humans but abandoned once the call to return came? It's so wonderful when an idea bears such fruit!

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Where I'm From

I'm from a musical interrupted halfway through for a life-changing event.
I'm from childhood innocence, or perhaps obliviousness would be a better term for me.
I'm from fishing in a pond at the park, and never being able to stomach unhooking the fish.
I'm from learning to ride my bike on the tennis courts and always falling down, only to finally figure it out. I'm still not sure how.
I'm from waking up early on Saturdays to watch cartoons. Lilo and Stitch was my favorite.
I'm from seeing the same people at school, always lingering at the edge of my sight and occasionally crossing fully into my vision.
I'm from long visits up to South Bend in the chilly north, where the rest of my kin live.
I'm from buttons and joysticks, bright colors and fun.
I'm from slipping on a white gi and burning katas into my mind.
I'm from tickling the ebonies and ivories.
I'm from blowing into the same alto saxophone that my sister used to play.
I'm from collections of old Calvin and Hobbes comic strips.
I'm from learning just how my autism sets me apart from others.
I'm from sitting at the lunch table, watching people laugh together.
I'm from playing around with computers in my Tech class.
I'm from snowball fights and forts with the neighborhood kids.
I'm also from watching those same kids grow older alongside myself.
I'm from voyages into a much larger city than my own, and watching it grow smaller in recent days.
I'm from jumping up and down on my old trampoline in the warm weather.
I'm from watching anime in my high school club.
I'm from lingering feelings of dissatisfaction, vainly ignored.
I'm from coming undone after lying to myself for too long.
I'm from getting better, finding the answers I need.
I'm from somehow not minding the greatest challenge still before me.
I'm from standing up and facing the future.

Saturday, March 12, 2016

The turning hands

So, spring break's almost over. It seemed to move a lot faster once I hit the halfway point - before then there was still plenty of time for things, but after? Everything blurred by. I wonder if it's like that for a lot of people. Wouldn't surprise me.

Can you believe there's literally less than two months left in the school year? About half of March left, then all of April, then a week in May, and that's it. And here I am, still lacking a summer internship. I'll have to dedicate some time to that in the coming weeks.

What are you guys planning to do over the summer? I'm hoping for my internship, of course, but I also want to get my driver's license if I have time, and maybe even start working on my first book. I'm going to be busy - odd how I don't seem to mind. Hopefully you all have big plans as well.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Concept Corner #7

Concept Corner #7 - Lucidity
A YA series about a group of people with the power to enter people's dreams and manipulate them to solve problems. 

This is one of my earlier story ideas, but it's not particularly developed as of yet. I have a vague image of it - kind of Harry Potter-esque, although I'm not sure what kind of setting would suit the story best without being too unoriginal. Harry Potter has an academy, Percy Jackson has a summer camp... what kind of setting could I apply to this? A civilization within the dream world itself, perhaps?

Monday, March 7, 2016

My double spring break

So as Mrs. Homan knows for sure - I'm not sure how many other people who read this - I had to miss the week preceding spring break to get some surgery done on my jaw. I've had an underbite since as long as I can remember, and my family has been working to make my teeth look better for almost a decade now.

In middle school and maybe high school, I had braces - only on my top teeth, since my lower jaw was still growing. It didn't stop until maybe my junior or senior year of high school. I got the braces off for my first year of college, then got them back on for my top and bottom teeth (for symmetry's sake, I suspect) the next summer.

Exactly one week ago, I was in the operating room under anesthesia with a bunch of tubes down my throat while the surgeons broke and realigned my jaw. They screwed a couple of bolts into the sides to keep it in place. As far as I can tell, those bolts will be in my skull long after the bones heal. The operating room was cold, but the people in it were nice, so that was a comfort.

When I woke up maybe four or five hours later, my jaw was banded shut and I had an icepack wrapped around my head and a mask blowing moist air to help my sinuses. My face was heavily swollen, my throat stung like needles (from both dryness and the tubes from the surgery), and my nose and mouth bled everytime I tried to sit up.

My parents were there, though, and they remained there while I tried to relax and suck water, Sprite, and apple juice through my teeth to soothe my throat. I stayed in the recovery room overnight, during which time I used the bathroom a lot from all the fluids, tried to read a couple of books, and cried a lot more than I thought I would.

Now I'm home, and the swelling has gone down enough for me to go from all liquids to nonchewables. Good for me. It's been tough, but I'd like to think I survived well. Hopefully I'll be back to situation normal in time.

Quota

Screen glows, charges.
A blue sea behind trailed with wispy white.

tap-click-click-tap

Gray and white page, tabbed on top with five others.
A white 'B' in an orange square.
Scroll, scroll.
Time to view the Memories of a friend.

click

New tab.
Green grass and blue sky pattern. White worded name.
Below, words from the bard.
Admiration. Amusement.
Submit thoughts and click out.

click

A cosmic Symphony.
Musings on a dark map.
Destination? Unverifiable.
Docks and flowers. Land and sea. Familiar words.
Then, unfamiliar with the familiar.
Land and sea converge.
Close enough to brush fingertips...
And then away again.
Memories. Vivid thoughts.
Thoughts spoken. Moving on.

click

Down a new Highway.
A window frames a mountain.
Rain flecks.
The room fills with questions, dark thoughts.
Shadows staining a bright light from within.
Demons cry from a formless mass in a locked cage.
And then, a question.
And a painful answer.
A curtain that almost closed but was drawn back.
Shock. Sadness. Understanding.
Darker feelings.
Response - inadequate?

click

Two comments asked for. Four given.
Quota has been met.
What words will this Stone sing?
Three posts asked for.
One.
Quota unmet.

Friday, March 4, 2016

How middle school drama club relates to my present-day life

We're all the main characters in our own stories, right? Isn't that how most people see it?

So when other people show up, sometimes we tend to view them as side characters. Not necessarily unimportant, but not as important as we are.

I don't think that's entirely anybody's fault, though. We can only empathize with other people so much - we can't really understand them the same way we understand ourselves. So we can't call them main characters by the definition of the phrase which we use to define ourselves as main characters. Perhaps 'deuteragonist' would be a better term, in contrast to our 'protagonist.' Still important, but not as central.

Still, it's interesting how every now and then, a supporting character shows up who doesn't stay so minor. Maybe they become your best friend. Maybe your significant other. Perhaps both. But what is it about the direction of our lives that dictates who plays a supporting role and who turns out to be so much more important?

And then there are some people - I don't know any personally, but I'm sure they exist - who identify themselves more as a supporting character than a main character. I feel that way sometimes, but I try to regard myself as a protagonist. Maybe a protagonist in-training, at this point.

Anyway, I think life would be a whole lot more lonely if it was split solely into main characters and side characters. It would make people a lot harder to identify with and care about. I wonder who I know who could become a deuteragonist. Maybe they already are and I'm not aware of it.

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Concept Corner #6

Concept Corner #6 - Outliers
This is a superhero story, but it's not like most you've likely heard of. In this world, everybody has some sort of power - most of them are negligible compared to others, but everybody has a power. Furthermore, this ubiquity of metahumanism has created a social structure where your role in society is determined by your power (it takes place on an Earth-like world, probably sometime in the fairly near future). 

At a certain age, you and your power are tested and analyzed, and you're stuck in whatever job the Powers That Be feel would suit you best. Then you do that until you die. There's an element of classism to the process as well; people from wealthy or powerful families can often choose what they'd like to do, and certain "lesser" roles such as menial labor are frequently discriminated against, even by similar castes. 

Or you can become a superhero, which allows you to defy the caste system regardless of what you're capable of - although the process is rightfully difficult and most who try fail. 

The story centers on a young man from an elite family who, prior to his test, sees someone from a "lesser" caste being discriminated. Interest piqued, he opts to join this caste, unaware that in doing so he may one day spark a revolution...

This started as some sort of poorly defined story idea about a group of people competing for the mantle of "hero." Some kind of fantasy or sci-fi story - like I said, poorly defined - that would have gone into what being a hero meant by digging into the motivations of each of these characters to become a hero. It eventually mutated into this, and I think this would make a much better story.

I was inspired pretty heavily by the present-day Transformers comics, and their use of the Functionist system which is similar to this, but with alt-modes instead of powers. I've also got another story idea in this same setting, about a newcomer to a  metahuman military unit.

Writing this series would require a lot of preparation - it's shaping up to be more political than my mind's used to handling - but I think I could do a lot with it. We'll see.

Shackles

I'm self-aware enough to know that I have my share of bad habits. I talk to myself a lot, I spend too much time in my room, I catastrophize, I expect magic fixes to my problems - it's a fair list. I could write posts on a lot of those, honestly, but I won't because A) that would bum me out, and B) there's only one that's been really bugging me as of late.

I have a strong sense of obligation to things. I suppose in some ways that's good, since it means I'm less likely to let things fall out of my life, but most of the time it's painful. I feel this way about so many things - the games and books I own, my hobbies, this very blog - that I feel guilty for neglecting them when I inevitably don't have time for them all. I know most of them aren't going anywhere, but I'm ignoring them now and that makes me feel like I'm doing wrong by them.

I bring this up now of all times because this sense of obligation is starting to affect how I feel about my blog. There's a second layer of obligation to this topic, I'll admit, in that I have to do this for school and I'm graded on it, but I simply don't always have the drive or inspiration to post or write a comment on anything. And that hurts, partly because it makes me worry about meeting my quota and partly because I feel like I'm being neglectful again.

I don't think running this blog is a bad idea - it gives me an available outlet for my feelings, and venting those feelings more often than not improves my mood. But I'm afraid this sense of obligation weighing on me is starting to make me feel burnt out on it. I don't want this to become something else that I drop because it's not making me feel good; I've already half-done it with my art, and I feel bad enough about that.

That fill up your angst quotas?