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Jan. 3rd, 2011

 I really hope to keep up a daily effort to practice writing. It's not really worth getting into why and all. The motivation I used to thrive on to explain everything in my life promptly died recently. I had gathered the last month of dozens of exercises for writing development.

I don't plan on an updated LiveJournal every exercise, but this is just something to satiate my appetite for an update, while announcing both the sense of utter dread I've accumulated the last month and the sense of achievement I need to fulfill. I've got very little else fueling my steps forward each day. 

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The city street lies under a flat sheet of clouds that collectively glow, filtering the sunlight to a cast white. Wisps of exhaust trail the traffic-locked cabs in cotton puffs, generating a feeling of constant motion to the flow of cars. The hoods and hubcaps reflect the sky in white lines, and the overload of light in this bright winter day pains the swelling eyes of a middle-aged commuter, standing by his bus stop.

The man's view shifts to focus on the drifting cabs in front of him. It is distinguishable which ones are new by the shades of yellow and its condition under the weathering elements of sunlight and the pelting asphalt of the street. The newer cabs were not fading, but there was only one this man could see, and it was passing him as he processed these details.

A break in the traffic allowed this driver to drift away forever, replaced by the battered bumpers and hoods of aged vehicles. There was a moss green hue of what was once presumably forest. A station wagon was betrayed of its original velvet by the present mauve. Black crusts of dirt hugged every undercarriage and the barrage of strewn puddles would never be enough to soften their speckled texture. It was an unavoidable feeling of filth that never crossed the local’s mind before, but this feeling had broken into his skull and pleaded for his senses to process his surroundings overwhelmingly.

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The exercise, wall of textCollapse )

 

______________________________________________

 

I'm not entirely satisfied with what I've written, and I'm thinking I'll spend the next few nights practicing the same exercise, with a focus on different senses until I feel I can adequately cover all the bases I feel like I've left uncovered.  
 Yeah have a happy whatever. 
 So, I had a GOOD DREAM for the first time in... christ... over a year? All it took was a dream of going to a party full of hipsters, and oddly enough, furries. I was much more ecstatic by the presence of the hipsters some reason, as the presence of the furries grew overly creepy and disturbing as the dream went on. It's isn't so much the content of the dream, but the general feeling I had through it, and I just kinda felt it was worth mentioning to the hollow caverns of the internet. I just felt happy, hah. 

More than the good feeling, what strikes me as more interesting is something I literally did within the dream. I was oblivious being in a dream, up until I remembered, unprovoked, that I was taking a nap in between classes, and I literally thought within my head "Oh shit. I'll just check the time on my phone, and continue on with this dream." So I woke up, checked my phone for the time and placed my head down to sleep again when it all occurred to me that things don't exactly work that way. I was very disappointed to say the least. The dream had taken a weird turn towards playing old and new video games around a campfire, during the start of a violent storm, and lastly, maybe when I did fall asleep again, speeding through a desert in a car with my coworker.

My mind is mysteriously boring. 

I am dreading the end of this semester. I haven't looked forward to a break throughout the years, expecting just a stretch of time that I spend doing anything that doesn't qualify as productive or enlightening towards a happier state of mind. That, and I havent made a schedule of classes yet, just as late as I've been with all my semesters, but I am awfully confused each and every time what exactly I need to do, and I haven't the slightest clue why I can't remember how to do this process each and every time. I need (what I believe to be) 17 more credits. I can not do that in one semester, as 15 credits was too much with work, and I had to withdraw from my Weight lifting class. However, if I have a semester of anything less than 12 credits, I will not be covered by my insurance. I'll see what I can select, and see if I can take the last few classes next summer.

BUT I WILL NEED TO CHOOSE A MAJOR BY THEN. I haven't a clue of where to start, but I seem to be forcing myself to believe I have a career in writing. A friend of mine connected me to her friend who is works in Public Relations, which involves the upkeep of a business's positive image to the public. This involves being hired to write articles or things of the such, and finding publishers who will buy and publish it. Or so I think, after several Google searches. Her friend then briefly then tried to describe a possibility in journalism, but that is something she didn't have much knowledge of, nor did she have much to say that was positive (low entry-level income, that is much like scavenging for scraps). 

I also have much stress I am dealing with. Like, I'm talking bad, serious stress (WHO DOESN'T AMIRITE?). I'm tired of really talking about such things, but merely mentioning them is enough to avoid bottling them in my head. I contemplate very often that the anti-depressants will improve my life as they had before. I know it seems like a disgusting phrase to many people, that medication is a "cure-all pill you pop once a day," but I'm over a year into this now. I've tried different medications. I've tried different nutritions, and different habits, and closely examined the results. I see it as a "lack of strength and common sense" to need to be so dependent on medication (I feel I'm wrong for the use of medication. Not that it is in general wrong. I don't have confidence in any choice I make). So I'm scheduling appointments for new psychiatrists, who will hopefully prescribe me Pristiq, and actually make me feel capable of achieving minor goals throughout the day. 

I hope this is a step beyond complaining. I am merely more encouraged to write as a way to relieve stress, but in a productive manner that allows me to contemplate the things I think about, and to effectively move on with my day, instead of obsessing about my issues (which is my most apparent crutch to me, and was very much cured by the Pristiq). 

I hope you are all doing well! 

 Heh, well. S'like this. I remade my LJ account to escape the reminder that I really only CONSTANTLY bitch and cry and moan on it. I realize it's all I did this year. I'm not childish enough to remake another one to ignore the dozens of cryposts I made. I'm just gonna move on. 

So, I am doing fine. Those posts were during a time when I had a broken heart, when I was breaking hearts, when I was fresh and new to responsibility and too familiar with my childhood. I'm stronger, or just more calloused after it all, I suppose, and things most certainly could be better but I'd probably be saying that if I won the lottery. 

I'm hoping to get into writing again. I love fiction, but my strength in writing seems to be editorial. It would explain why teachers essentially jizzed all over my essays with notes of appraisal. I'm thinking of choosing a Major in school to focus on that. Classes now are very stressful, but doable. 

I've been doing a ton of reading, chopping down mostly fiction novels, and finding myself re-reading books from years ago (I've never enjoyed rereading a book before this year). My hand was forced to pick up an old book when I ran out of books that grabbed my interest in the house. I made a christmas list with 13 books listed (5 of them graphic novels but nyah, ONE OF THEM IS FUN HOME, FLOE). 

There are plenty of people I miss. A lot of friends have grown distant for reasons too varied to label them all. My local DnD group utterly died, and I have a work schedule that limits myself to one day of hanging with one friend a week, if even that for a few hours. It's not something that bothers me too much, but it is very sad for me at the same time. I know things will change when I get my associate's, but that's mostly because I'm assuming some big changes are going to come and go by then (we're looking at another year from now). 

For those who werent there to hear me bitch and moan, I SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN CHICAGO ABOUT 2 WEEKS AGO but that's old news. I'm still upset though.  ;_____;  I had so many friends I wanted to see, but I did get to go to furfright instead, and really was glad to make friends with Flux and Sadie, who I met through Aurora, who I saw only as a nice associative before but I see as a good friend now. :D I never seem to think I can have more fun at a con drunk, until the next con comes along. And I'll be 21 for AC next year! Yay for immature anticipation for a legal drinking age! 

On a final note:
This year went by slowly for too long, and now it is finishing too fast for me to keep up (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID HAR HAR). 

 

TLDR: The times are a-changin', and we are a-changin' with it. 

 I try to see the difference between complaining, and what I need to appropriately feel.

I am shaky in the hands, and late at night I dont want to sit still. I sit awake, upset for (mostly) no reason. Just that urge to cry but the tears wont come out anymore, because I've taught myself it's pathetic and worthless to cry alone or at all. I'm not that child from last year "so new to the shitty experiences of life." 
My thoughts are back to racing, constantly, all day. I think about things that upset me, about things in the future, and things in the past. It causes my stomach to constantly be in a shrivel, and I'll skip a meal when I'm jittered up (about every day). This makes me want to scream in my car every time I drive, but the energy can't be mustered up anymore.
I end up hating myself, and I get shitty, fucked-up thoughts; I feel like I'm a failure in most people's eyes. 

I wasn't like this with anti-depressants, but I know this depression is self-induced, and because of that, medication would be a crutch for me to never learn how to cope with my emotions. I spend every second I'm not distracted by class to think of how I can get to the next day, thinking to myself if I just push m through I'll hit a hot streak of good feelings and I wont be depressed anymore. I stopped speaking with my counselor, because I feel she only made me think it was okay to feel that things should work out for me. It's blatant I have to change to get an ounce of the things I want. 

And that's how my last month has been. If you catch me smiling, I'm forcing it, or it's because I told a joke because I'm just that funny guy whose company everybody enjoys only so much. I don't want to hear "but we love you Dan! You're awesome!" because it only does so much for me. I want something else that just seems to be to picky to be given. 

 To say "It hurts" is an understatement. It's just a part of my day and I don't see the difference anymore between "depression" and just reacting to everything anymore. 

Dont think I dont look at these posts as I make them. This sad shit needs to be let out or I get goddam chest pains just thinking about them. 

Eh, no long-ass explanations or update in my life. Just venting. FUCK YOU WORLD and FUCK YOU EVERYBODY WHO TELLS ME I’M WRONG. It’s made me a fucking wreck because everyone else is so sure I’m doing things wrong and I’m ruining my life, or I’m too clueless to know what they’re equally clueless about.
Fuck you anxiety.
Fuck you pressure.
Fuck you obstacles and mishaps.
I KNOW I could have at least used one break this year, and each occasion is snatched from me and rubbed into my face.
I KNOW what I want.
Christ, I wont even admit this as childish because I want to feel right by at least this much. If I don’t get this shit out even as a goddam livejournal entry, I’ll be telling it to someone else, and they’d tell me I’m wrong. So fuck that.

Oct. 1st, 2010

 I'm loud, funny, sometimes obnoxious, whiny, overly and aggressively opinionated, lazy, geeky, friendly and ALWAYS stressed and depressed. If I have to point it out too, I'm constantly self-conscious. Does anyone see anything else? I feel like I'm so much more complicated (as we all are) but I feel like it doesn't show because I never get the chance to let it show. Has anyone ever seen anything about me that can be described so I don't feel like the ideas I have about myself aren't self-absorbed or too modest?

I'm not begging for compliments. I just want to be described.

 

 Been. a. while. 

I dont need to go through a lot of the bullshit that's been troubling me lately, because it isnt the situation that matters (car's breaking down. School is far more intensely overwhelming than before). It's just how I deal with it that matters, which I guess is going well considering I stopped seeing my therapist for a while, and havent taken my anti-depressants for about over a month now. All that leaves me with is an anxiety attack I had a few nights ago, and a constant sense of dread, but I figure that's life by this point (I kid, I kid). 

I started a relationship with a girl recently. It didn't last long, and it's been troubling me. I didnt grow so attached, so Im not hurting over the break-up, but it's how attached that she got that hurts me and makes me think about how I've handled relationships to this point.

I hate who I've become through everything. I have MANY unresolved thoughts and feelings which I need to get over, and accepting that has been a process literally close to a year. I have many thoughts of what I want and what I need, and I dont get solid answers. So ideally, all I can do is just move on and find what works for me by moving on. That only works until I get myself into another mess because my heart or my dick is in the wrong place (and the same place). So for now if I have any interest in relationships in the near future, someone PLEASE punch me in the eye or something. 

It's just never that easy though, right?  

At this point, this just shows Im back to ranting on LJ, but it hasnt been used for anything else, so full sails ahead. How's everyone else doing? 

Jul. 24th, 2010

I wanted to write a list of every asshole I bumped into, each incident that almost literally crashed my car, and the sheer horrible luck of having this band's concert rained out for the second time all in one day. 

A lot of inconsiderate and unfortunate things were done against me, in my attempt to see one of my favorite bands(a ticket I got from my sister as a birthday gift) , but after it all, on the car ride back, seething with anger, I held my breath and thought of what it meant to be happy. I grabbed that feeling by the throat and broke it open to wash over me. I felt calm and I took into consideration the things that really mattered.

My point to this post is: Please people, be considerate of others. Be safe and smart. And know what it is to be happy.

WHOO LIFE UPDATE

Hey, been a while.

Currently, Im not feeling so well. I think the greatest contributor to the severe anxiety I’m experiencing is how I've forgotten to take my anti-depressants for the last few days (I cannot exactly remember for how long). A part of me realizes how I’m not longer an emotional and mental mess as I was several months back, and it’s really tricky to see the effects and side-effects of anti-depressants and when they come and go. I feel, at least, that the anti-depressants prevented my extreme anxiety and my racing thoughts, and the sudden moments where I feel I’m about to cry because of some looming sense of dread and loneliness that comes by so often (and I’m very aware how melodramatic that sounds).

I steady myself when I get these feelings, and so far as I don’t cry, and don’t have fits of anger and as long as I can get by, then I feel I’m making progress, but another part of me reminds me that I’m too observant of how I’m feeling, and I’m defeating the purpose of getting well. Replacing the anxiety of loneliness with the anxiety of trying to feel okay being lonely. On my medication, none of these things crossed my mind, and I moved on with life. What's my point if it’s so very obvious that the medication helps? I feel like I’m broken if I need a pill to keep me steady, and I feel like it’s my fault. But whatever my decision is, whether to fight the depression with or without medication, I feel I’m making a sort of progress for the better.

To branch off, I met a nice girl at Anthrocon. Her name is Dana; she's a very nice and attractive girl with a talent for art and a personality that fits into everything I want and need in a girlfriend. And yet, she lives in Chicago, and every thought I have of her seems to be clouded with the reminder that it is for nothing. I can't do long distance, because I don’t know how it would work.

There are factors involved with a relationship like that, and it scares me away from wanting to try it. And I’m not getting ahead of myself because she makes it clear she's just as interested in me as I am in her, as far as you can be interested in a person you've met and spoken with for only several days. Someone, who with your entire friendship started with a random, one-night stand. Yeah. So where does interest come into play, where it isn’t clouded by that influential, first-impression doused with infatuation?

On a final note, the last few things tearing my head apart:

School and where it takes me.
I feel like I’ve lost a very close friend.
Keeping my short-temper under control. It comes out when I have this anxiety.
One or two other things that have come up recently, that I don’t really feel at comfort with sharing.

/End venting

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