Imagine this in a meme format
Today is first day of period Which means i get to alternate between wanting to blow my brains out and solve world hunger every two minutes

Yesterday i sat here at 1 in the morning. The day before I sat here at 1 in the morning. Tomorrow i’m sitting here at 1 in the morning. The day after i’m going to practice like I did today, tomorrow, yesterday and the day before. I feel like time is a big mass of nothing and everything; this is probably the only thing i dislike about summer break. I do much stuff all the time, yes, but it all blends together in something that exists beyond me.

I’ve been listening to Ween a lot lately. They’re very awesome. The album Quebec is my favorite.

My new about page is finally finished. It is time to remake the long-awaited index.html, which I’m quite excited for. I hope I make a good job. I was left with a deep, brooding dissatisfaction upon finishing the about page and realizing I didn’t really like it as much. That made me kind of sad.

I’m worried about how truly antisocial I am. I feel like I’ve been losing my social skills, like when you don’t practice an instrument for long and get rusty. The idea of talking to other people comes off as scarier and scarier each time and I fear I will someday stop doing it altogether. In truth, I’m only interested in talking to people when it’s got to do with my interests. Especially percussion. There are many things about being part of a group and having deep connections that scare me so I actively run away from such possibilities. The world scares me so much. I only want to play.

Rust Transdermal Celebration

I went to the gym for the first time ever in my life today. It was a very odd experience, but it somehow felt more welcoming than the sport I have practiced for most of my life, swimming. For context, I am a very unathletic and weak person; to such a degree I have been (friendly) teased for it my whole life. I have never enjoyed physical exercise and suffer from an almost chronic disconnection from my body, which I guess can be traced back to complex and traumatic experiences I went through regarding sports and exercising as a kid and young teenager, yadda yadda. Only recently I began taking real care of myself and prioritizing my well-being –but now that I’m thinking about it, I am doing that in the name of having the best possible performance at my studying (healthier= more motivation= more studying= success). I guess it is the outcome what matters-- and it has been great.

My body feels weird. It’s like I’m just discovering I have muscles and bones and cartilage and blood running below my skin and I’m not a puppet. Everyone tells me my body will ache lots tomorrow, which I hope is not the case because I plan to study xylophone and have to go to uni. I suppose that it will be worth it.

I’m still reading The Savage Detectives. I read it on all my bus rides (buses are practically my second home) and get frustrated when I can’t sit down and take the book out. I have many thoughts on it but I’m struggling to put them in order, and as there are many questions left unanswered for now (and I haven’t reached what I know is the most important part of the book yet) I prefer not to bug myself with the task of reaching conclusions. I love Bolaño so much it makes me want to cry. My favorite character so far is Auxilio Lacouture, the uruguayan mother of mexican poetry. She was apparently inspired by a school teacher from Melo, Cerro Largo that Bolaño met in Mexico. She is very wonderful. A detail I noticed is that she was wearing white, blue and yellow pieces of clothing (button-up shirt, skirt and moccasins respectively) during the incident at the military UNAM intervention of 1968, which in this fiction she survived inside the building itself – those are the colors of the uruguayan flag! Here is a wonderful fragment of her introductory chapter:

”[...]Then I fell asleep. Then I woke up, and for hours, maybe days, I cried for lost time, for my childhood in Montevideo, for faces that still trouble me (that trouble me now even more than before) and that I'd rather not talk about. Then I lost track of the days I'd been confined. From my window I saw birds, trees, branches extending from invisible places, bushes, grass, clouds, walls, but I didn't see people or hear any noise, and I lost track of how long I'd been inside. Then I ate toilet paper (part of me was maybe remembering Charlot), but just a little piece, I didn't have the stomach to eat more. Then I discovered that my appetite was gone. Then I took the toilet paper that I'd written on and I threw it in the toilet and pulled the chain. The sound of the water startled me, and I thought I was lost. I thought: despite my cleverness and all my sacrifices, I'm lost. I thought: what a poetic act to destroy my writings. I thought: I should have swallowed them instead, because now I'm lost. I thought: the vanity of writing, the vanity of destruction. I thought: because I wrote, I stood my ground. I thought: because I destroyed what I wrote they're going to find me, beat me, rape me, kill me. I thought: the two acts are related, writing and destruction, hiding and being found. Then I sat on the toilet and closed my eyes. Then I fell asleep. Then I woke up. [...]”

I am studying percussion for many hours every day almost obsessively. I lay in bed after arriving home from university and get this effervescent, uncontrollable ache to play and practice, thinking about everything I can do, but not with anxiety (primarily), but excitement. It is evident I am improving a lot, and for that I’m very thankful and happy. There is of course a long, long way to go but I like to believe I’m doing great.

My friend gave me some important insight when I told her I had the aspiration of learning to play the marimba with four mallets. “Wey, don’t wait for someone else to come and teach you. Look up scores and videos on the internet, ask questions to those who know, practice and try it yourself. Don’t wait.”


Don’t wait!
–Rust

Song of the day: Viento - Caifanes

Llamada que recibí hoy
“Me olvidé de cancelarla, pido disculpas.”
“No pasa nada. ¿Hay algo con que le pueda ayudar telefónicamente?”
“No, estoy bien.”
“¿Sigue en tratamiento?”
“No, solo seguimiento con psicóloga, y estoy de lo más bien.”
“¿Ha tenido pensamientos de muerte o urgencias en los últimos tiempos?”
“Para nada.”

Hoy
Me di cuenta que puedo romantizar mi vida de formas muy autoindulgentes ahora que poseo más independencia sobre mí mismo que nunca antes en mi vida. Me expreso y respiro con todo lo que hago y digo, y estar así de solitario me permite ver el mundo por cual color de lentes de sol yo quiera. No pienso ni un segundo en las percepciones de los demás de forma realmente trascendental y me siento libre. Me puedo comer el mundo entero en paz y hacer lo que quiera porque no vivo para absolutamente nadie.

Me siento libre de no estar adherido a una rutina y estar esperando siempre alguna clase o evento. Me paso más tiempo haciendo cosas porque no corro para ningún lado, porque puedo usar todo el tiempo que quiera para apreciar las cosas más de cerca. Un día de estos quiero tomarme un ómnibus cualquiera y llevar nada más que un diario y unos libros, a ver en donde termino y que hago, como me manejo. Pienso en cuidar de mí mismo y vestirme bien, en encontrar cosas en lo mundano y enriquecerme lo más posible.

Es cierto que cuando entro en contacto con cosas en las que evito pensar siento una gran y profunda melancolía – siempre son cosas que están más allá de mi control. Hoy en terapia hablamos de mi madre y me puse muy, muy triste. Vacío. Hablamos de mi padre y me puse muy, muy triste. Vacío. Hablamos de otras personas y me puse muy, muy triste. Vacío.

Soy un conjunto de conceptos multicolores que se entrelazan entre todos como los patrones de un kaleidoscopio. Hay sangre en mi pelo. Soy el erizo de Heidegger. Mi psiquis se vuelve en sí misma como espiral. Hay algo dentro de mí que no soy yo y juntos vamos a cometer actos de terrible salvajedad. Gkdfn MDndkn mn NDNms msddn dm fggffggggfff . < <> (())

NARRENSCHIFF - Link de descarga
Acabo de terminar de jugar un maravilloso indie hecho en RPG Maker MZ llamado NARRENSCHIFF que encontré por casualidad surfeando por ahí, y genuinamente no creo jamás haber jugado algo como aquello. La experiencia se va a quedar conmigo por el resto de mi vida. Me dio escalofríos, puso la piel de gallina, hizo que se me cristalizaran los ojos; resonó conmigo increíblemente. Es la primera vez que un juego me hace sentir así.

Hay paralelas entre el arte contemporáneo, la salud mental y los tratamientos psiquiátricos, la infancia y la adultez, la religión, la experiencia de ser inmigrante, la iconografía, el psicoanálisis y la figura materna… Es extraño que me haya topado con este juego hoy mismo. Además de tratar a mi madre en terapia (¡y literalmente hablar de Freud!), recibí una llamada de mi prestador de salud por una consulta psiquiátrica que agendé hace muchísimos meses y que olvidé cancelar, ya que hace mucho tiempo estoy sano y fui dado de alta. Ayer hablé con la persona más importante en mi vida sobre los primeros recuerdos de mi infancia y mi tristeza con mis figuras paternas, mi desconexión de ellas; también. Este tipo de cosas me hacen no creer en las coincidencias.

En esta etapa de mi vida estoy conectado al arte y a la psicología/psiquiatría como nunca y siento que este juego fue hecho para mí en algunos aspectos. Tiene un aire de realismo mágico y referencia mucha literatura, además. Siento que voy a explotar. Todo el mundo va a encontrar algo distinto en este juego que resuena con ellos/as y genuinamente no puedo recomendarlo con más ímpetu. Si sos un ser humano que respira, te ruego por favor que juegues NARRENSCHIFF. Puntos extra si: tenés problemas con tu figura materna, sos trans, fuiste medicalizado/a o internado/a en algún momento, experimentaste psicosis/alucinaciones/amnesia en algún momento, te gusta el arte, te gusta la psicología o la psiquiatría, te gusta el terror psicológico.

Me muero por poner cosas puntuales sobre el juego acá, pero no quiero spoilearlo para nadie. Por favor jugalo. POR FAVOR!!!!!!!!!!! por favor. No te vas a arrepentir, promesa. Si lo hacés, considera escribirme un mail ([email protected]) y hablarme de qué te pareció. Significa muchísimo para mí.

All disease is only love transformed.
–Thomas Mann, The Magic Mountain

Rust

Break - Fugazi

December at last. I lost a bit of continuity between these entries, for it feels it has been some time since I have written to you. It hasn’t been more than a week and a half, though. In any case, things are going great. I am officially and definitely out of highschool and on summer vacation, enjoying it at its fullest; waking up early, reading everything I get my hands on and working on my projects. I have been reading manically. I pulled half of Roberto Bolaño’s (my new favorite writer, if you recall my past entries) work out of a local library, and am currently going through Los Detectives Salvajes (1998), which has quickly become my favorite book of all time. I just love Bolaño so, so much. His work has inspired me to add more layers to my own projects, indulge in things I hadn’t before and think a lot.

I have never felt such peace and control over myself in my entire life. It makes me think that everything I went through all those years ago was worth it, that I should appreciate what I have right now and make up for it. Positively, I feel like the world is poking me with a stick, giving me all these possibilities and resources and going “what can YOU do?” Oh i’ll show you, alright. I like the challenge!

Right after finishing Ocean (which, really, was a piece of hard work) I took a small rest from webmaking to work on something else, and picked up my work on my OC lore. I have been thinking about it almost obsessively; writing and drawing them all the time, planning, scheming, whatever. It’s so fun and stimulating to me. You will surely find out about them eventually – I haven’t posted about them here. I think I will use this entry as an opportunity to talk about my philosophy on OC making.

On OC making
Keep in mind everything I will say here is my own, personal opinion, and you are of course on your own right of not sharing it.
I am tired of shallow characters inspired by anime media. I think there is a lot of richness lost in trying to make characters visually appealing. However, I understand that a) They look very cool b) There is a reason fiction is fiction and reality is reality, fiction doesn't need to abide by it whatsoever — but I personally am able to connect with my work more intensely when my characters look and feel like someone I could perfectly meet in real life, see walking on the street, whatever. I believe that making characters overly appealing and Mary Sue-y (Even “evil” OCs that are theoretically very disgusting people are romanticized and portrayed as beautiful by their authors. Don’t get me wrong, I love me an attractive villain that makes you feel guilty about liking them, but that attraction is ten times more effective when it comes from their complex personality and character instead of their Tumblr Sexyman appearance) is not only boring, but redundant.

Why is your “incel 4channer shut-in” “hikikomori” (very trendy things at the moment) OC hegemonic, clean and attractive? Why is it that your characters with complicated, traumatic pasts don’t suffer from any dislikeable, unstable consequences inherent in having trauma? Characters are, again, more charming when they make sense. I first began having these thoughts when, at 15, I went “Hold on. Why do my characters dress like this?” I tried imagining them putting on their complex attire everyday, estimating how much time they took putting on their convoluted makeup, thinking how uncomfortable it must be to do what they did all day with all that on. It made no sense; I simply couldn’t picture some of my OCs that were supposed to have disinterested, rebellious and non-conforming attitudes caring that much about their appearance and keeping in shape and whatnot. And my thoughts began to change.

I then continued maturing and learning as any teenager would and began finding great interest in portraying physiques and features that were commonly regarded as unattractive. I began drawing lots of older people as well, becoming obsessed with the idea of making all my characters have different, distinct body types and features. Getting into Disco Elysium also served as great inspiration – easily one of the best games of all time when it comes to character design and worldbuilding.

TL;DR: Art’s “same face syndrome” is also a thing in character building. However, at the end of the day, although I myself enjoy characters when they are sensical, engaging and human, OC making is about having fun and that ultimately doesn’t really matter. It does matter when it comes to judging fiction though, as there are hundreds of highly-valued media prioritizing making their characters visually appealing and lacking on diversity for the sake of profit (see: Mihoyo). No, individual artist, your fictional world doesn’t have to be attractive nor eye-catching to anyone but yourself. Algorithms kill creativity. Don’t please. Experiment!

Day of the Lords - Joy Division

Today I am choosing to write this entry in english because I’m going to get deeply personal on things that hurt me very much, and second language-ing is pretty effective when it comes to emotional detachment.

I’ve been lingering on this unspeakable sadness for quite some time now. It hangs on what feels are the insides of my chest like a primordial wound that just won’t close, no matter how hard I try to part from it, to sew it myself. It has fed off me for most of my life though it does feel like it comes and goes. Hurting beyond everything I can express.
It is none other than my struggles with gender.

I’m frustrated with the way I’m classified into society and how I’m treated because of it. It wouldn’t matter if the people I loved and cared about didn’t fall into these hurtful rhetorics, but they do, very much. I don’t want to be treated differently, nor be prey to what others expect of me and see as right and feel a sharp, indescribable pain when I realize the perception of someone I love consists of label first, person second.

I don’t experience “dysphoria”, nor think I must change my body to feel valid and real. I don’t give a fuck about labels. I wouldn’t be less angry if I was born with opposing genitalia and biology – fundamentalists can seriously go fuck themselves. There is nothing wrong with me, nor is there something that must be fixed about me. What I think is fucked up is that everyone wants me to act and behave a certain way just because of something I was born with. Want me to adhere to a fake logic that shapes my understanding of not only myself, but everyone and everything around me.
It is hard to feel lovable when you spend your entire life being alienated because you decide not to follow said logic as radically as possible. I’ve also grown acutely aware about every little thing everyone says and does that is even remotely shaped by gender biases, no matter if they’re cisgender, queer, trans whatever. It all sickens me very much.

But the worst of all is that I really do want to love people and be loved back; so, so desperately, but it’s so hard. It’s always been hard. This is bigger than I could ever describe. No, hold on – what I think is even worse (it’s something I’ve actually talked about with my older brother figure actually) is that my “gender expression” is merely reactionary. My legal name change? My birth name is inherently tied to the idea of a “girls name”. My preference for “masculine” pronouns? To contradict people’s perceptions. Not shaving? They think people born with my body should shave. Not settling with a particular gendered style of clothing? They think people who defy gender should try to be “real”.

If somehow gender wasn’t a concept I wouldn’t be thinking about all that because nobody would. You wouldn’t. If you lived alone on an island for the rest of your life do you think you would be preoccupied with adhering to expectations tied to gender as much? Probably not. I sometimes think I’m pathetic and unhappy because my self expression is, ironically, tied to people's perceptions as they can get while simultaneously trying to oppose and rebel against them, but then I remember literally every single human relation is built on pushing and pulling this way. Under that logic I should admit all human interaction is “pathetic and unhappy”. I choose not to think that although it could perfectly be true because, unlike others, I am trying not to kill myself! Thank you for reading. Have a nice evening.

Rust

Song of the day: All the Pretty Little Horsies - Current 93

Estoy atravesando una especie de crisis creativa. Pero no en el sentido tradicional de la palabra, estoy hablando de una sobrecarga de creatividad. Mi cabeza da vueltas y vueltas en cosas que podría hacer y empezar, se entretiene con ideas elaboradas y fantásticas y se abruma a sí misma con ellas como si me hubiera pegado un martillazo en la cabeza. Quiero hacer un juego (en RPG Maker), otro juego (en LightVN), un comic, un point-and-click adventure (comic pero más Online Y Cool), escribir una novela, componer música, centrarme en dibujar y pintar en tradicional, centrarme en dibujar y pintar en digital, leer muchos libros (dejé uno de Arendt, otro de Jung, una antología de Marx y otro de Márquez sin terminar; pero más me llama la atención empezar nuevos. Específicamente de Bolaño), escuchar nueva música, hacer y re-hacer páginas web (estoy volviéndome loco pensando en re-hacer index.html ahora mismo), empezar a estudiar ciertos temas/autores que me interesan (tengo que retomar mis estudios amateur, livianos y por diversión de botánica, biología marina y sociología), etcétera.

Estamos de acuerdo en que todo esto es literalmente demencial y hasta patético. Hago mucho, pero siempre termino pensando más de lo que hago. Idealmente yo tendría que ser capaz de organizar mi tiempo y mi energía en vez de vomitar pensamientos, dejando de planear cosas que nunca voy a hacer por ser incapaz de ponerme en orden, pero se me hace difícil. Mayoritariamente paso mi tiempo libre por mi cuenta y cuando no estoy estudiando percusión me meto de lleno en todos estos passion projects. Es muy, muy divertido y estimulante para mí, pero soy demasiado idealista y es fácil entusiasmarme – cuando me entretengo con una idea mi cerebro comienza a hacer planes y proyecciones desproporcionadas y pongo temporalmente de lado lo que estaba haciendo. Funciono a base de hiperfijaciones, pasiones y focos; y no es algo que me enorgullezca. Los fundamentalistas del eneagrama serán remitidos al tipo 7.

Casi termino con mis parciales (YAY, YUPI, etc.), y se vienen todos estos acontecimientos sociales importantes para los que no estoy tan preparado. Estimo salir abrumado y cansado, más por ellos que por el estudio. No tengo muchas más noticias – volví a jugar Yume 2kki, qué juego del bien. Me inspira mucho. Flying Fish World es el mejor mundo y no acepto críticas jejjejej

Rust

Música del día: Culpable Eternamente - Charly García, Pedro Aznar

”Sense is a spark between us
Sense is a cross-armed glance, and silent nod between us
Both shackled, and accessed by a constant waltz
Of pushing air, and wagging tongues
The intimate marriage of sensation and response
An exchange of jargon from one orifice to the next
All my thoughts are colorless green ideas sleep furiously
All my thoughts, every one
And through this, I admire the farce of control
And my total lack of wind, ship, sails, and oar
Every grip sustained on tangible artifact
Is an amusing thought, and nothing more”

Today has been interesting. I finished my most recent read, Bolaño’s La Literatura Nazi en América, and it has become my favorite book of all time. It apparently isn’t the best introduction to Bolaño, but I couldn’t care less – it was excellent, and it’s not often that a book entertains me this way. I began re-reading it as soon as I finished it, and am planning to write a formal review on it soon.
It is not one of those books you can just put down and move on. There are so, so many layers to it, and I’m having such a wonderful time mincing it! I should probably continue my other reads, such as Márquez’s Cien Años de Soledad (From which I have so little left…) and Jung’s Psychologie und Religion, but Bolaño has really charmed me!

I didn’t do so well in percussion class today, school midterms keeping me busy have stopped me from practicing properly. My boggled mind isn’t helping either but my teacher is understanding with me, which I deeply appreciate… I’ve got to organize my studying better – I already started in fact, and have a clear picture of what I have to improve at.

There are some factors that make my studying a bit difficult however, the main one being my debilitating social anxiety, that stops me from feeling safe and comfortable in practice rooms when there’s people around and consequently makes it hard to concentrate. The other students from the percussion course are much older, experienced, and definitely less shy than me, and I get inexplicably anxious around them. They aren’t bad by any means and are in fact really awesome people but I’m just like that. Awkward around the people I look up to!

None of that stops me from doing my absolute best, however. I know I’m doing good.

Yesterday’s title was part of a quote from French painter Maurice Von Vlaminck, since I had to study fauvism for an art history test I had today. Today’s opening lyrics are from the song of the day.

Song of the day: Man Proposes, God Disposes - Sprain

Nada que destacar de los últimos días. Me he estado centrando mucho en mis estudios, manteniendo las cosas bajo control y luchando por organizar mi tiempo de tal manera en la cual pueda preservar mi salud e inspiración. Encuentro que no puedo poner pausa a mi creación, incluso en momentos tan ocupados del año, incluso cuando el desgaste mental deteriora su calidad. Estoy dibujando, escribiendo y pensando mucho a pesar de las circunstancias.

Expandiendo sobre el asunto de la calidad, ayer estuve particularmente frustrado pensando en cómo no me gusta mi estilo de dibujo. A veces me pongo a ver dibujos de otros artistas por mucho tiempo; notando sus formas de hacer las cosas, procesar las formas y el color, y empiezo a hacer una lista mental crítica de todo lo que carezco en cuestión de técnica. La repaso viciosamente, y como si estuviera en el ánimo de descuartizar un cadáver con un cuchillo de plástico, me siento con mi sketchbook a sumirme en un ciclo de hacer líneas tocas y frustradas, borrarlas…

En lo que no pienso es en que probablemente todos los artistas que admiro estudian dibujo como yo estudio percusión: dedicándole la mayoría de su tiempo; sentándose múltiples horas al día, aprendiendo en alguna academia… y yo soy nada más que un tipo con un hobby. Toda esta cuestión regresa a que me considero capaz de hacer cualquier cosa si realmente quiero, que puedo alcanzar a hacer todo lo que me proponga como una especie de superhombre. Entiendo que no suena como un pensamiento necesariamente negativo, pero me pongo a estándares irrealistas e inhumanos de vez en cuando.

Parte de madurar, y más que nada, comprometerse primordialmente a un objetivo en concreto, es entender que no se puede hacer todo. Tengo dos problemas que me lo impiden, sin embargo: mi idealismo y mi narcisismo.

Entre otras cosas: Estoy descansando mejor. Estoy leyendo con más regularidad. No estoy escuchando música caminando por la calle tan seguido; me detengo a pensar en el sonido de los árboles, los pájaros, los autos, la gente. Mi paciencia con las personas disminuyó significativamente por lo que asumo que es el cansancio de final de curso.
Simple Guide to Disembodiment da vueltas y vueltas en mi cabeza – bueno, todo el sitio de Vashti en general. Lo amo con locura. Me inspira muchísimo y adoro leer sus páginas repetidas veces. Es increíble que la guía haya aparecido después de mis reflexiones anteriores sobre la importancia de aburrirse, y mi motivación general por la desconexión.

Three Movements for Orchestra - Steve Reich

today has been surprisingly calm. a chill saturday, if you will. i worked on an important assignment i must have ready by next wednesday and on this page as well. i designed my new sona and made some graphics for it, that are now visible on the front page. i am not 100% happy with them

i’m also heavily thinking about remaking the entirety of the front page, but i’ve got to be patient and get realismomágico out of what is its “beta version” in my head (aka finishing the works page) and not rushing!

work’s next entry, the ocean is coming soon. probably later today, actually - it depends on how much i get into its making. i still need to roam around the web for inspiration, like i usually do when it comes to these things.

i hope you all are having a wonderful weekend!
Xx. Rust

song of the day: tabú - gustavo cerati

i spent 40 minutes talking to myself today. it was very therapeutic, so i will begin doing so more often. don’t get me wrong, i’m constantly thinking to myself and going into insane mind loops, but i don’t frequent sitting down to exclusively talk out loud. i do ramble to myself while walking through the street (i don’t mind people eyeing me for that now that i think about it), but it isn’t the same. today was very special, i even teared up a little! i like having myself as company, but i did talk about how great it’d be to have someone who complemented me both artistically and intellectually. it’s not a thought i like to linger on for long however, since i’m not really a yearner. but i do realize i live in a sort of spiral-like solipsism in some regards, something i think having people i could exchange thoughts with in a nurturing way could help with. human connection am i right

i keep thinking, thinking and thinking. thinking… thinking… so much. every second of the day. a thing about me is that i tend to doodle and draw a lot in my sketchbook during class, since my learning is mostly audio-based and keeping my hands busy helps. however, in this new “living in the moment and giving things its given time” thing i am trying to embrace, i’m just realizing said habit is keeping me from living the… student experience? of sitting down in a classroom and whatnot. now that i think about it, i actually began drawing obsessively and isolating myself from the class atmosphere as a coping mechanism back in my old school, where i would suffer a lot. not only am i not in a hostile environment anymore, but i’m also learning things that actually interest me (at university). i believe that, next year, when i finally enter university formally, i will make an effort to quit the habit. i only have 2 and a half weeks of class left for this year after all so it doesn’t really make a difference

i took a conscious look at my website after wondering what impression i’d make on a newcomer and realized that i don’t think i… look… exactly approachable? i sound insane sometimes. how i format stuff too… i don’t know. i don’t want to be “normal” (whatever that means) but i also want to make friends here i think. GAHHH WHAT AM I SAYING! i need to be true to myself. when i created this website i pleaded that i would prioritize shameless creation and expression - i overall grew to not really care about what others think of me.

i’m conscious of the fact i am a bit of an Oddball no matter how i try to get around social interaction. the way people react to what i do and say are proof of it. there is no fundamental right way of existing, of presenting oneself to the world, but shame is an unstoppable force. the real puppeteer! i sometimes feel like i must apologize for the way i am; and i do, more frequently than i like to admit. but at the end of the day, happiness is only achieved through transparency. so even after muttering ”stupidstupidstupid”, biting my fist or growing so red i feel my entire body burning after i do something particularly awkward, i will always try to like being myself. realismomagico is a self expression statement. It is okay to be off putting. So long!

today's entry title is a reference to Verne's Le Testament d'un excentrique.
today's song: the flower called nowhere - stereolab

i maintain a small generalized anxiety that i can’t really escape from. i’ve noticed other people’s anxieties tend to focus on what others might do/think, but mine is more of an obsessive loop of constantly thinking about what i could be doing, or how i could be taking a better approach to whatever i’m currently focusing on. i’m in this immature cycle of wanting to use every single second of my time for something useful and productive instead of allowing myself to not think or do anything on occasion. in my logic, i am capable of rewiring my brain to make rest mean indulging in things i deem important - and it certainly isn’t entirely wrong, because a lot of the things i spend my free time on and perceive as “rest” maybe aren’t for some. but i developed that by forcing myself to include them in my routine!

i had to kill some time before literature club today and decided to continue with the book i’m currently reading, which i constantly keep in my backpack for moments like those - and got really frustrated because i began feeling sleepy, eyes burning and closing on their own because of how tired i was. it happens to me on occasion and i know i must close the book and resume it when i can really enjoy the read, but it was hard to deal with the frustration of having to get back to my phone and scroll mindlessly when i could be reading. i know it’s a bit silly, but i want reading, which is a very valuable activity for me (and a great source of artistic inspiration!), to be as engaging and casual as scrolling through social media. i’ve had this thought for a long time now. i remember writing the problems i came across when i began incorporating the habit in a notebook of mine:

a) you must be in a quiet place that doesn’t distract you to read. i don’t frequent those. the places where i’d like to kill time with a read aren’t suitable for it
b) i like to process what i’m reading and get the most of it, but i’m not always capable of doing so. my mind is too boggled and tired sometimes. for that, it’s better to just not read!

books can’t replace scrolling. what i’m thinking is that i probably should stop trying to fill every single space of my time with an activity and sometimes embrace getting bored, letting thoughts flow, or just exist in silence. inactively. get bored NOW!

in other news, i bought george harrison’s autobiography, i me mine! after so many years of wanting it really badly!! which is huge to me. i just began reading it and it does feel like having a conversation with him in a way. it’s Kewl. i love parasocial relationships with dead musicians (sarcasm). i also drew him today. have a look

the text speech bubble is something he actually said in an interview. it’s not me being #AntiAuthority #Rebellious #He’sSoCrazyILoveHim … the quote was taken out of context and put in a meme … i never found it again though. i had to immortalize it

song of the day: this specific version of run of the mill

first journal entry holy shite… hi! i’m writing this right after finishing setting up this page! i think this is the heaviest most tedious part of webmaking… having to sit down and actually use stuff for what you made it for LOL i hope i can get to actively write here! i find more value in documenting my little doings in a private, personal place like this rather than social media. i can’t feel anybody’s gazes on me, or obsessively check how many people have liked my story. it’s just me and this empty google docs that i will eventually export into my webpage. sweet!

today was pretty uneventful. i begin my midterms next week and i’m honestly not as stressed as i thought i would be? this is my last year of highschool and everyone seems to be living it with extreme intensity, but i feel very calm. my studies outside school are going surprisingly well (Because of my obsessive behavior towards it) and i feel like pretty much every aspect of my life is under control. hooray!

i’ve been obsessing over the beatles real bad. Like. real bad. it’s no secret i’m incredibly ill about my hyperfixations and am in a constant mind loop of not being able to indulge in anything outside of them in my free time. chatting w/ fans online threw me into the stupid social media loop i hate so much yet again -_- so i’m forcing myself to actively work on this page to counter that. i want to make a beatles shrine so bad guys… maybe i will. i’ve been writing essays and rant posts about them to an excessive degree. i have so many thoughts! Autism is afraid of me

i have more things to say but i will keep them for future entries. The brain juice isn’t infinite i’m afraid. so long! see you tomorrow!

song of the day: gimme some truth by john lennon