My Journey

Today, I sit down once again after who knows how many months to just go through the motions again. I had this notion that I wanted to start working on a specific idea of mine and finish it. I started writing a book called How To Live, which I should honestly get back to, now that I mention it. Life has a funny way about it. It guides you, pulls you, and calls you toward certain directions. It becomes clear that these are particularly crucial for the living creature to pursue. Then, the same great ineffable forces do everything imaginable to distract you from those very things, like a strange game of reverse chicken.  It's clear to me now, as in my quietest of moments, that I'd love nothing more than to make fictional stories. Stories that can be experienced visually, so they may be experienced universally, and create a powerful impact. Yet, in my waking hours, that dream is nowhere to be seen, other than faint reminders felt through memes, hobbies, and paraphilia. It's so c...

Even after the 275.98 billion songs, posts, and movies, people are stumped when I ask that question. "You can't really define love. It's not something you can put into words, just feel in your heart." Is something I hear a lot. Kind of like comedy, if you have to explain the joke, it ain't funny. People have an aversion to breaking down magical things like love and laughter into their basic components with the aim to understand their inner workings better, like dissecting a dead body.  Well, luckily for our readers, no one tells me what to do. If I want to butcher a proverbial unicorn, you can't really stop me. HA! Perks of being an author. Anyway, obviously, love is a very loose term. Like a dirty slut, if you may (unsurprisingly). Since so many different things are associated with it. For instance, the line between love and hate is thinner than a knife's edge. Yet fear is the opposite of love. And you should love thy neighbor, but also your enemy. Becaus...

So I've been writing a lot recently. I have a full time job at a direct marketing agency specialising in SMS. For them, I write social media copy, captions, plans, blogs, articles, website content (more copy), messages (as in client communication), reports, and things of that nature. Then, I write LinkedIn posts and articles for a client on freelance basis. Of course, I also have a whole bunch of projects I'm always working on mentally and a lot of great ideas I want to explore. I also try to help my mom, dad, and friends with whatever strategic or writing assistence I can provide, although I'd love to do a lot more. All this work and no play? I try to make it so that work is play. Alas, it ain't meant to be. In the real world, we need to execute and fulfil our obligations in timeley manners. I think that's pretty great in itself, but not when you're trying to make a job out of your passion. Either way, when I wrote another entry here about leaving my job yester...

I think it's only appropriate to write here now that I've decided to leave my full-time job.  That's because before joining this place (where I am writing from currently), I was writing this kind of diary-style steam of consciousness blog very often. While I aimed to do it every single day, I think I only managed an average of 3 posts per week lol. I used to do it primarily as a means to the end of becoming a better writer, which seems so strange now. Now, I did come in and write for a few days in the middle, I think, but mostly I haven't had the bandwidth to keep this thing going. I put in my resignation almost a week ago, but I just had a discussion with my about it boss, and I feel all kinds of messed up because of it. So let's get into it man, let me pour my heart out on these pixels. I gave my interview in a mix of serendipity and turbulence. One year ago, in February, I had just spent 3-4 months in suspended animation after my last gig went belly up. It was ex...

Faith in God is by far one of the most useful things for a majority of people in today's world. Religions have gotten countless many out of some really dark times. Clearly, having survived for millenniums, it provides some utility to enough of us. I've felt the liberating experience myself. When I was young, I felt nothing really mattered. With the lack of any real system of values, I was exposed to the popular culture of the 2000s which revolved around atheism & liberty.  My parents were born Hindu but chose to distance themselves from the temples that disillusioned them. Instead, they found peace in Nichiren Daishonen's Buddhism. They would chant & send me to a meeting here & there, but it never really stuck & they chose not to further impose it on me. I started to lean toward Dale Carnegie, Stephen Covey & the like. Americans greatly influenced me as I grew up watching all their media, from Smosh & Ryan Higa on YouTube to Jim Carrey & Tom Crui...

There are many days, especially when I try to create for any number of days in a row, where I clearly don't know what I want to talk about. Looking back, anyone can find that on those days, I just end up reminding myself why I started. Like a broken record on repeat, I tell myself about the greats, how they all had personal journals, & that if I keep creating every day, I'll eventually get better at it. So why beat around the bush? This is one of those days, so let's embrace this concept! I really do love having something to do. "An idle mind is the devil's playground." comes to mind. Recently, I've been learning the meaning of inner work. I've been unraveling my thoughts & motivation, bringing my fractured parts closer together. I won't go off on a tangent here about mending & healing, but I have been genuinely questioning my motivations simply for understanding's sake. Sure, there is a crushing sense of terror in my heart of heart...

Something feels different. I've been trying so hard to move this invisible needle that measures some ineffable, yet omnipresent quality of my life. So desperate for change, I ran about in a trance, sometimes like a waterfall crashing into the rocks, sometimes like a headless chicken. I tried A, nothing happened. Then I tried B, to no avail. More of A, less of B, AB, BA, AAB, BBA, BAB, ABA, & so on... I felt like the grind started to erode me to my core, changing the shape of my soul. I started to feel more and more like a stranger to myself with every passing moment.  Looking at myself in the mirror, feeling my own body, hearing my voice, I felt an ick I couldn't wash away, a weight that wouldn't come off my chest no matter how many distorted twists & turns I contorted my body in. Considering this to be my new reality, I worked to accept this as best I could. Then came the numbness, the sleep, the hunger, & greed. After that? Anger. A violent, destructive, terri...