“I had forgotten that until you brought it up.” I am 16, in my older brother’s car in the lay-by a couple roads from my house, asking about how he felt in my position, the year he didn’t speak to dad. He pulled over because he had remembered the funeral of a childhood friends father, and visiting him in hospice before he died. His words are choked and his face wet with tears.

I carry a rope with me wherever I go

I will stare at street lamps or branches for as long as I can

I'm too weak to actually do it

But the thought of having it there is comforting

So I learned to write to express myself or just share on Facebook and Tumblr or watch YouTube music with the lyrics .

I made this blog with the intention of joining the studyblr community, but it doesn't hurt to throw some personal journaling in too.

It was warm today, sunny too, so I grabbed my most comfortable boots and headed out on one of my not so famous "adventures." It started off normal, of course, walking past the various bars and statues scattered throughout the college town. They were never my thing, but I've grown somewhat fond of the familiar territory. It's nice that there's plenty of things to use as landmarks since I can't find my way anywhere without a GPS. I gave the nose of the university's opossum mascot statue a rub for luck, then diverged from the sidewalk in favor of the "scenic" route.

It was peaceful, just enjoying the sunshine that peaked through the trees and climbing over rocks and run down fences. Rubbing the opossum's nose must've worked, because right by one of the fences was a dead bunny! The poor thing was half eaten and covered in those really pretty flies that have an iridescent green body. I took a picture and wished it a good afterlife. or reincarnation? or at least some peace in its eternal rest.

But none of that was new. The reason I felt the need to write this down is the woods spit me out right next to a bunch of cool stores I've never seen before. One of them was a coffee shop I'd never heard of, so I figured I'd give it a try.

The place was cooler than I could've imagined- alternative music was playing over the speakers, skull decor, and almost all the drinks had silly edgy names to match the aesthetic. I ordered a tea called "The Cure" (lemon, ginger, and just a hint of mint mixed together with some honey), then decided to do a little people watching while I waited for it to cool.

It was by no means crowded, but it was still fascinating to see that literally everyone there had an alternative look. There was an incredibly fun mixture of subcultures, but I found myself coming back again and again to this one punk looking guy there.

His hair was a grayish colour and he had a collection of piercings that complemented his jacket, which had a bunch of patches and some metal embellishments, including spikes. He was clearly pretty tall too; his chair looked tiny by comparison, and his legs didn't fit well under the table, leaving them pressed against the wood above them. Despite his obvious size and style, he still looked nervous to be there.

I know anyone can have anxiety, but there was something about seeing a man who would be labeled "trouble" by the average person being in such an uncomfortable state himself. I know it sounds mean, but the stark contrast was kind of amusing. I'd love to know how aware he is of the irony.

He noticed my staring, and I guess it made him uncomfortable because he rushed out pretty soon after catching on. As I drank my tea, I couldn't stop dwelling on the situation. I wish I could say I'm sorry; I never mean to stare for too long, but when something catches my eye it just... happens.

C'est la vie. I'll probably go back to the coffee shop again to try their other drinks, maybe a pastry too, so there's still a chance I'll see him again. Maybe I'll work up the nerve to apologize at this hypothetical next time.

i guess i may as well make a post christening this latest ill-fated project of mine. i feel like hey, journaling might help my mental health but my stupid hands are too weak to write long with a pen and i have a lot of shit i wanna say to get out of my brain. and then i get the bright idea of creating a journal online that i can type in instead, but using tumblr so i can post photos, instead of using a google doc. 

ill-fated because i’m 90% sure i’ve already tried this. i have a personal blog so why do i need another? just write on there, right? but what if someone i need to vent about finds it because they’re following me? oh the horror.

so i have this thing instead. spent over a day trying to customise it for literally no reason because again, i’m prolly gonna give up after like, a week. every time i create a blog i end up vanishing from it because SessionBox doesn’t work and i can’t have multiple accounts open at once, so you log into one and then the others are out of sight out of mind. 

but whatever. i might as well use it while i have it. um...

i dunno why but i’ve been even more in the dumps than usual lately. i think because the slew of distractions i’ve created for myself while i recover from top surgery are beginning to lose steam, as well as the fact i’m getting closer and closer to having to go back to work which i’m definitely not looking forward to, really.

so that results in my brain going on a downspiral. i miss ziggy. i miss zoya. i’m pissed off at the government, pissed off at corporations, pissed off at myself. i feel hopeless about the future and don’t see much of a point in it, and if i think too much about it, it starts to make me panicky...

[taking a step away to do other stuff, will finish this later.]

[back to work on it a bit longer before i go outside; currently it’s 1:09PM on 8/21/22]

but yeah. i hate thinking about the future because one, i don’t see much of one for me, and two, ‘the future’ means ‘losing more loved ones’ and ‘things changing’ and i hate all of that. i dont want to think of or prepare for loved ones passing away or leaving me, any more than i want to focus too long on losing zoya. i keep thinking that i’m dealing with her passing away super well, but then i realise no, i’m not, what i’m doing is frantically distracting myself in any way possible so that i don’t have to think about it.

because if you don’t think about something or ignore something’s existence, then it didn’t happen/isn’t happening, right? because that’s how the world works.

except it doesn’t, and i KNOW that i’m setting myself up for an even worse breakdown when inevitably, my brain can’t continue distracting itself properly, and everything i’ve been burying down in the “If I Ignore It It Doesn’t Exist” area caves in. it’ll be so much worse because i’m not actually confronting and learning to cope with or at least go through all the worst fallout with so many issues.

i think what pisses me off most is that i’m AWARE of this. i KNOW i’m setting myself up for a bigger mess than it needs to be, and yet i can’t seem to figure out how to allow myself to deal with it the way i should.

and all of that just culminates in me refusing to think about the future, for many of the same reasons, outside of a near-constant black cloud of dread that i’m wasting my life, and even if i have a chance of making something of myself, i’m not taking the steps to and as such am just fucking myself over.

i want to at least TRY to be an actor, try to get into film and television and maybe writing on the side. i want to move to vancouver, canada, both because it’s not the US and because if i move there i’ll be closer to both more film/television opportunities and the actors i hope to maybe someday be friends with. i want to find a job that i can at least stomach AND make enough money to survive on without wanting to kill myself or have a mental breakdown every other day over. i want to learn how to do so many things.

but when i even think about all the steps it’ll take to get to any of those conclusions, i start to balk.

[going outside, i’ll come back later]

[4:09PM, 8/21/22, back again]

like. let’s go into it here for starters, and acknowledge that this is probably only half of the list of things i’ll need to do.

so for me to get into acting, i have a list of shit i have to get done first. i need to either get to a point with my body where i am okay with it OR learn to kick my insecurities; i need to stop being afraid of getting stage fright; i need to stop letting myself hold myself back because of dumb shit like “I’m too old now” or “what if I’m not actually good at it”. after all the mental gymnastics is settled, I most likely have to go take theatre classes or acting classes, or at the very least find a good “beginners’ place” to start putting my feet back into the water. then if i’m specifically focusing on television/film, i’m gonna need some sort of an actor’s reel, so i’ll have to find things - probably voice acting work or student films - nearby i can do some work with. then i have to start an actor’s reel. then i have to figure out how to find auditions for things, and then make sure i’m at a point where i can afford/manage to get a hold of whatever i need to find auditions, and THEN i most likely will have an easier time getting auditions if i hire an agent - which means i have to figuer out that process, then find an agent i jive with, THEN set all that up.

writing is a less strenuous aspect in that i don’t have as many steps i need to take for that, but it’s still an ordeal simply because writing in my state is an ordeal. no matter how excited i get over an idea or how determined i am to sit down and write on a regular basis, i can’t seem to get anything to stick for long. so i need to figure out how to one, get a routine together that works for whatever place in life i’m at at the time, and two, get over the mental roadblock of feeling like i’m a shitty writer or stressing too much about whether it’s ‘good’, and then three, work on my mental health to at least a point where i can actually FOLLOW said routine without just giving up due to depression fog, fatigue, ADHD distraction, or whatever else. THEN i have to actually plot out, outline, write, edit, and rewrite an actual work. THEN i have the process, most likely, of sending out query letters, searching for a publisher, advertising it once it actually (if it actually) gets accepted, and then probably even more advertising and whatever else publishing requires. 

[sigh. i’m leaving AGAIN. i’ll be back.]

[back again probably for the last time. 7:25PM, 8/21/22]

now the moving thing. i don’t even know how to BEGIN going about that. so i guess to start with i need to find someone who can walk me through the steps, or find resources some place that are easy enough for me to understand, and then start whatever that undoubtedly lengthy process is. i’m almost certainly going to need to go back to school; either to start off by getting a student’s visa or whatever OR to try and get qualified for a job Canada will see as ‘useful’ because they only allow people to immigrate if they have some sort of job that would be beneficial to the country from what i hear. so on paper yeah, that looks like two steps, but they’re two broad steps with dozens of little ones and a whole lot of stress and commitment under the surface. and there’s no promise i even WOULD manage to get to live there. maybe they wouldn’t accept me. also, i’m not sure how i’ll handle being away from my mom that long. one reason i’m hoping for vancouver is because it’s still a decent distance away from Seattle, i could drive down for visits as often as i was able, but like... still.

also i’ll have to figure out a job that will let me earn enough to have my own place up there too. god only knows if the acting/television/film would work out - and befriending actors i’m hoping to get to know is even more of a slim chance. 

finding a job that both lets me earn enough money to survive AND is  tolerable almost seems impossible. i don’t even know how to go about doing that. i’ve been trying for years. i thought [redacted] would be a good option but management is unbearable there. i know management sucks everywhere but i swear to god it’s even more unbearable where i’m at. and i’m still not getting a living wage.

it seems like the only chance i have of getting a job i can both handle and survive on is most likely either a job that requires a bachelor’s degree - which is its own struggle - or like... somehow lucking out as an intern and then employee at some office building or big ole corporation. or i have to learn a new skill like IT. or i have to somehow get my body to a point where physical jobs are an option. all things that are again, seemingly one step but have a billion smaller steps underneath. and it’s part of why i’m so full of hopelessness for the future - if i can’t even find a job that i can work at without breaking down AND make enough money to live in even a place with roommates, then where the fuck will i end up eventually?

then all the learning stuff... i wanna learn how to play guitar, how to draw, how to skateboard, how to sing, how to (properly) act and do filmmaking, and learn to dance - how will i ever find time and energy enough for all of that when i can barely manage to scrape up enough energy and time to work a part time job that doesn’t pay enough?

and even beside all that, there’s so much i want to do in general; so many books i want to read, games i want to play, films and shows i want to watch, music i want to listen to - i want to go out to parties, and actually make friends, and i want to explore cities and the woods and go horseback riding and learn to ride/buy a motorbike and go bar-hopping and go to concerts and the theatre and to coffeeshops. there’s so much i want to do and so many places i want to go and how will i ever be able to afford any of it, much less find time and energy to do it? i want to so badly but i don’t know how.

i don’t know. you can see why i’m feelnig so hopeless, i’d imagine, my friend. and i hate it. i wanna be excited for my future but when it looks like my future holds nothing at all, it’s difficult to find the ability to be.

i’m done with this entry, it’s taken far too long and IS far too long. i’ll come back soon probably.