Friday, December 5, 2014

I never got off the bus. I still haven't.

Why do people struggle so much with putting meaning into their lives?

Honestly, I saw this question on AskReddit. Which doesn't only say something about me, but also just says something about modern society, what the Internet and accessibility has done to us, philosophical Childish Gambino's Because the Internet shit, etc. etc. 

But, like, also, I'm sitting here waiting for my Calculus midterm to start while people are starving on the other side of the world. Someone's not gonna be able to afford to eat dinner tonight and I'm wondering what I'm gonna get for Christmas. Shit like that bothers me, and that doesn't make me special or anything-- like, just because I think about third-world countries and poverty doesn't magically make me a good person, because I'm never gonna experience real hardship. And experiencing hardship doesn't make you a good person in the same way that growing up in luxury doesn't make you terrible. It just makes it hard to put any meaning into anything that I do.

We're still living in a world where we still have to prove that the lives of all people matter, not just based on skin color or gender or sexual preference or whatever. And we're still living in a world where money can determine whether your life is important enough to save or not, where my parents have to pay a small fortune just so I can study something so that I can spend the rest of my life hating my career, etc. etc. It's just all so pointless and ridiculous that I laugh at the meaninglessness of it all.

I don't even get to do the things that I enjoy anymore. I don't get to write, or take photographs, or make videos, or even paint. I used to make excuses-- I don't have enough time, I need to study, I don't have any inspiration. But that's not fucking true. There's always years ahead until they're gone, minutes to be spent that are wasted. And I study my ass off but I still feel like I fail at every test I take and piece of homework I turn in regardless of the grade I receive, because there's no passion in how I study and what I'm studying, really. I live a five minute walk from the beach, amongst some of the most beautiful views and opportunities in California, with people who each have their own characters and secrets to discover and learn about.

It's just really hard to find meaning in any of it, and I don't know why I do and always have struggle with it. Like, day-to-day activities and long-term goals, joining fraternities and going to clubs, going out to parties or hanging out with friends; it's hard to find meaning in any of it. 

I thought I had a grasp on it, and sometimes I really do; I get so close. I can't really remember where I put the passion in anything I do, but I remember the feeling of it, and I'm going to continue looking for it.


Thursday, October 2, 2014

All good things


there goes the best summer of my life, basically.

 it's been a good ride. life lessons and lots of ice cream. different countries and different states. lazy days and california adventures. the kind of stuff you can't forget.

some things are always gonna be hard to leave behind.


i went exploring with a couple of new friends the other day. i'd walk miles to watch this sunset every evening, but i only have to walk five minutes.

i'm pretty happy here. it feels early and i know i haven't found it yet, but i'm starting to figure out what i want. but i'll never know for sure. 

i miss my dog. i miss my best friend. both would love it here.


Thursday, September 4, 2014

Nothing was the same

so, this summer changed my life, yo. 

like in both a good and a bad way. it's a funny thing.

this has been both the best and the worst summer of my life in some kind of weird, twisted way. 

it seems like just yesterday we were dreaming of unlimited possibilities late night at parks with strangers and racing cars down eleventh street to see who could create the perfect mixture of milkshake flavors. i still remember sitting in a circle in my backyard, nodding our heads to music we thought we could relate to. sometimes if i close my eyes at the right time i can still imagine sitting in cars with people that i thought would never change, winding through roads that i thought for sure would never end. memories always look closer in the rearview mirror. but that's just how i feel.

back then everything seemed so infinite. everything seemed so achievable. now the future is murky. deadlines are too close and they come in droves. everything feels so impossible.

i don't know what i'm doing. i'll be the first to admit it. i used to put up a front like i had everything figured out. i just thought that i would be something by now. i used to be a leader, you know. now it feels like i'm not even the main character in my own story.

but at the same time, it's all good. i'm not even tripping. that's just how it is sometimes. you gotta lose control just to show yourself that life isn't there solely for the purpose of going your way. let the world slap you in the face a couple times. let reality beat the shit out of you just to remind you what rock bottom feels like against soft baby skin. 

listen to the words: "the world is not a wish-granting factory." forget about the fact that they're from some cheesy young adult novel. and then get back up.

this has been the best and worst summer of my life. 

mostly the best, i think, because i went on some amazing, once-in-a-lifetime adventures and met people that i will remember forever. i mean, like, i guess i fell in love this summer too, in case you actually read my blog. i connected with old friends and really learned to appreciate the people in my life that will welcome me back with open arms despite having seen me at my worst. people make mistakes. i make a lot of 'em. this summer taught me how to apologize, taught me humility. arrogance was always a shield for me, until i realized that others didn't really see so easily through that facade. if you ever make the mistake of perceiving me as someone who's got their shit together, please do not ever think so highly of me. in a way, i lost a lot this summer. but i needed that push from the top. i deserved it.

i thought i knew what i wanted, but i didn't. i thought i knew what i was good at, but i don't. i thought i knew who i was, but i have no idea. i'm a completely different person. i really feel like that sometimes. i look at old pictures and i don't recognize myself. i don't like who i was.

i just wanna write, to be honest. that's all i wanna do for the rest of my life. if i could do that, i would be happy. i wanna be rich and famous and that shit, too, but that's just a bonus. i just wanna write and take pictures; i wanna show and tell people beautiful things. i'd love that. but everything feels impossible.

tyler, the creator created odd future at seventeen. shit, earl sweatshirt is only two years older than me. didn't some eleven year old kid have a higher iq than einstein? people release billion dollar apps before they're old enough to drink. people drop some of the best mixtapes of the decade the year they graduate high school. i'm still writing blog posts in lowercase letters tweeting donald glover hoping he'll let me write about his tours like some kind of modernized version of almost famous.

but hey, you know. "life is not a wish-granting factory." college is cool, too, i guess, and like stable jobs with degrees and certificates and white picket fences. i'm cool with that, too. dreams only do so much. at some point you gotta wake up.


Thursday, August 14, 2014

9 to 5

I wrote this when I was about fourteen or fifteen, summer after freshman year of high school. I put some finishing touches and made it look a little prettier. I was going through a really heavy Donnie Darko/Fight Club phase and had also just discovered Pretty in Pink and John Hughes movies. I was very easily influenced by cult classic movies. Still kinda am. It makes me laugh because lately I've been feeling like such a different person and this reminds me that I've still got a little bit of that depressing, irrationally angry, fifteen year old existentialist preaching anarchy in the back of my head. We never really change, our skin just swallows the skeletons and keeps growing.