This is about setting a routine. lul.
A lot has happened in the month’s worth of time that I haven’t been writing. There was a speech and debate tournament in Stanford University where I miraculously did not have a seizure. I took a few more walks. Went to a ramen place that I didn’t even know existed locally. Discovered more music to add to my ironic playlist of aural torture. Fire Emblem: Heroes has overtaken my life but luckily not my wallet. Yet.
But I think I’ve been forgetting more than I can remember. That’s why I really want to keep doing this.
Perhaps during this long period of silence I’ve been very worried that what I was putting out stuff that no one cared about. And even if people initially cared about it, I realized that I was repeating myself a lot. It is my staunch belief that no one really enjoys repetitive daily logs, and that anxiety about whether I need to get more creative about what happens during the day or more obscure with the angles by which I view my daily life from. I see all those daily vlogs on YouTube and just… how do they do it? Half the time you can’t even get me to talk for an entire day if I don’t need to. Hell, what I’m trying to do is peanuts compared to the work a daily vlogger has to put in; this is just typing on a keyboard about whatever comes to mind.
Ultimately, what do I want to do with these posts? Is it to foster more creativity? To discipline myself to get one done every day? To get people to read and comment eventually? How much do I have to go until I can be satisfied with what I’ve accomplished with this? I’ve never kept a successful journal before. I have empty journals in a cupboard that I’ve bought within the last few months because I thought it would motivate me to write in them. Turns out, nah, buying them isn’t enough to be motivated.
Having a blog doesn’t automatically make you motivated, either.
I went to my twice-a-year teeth cleaning appointment today, and let the office know about the seizure I had less than a half-year ago. I also spoke a lot more candidly, and honestly, about where I was in life. I used to lie outright about that. To everyone. Recently I’ve stopped caring about what people who mean little to my personal life think about me, which allows me to be a lot more open about my problems. It used to be that, whenever I wanted to say something or mention something, it was with the intention of having something done about it. Like, for example, if there was nothing to be done about a bad day at work, I’d go on never mentioning that I had a bad day at work. I figured it’s a waste of time, I assumed no one likes hearing bad stuff, and I thought it would make me feel worse if I had vocalized my stress.
I know now that this was a mistake.
It’s been a journey, really. Every time I meet with an acquaintance or a friend I haven’t met in a while, I face the same dilemma. I have the choice of either continuing the illusion of me being a graduate of UCSB and currently working in an accounting firm, or completely destroying their long-established perception of me by admitting that I was lying to them all along.
Hey there, long time no see. How’s your life been? Me? Oh, about that, remember all that stuff about being successful and graduating from college and all that stuff you would expect of an Asian kid you knew in high school that was super smart and the one guy you voted to be the most successful in your class? Well, that’s all false. I lied. Gotcha. I ain’t successful, nosiree. I’m in limbo between having no degree and desperately looking for a well-paying job. Yeah, I really got you good with that one, didn’t I?
Of course the conversation wouldn’t actually go that way. I’d be a lot less blunt about it.And perhaps still a bit coy about it, now that I’m really thinking this through. I’m still a bit shy of actually expressing who I am and what I do with my time. Sure, I watch anime, eSports, and play LoL to pass the time. Sure, I’m on the internet 24/7 all day long and check Twitter on impulse. I even tweet now and then (you should look at them, they’re good tweets).
But I never talk about how I’m teaching teenagers about the fundamentals of how to amicably discuss and argue topics with an opponent. I never talk about how much I know about U.S. relations with Cuba thanks to it being the debate topic of this tournament circuit. I never talk about the things that I’ve actually done in life, mostly during high school. Things like Boy Scouts, and hiking God knows where in the wilderness. Or my experience with classical music and my preferences concerning the different musical periods (fuck baroque). Hell, I could even talk about the slightly worrying amount of gigabytes on my external hard drive I’ve devoted exclusively to my specific brand of hentai. Hell, I could even talk about the large black box of physical hentai I’ve amassed over the past two years or so because I was horny enough to buy FAKKU’s first publication, as if to validate the decade or so that I’ve been pirating this stuff.
But who wants to know that kind of stuff? Seriously, who in their right mind actually wants to know these things about me? I’m not exactly ashamed to admit that I know a lot of stuff about the hentai I fap to, but… that means admitting that I actually masturbate to hentai.
But I just admitted it. Okay.
What do I do next? The specific tags I look for? My opinion on NTR and guro? The inconsolable mass of boy spunk that wants their content to be pure and vanilla and have a plot while still managing to be really fucking boring as shit? The downwards spiral of animated hell that the current hentai anime industry seems to be lurching towards? Who wants to know? Why would I be a good source for these opinions?
Likewise, talking about Boy Scouts, debate coaching, piano, and all those other stuff that isn’t my current lifestyle just feels off to me right now. Because I used to do all of that. Come six to seven years later, I’m not doing all of that anymore. At least, not right now. I try not to think about it. It hurts, yes, to think about them. When I do, I then think about how far I’ve gotten, or perhaps more likely how far I’ve not gotten, since then.
Let’s try it, I guess.
Fuck it, I’ll try something new tomorrow.