Since about 07:45, I have been working nonstop on only two things. My monoprint for Printmaking 1 and getting my canvas ready for Painting 1.
Today, however, was suppose to be more enjoyable than it turned out to be. Austin (that pink-haired mowhawk punk that smokes and is skinny as hell that recently has become my on-and-off crush) was suppose to come in to work-study today. Key word being "suppose."
Well, he didn't.
What few people I talked to while I worked were mostly over school work. How to stretch a canvas properly, what time the film crew will be out of the painting studio so I can use it, where the hell is the damn staples for the staple gun, etc.
I was hoping to talk to someone about pretty much anything. Honestly, however, I was hoping to at least get a moment alone with Austin to see if I can open up to a person again without being hurt or hated. I mean, really open up. Tell him things that I would never blog about. He seems cool enough to be the kind of guy that won't get freaked out about it, but at the same time I don't want to chase him off or freak him out in any way.
I guess I should take things slowly and just see if I can contact him when my next big crisis comes along. In any event, it feels good right now to get off my feet after being on them for about eight hours straight!
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Only the Crazy Understand
Have you ever come across someone who just didn't seem right in the head? Logic and the social norm seem to just disappear with this person. In many ways, they seem to be the kind of being you cannot simply get why they act the way they do. Even if they give you a reason that you could hold water in, there is still something about them that just doesn't feel "right." So you see them as quirky, strange, queer, or just plain weird.
But stop a moment and think. What is normal and what is weird? A broad question for sure; one that has been asked several times since the very first sighting of something strange or unusual. Well, allow me to present the following example as a way of narrowing down the field of thought some.
One day, while in the middle of my five hour break between classes, a fellow student came along and started conversation with me. We somehow got onto the subject of why I don't drive. Not wanting to supply a reason for the millionth time, I said in passing that I don't have a reason that my fellow student would accept compared to someone I know that has motorphobia, or a fear of cars. This made her curious. I then proceeded to tell the story of how he's been in too many major wrecks in such a short time as a passenger to where he's afraid of getting into a car. In a childlike manner, she asked how he gets to class. Instantly, I said that he travels by bus. The innocence of her curiosity carried over as she asked if he isn't worried about the bus being hit in an accident. From that point on, I couldn't supply a reason why he feels more comfortable using what little public transit our town has instead of driving. What I remember saying fell short, to where my fellow student pretty much nodded and took it for face value. He can't drive because he is afraid of getting into a wreck.
In reality, there is more to this than she can ever understand. There is probably more to this than even I could understand. For example, just recently, I found out that he doesn't mind getting into the cars of people he trusts when they are behind the wheel. He still has panic attacks if he is asked to get into a car with someone he doesn't know very well. Now this new bit of information may have some justice in the asking of the last question in the previous conversation I wrote about. If he is okay getting into a car, as a passenger, of someone he trusts, how can he possible get on a bus without having a panic attack?
My answer is just because he can. However, reason and logic interfere with most people, and my answer isn't acceptable. If he is afraid of getting into a crash in a car with a driver he doesn't know well, chances are he's afraid of getting into a crash while on a bus. Yet he isn't. A contradiction in terms that has no real merit as to why he just doesn't drive himself.
So why then is this seen as odd and not making sense to anyone but him and myself? Well, for starters, there is only one of him and only one of me. Each of us has have only certain experiences up until this point. No two people can have the same experience. It's a philosophical impossibility. That is why nobody will ever truly understand him. Not even myself, even though I'm very open to all walks of life short of hating people for no real good reason (ie. Racism).
You are not me. I am not you. You have not lived my life through my eyes. I have not experienced several wrecks in a row in a short period of time as a passenger to know the trauma and fear that would cause a person. Everything we know about anyone outside of ourselves is inferred, told from an outside party. And even when an experience is told by the source, it is nothing like actually experiencing it for yourself.
As far as how much each person is will into accept, or say that they understand, that's up to the individual. You can either take their word as golden, as brass, or as complete bull. But only the ones that are either open or crazy themselves are the ones to accept exception in the idea of what a phobia is instead of seeing a fear in absolutes.
But stop a moment and think. What is normal and what is weird? A broad question for sure; one that has been asked several times since the very first sighting of something strange or unusual. Well, allow me to present the following example as a way of narrowing down the field of thought some.
One day, while in the middle of my five hour break between classes, a fellow student came along and started conversation with me. We somehow got onto the subject of why I don't drive. Not wanting to supply a reason for the millionth time, I said in passing that I don't have a reason that my fellow student would accept compared to someone I know that has motorphobia, or a fear of cars. This made her curious. I then proceeded to tell the story of how he's been in too many major wrecks in such a short time as a passenger to where he's afraid of getting into a car. In a childlike manner, she asked how he gets to class. Instantly, I said that he travels by bus. The innocence of her curiosity carried over as she asked if he isn't worried about the bus being hit in an accident. From that point on, I couldn't supply a reason why he feels more comfortable using what little public transit our town has instead of driving. What I remember saying fell short, to where my fellow student pretty much nodded and took it for face value. He can't drive because he is afraid of getting into a wreck.
In reality, there is more to this than she can ever understand. There is probably more to this than even I could understand. For example, just recently, I found out that he doesn't mind getting into the cars of people he trusts when they are behind the wheel. He still has panic attacks if he is asked to get into a car with someone he doesn't know very well. Now this new bit of information may have some justice in the asking of the last question in the previous conversation I wrote about. If he is okay getting into a car, as a passenger, of someone he trusts, how can he possible get on a bus without having a panic attack?
My answer is just because he can. However, reason and logic interfere with most people, and my answer isn't acceptable. If he is afraid of getting into a crash in a car with a driver he doesn't know well, chances are he's afraid of getting into a crash while on a bus. Yet he isn't. A contradiction in terms that has no real merit as to why he just doesn't drive himself.
So why then is this seen as odd and not making sense to anyone but him and myself? Well, for starters, there is only one of him and only one of me. Each of us has have only certain experiences up until this point. No two people can have the same experience. It's a philosophical impossibility. That is why nobody will ever truly understand him. Not even myself, even though I'm very open to all walks of life short of hating people for no real good reason (ie. Racism).
You are not me. I am not you. You have not lived my life through my eyes. I have not experienced several wrecks in a row in a short period of time as a passenger to know the trauma and fear that would cause a person. Everything we know about anyone outside of ourselves is inferred, told from an outside party. And even when an experience is told by the source, it is nothing like actually experiencing it for yourself.
As far as how much each person is will into accept, or say that they understand, that's up to the individual. You can either take their word as golden, as brass, or as complete bull. But only the ones that are either open or crazy themselves are the ones to accept exception in the idea of what a phobia is instead of seeing a fear in absolutes.
Passing the Invite
I'm not sure if I shared this story with the blog or not, but just in case I didn't, I will not.
During the summer, I met one of my sister's co-workers. She found out I was studying Fine Arts and wanted me to teach her daughter, who was playing the part of hostess for the time being. Her daughter, who is in grade school, at one point started doodling on the paper that is used to protect the table from stains and such. Well, as I looked at her doodles, I was quite impressed by them. With some formal training, she could make those doodles look like Mike's paintings of fantastic flying machines from another time and place. I told her mom this, and she lit up like a candle at how well developed her child's art skills were. Naturally, like a true artist, her daughter didn't see anything special in her doodles.
Flash forward to yesterday. I got an invitation to a one-night gallery with driving directions and times. I saw that Mike was on the bill of artists. While working along side him on some images for Printmaking, I asked if any of his flying machine paintings were in the exhibit. He said that there were a few that looked like they were a part of the series.
It was about this time I called up my mom to find out for me if Brenda, my sister's co-worker I met, was working that night. Turns out she was, so I asked for a detour home.
Once there, we were greeted by every worker we knew there as if we were family that haven't visited in forever. In some sense of the phrase, we were. Hugs and welcomes were exchanged, as well as messages we would have to forward to my sister when we have the chance to give them to her. Then, I talked to Brenda about going to the show. She seemed excited and said she will try to get her daughter to go to it so she can see that her doodles can be made into art, thanks in part to Mike's work being on display.
If they go or not is rather up in the air right now, but I hope they get a chance to check out the show.
When we left, I felt really good for one reason or another. I couldn't place why, but felt similar to those times I give spare change to anyone that is broke simply because I feel that I am better off being the broke one rather than the other person. Hopefully, I did something good last night.
During the summer, I met one of my sister's co-workers. She found out I was studying Fine Arts and wanted me to teach her daughter, who was playing the part of hostess for the time being. Her daughter, who is in grade school, at one point started doodling on the paper that is used to protect the table from stains and such. Well, as I looked at her doodles, I was quite impressed by them. With some formal training, she could make those doodles look like Mike's paintings of fantastic flying machines from another time and place. I told her mom this, and she lit up like a candle at how well developed her child's art skills were. Naturally, like a true artist, her daughter didn't see anything special in her doodles.
Flash forward to yesterday. I got an invitation to a one-night gallery with driving directions and times. I saw that Mike was on the bill of artists. While working along side him on some images for Printmaking, I asked if any of his flying machine paintings were in the exhibit. He said that there were a few that looked like they were a part of the series.
It was about this time I called up my mom to find out for me if Brenda, my sister's co-worker I met, was working that night. Turns out she was, so I asked for a detour home.
Once there, we were greeted by every worker we knew there as if we were family that haven't visited in forever. In some sense of the phrase, we were. Hugs and welcomes were exchanged, as well as messages we would have to forward to my sister when we have the chance to give them to her. Then, I talked to Brenda about going to the show. She seemed excited and said she will try to get her daughter to go to it so she can see that her doodles can be made into art, thanks in part to Mike's work being on display.
If they go or not is rather up in the air right now, but I hope they get a chance to check out the show.
When we left, I felt really good for one reason or another. I couldn't place why, but felt similar to those times I give spare change to anyone that is broke simply because I feel that I am better off being the broke one rather than the other person. Hopefully, I did something good last night.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Stop or Go?
The people I have some kind of attraction to I should just stop interacting with altogether. I found myself acting like a dork when I was spoken to for the first time by two really cute Freshmen. It's like I can't talk around people that are attractive, similar to how I can seem to do important oral presentations without stumbling over myself like I did Monday night. ("Huh? What? Uhm, okay, I don't know why I wrote all these French words down, but...")
But, unfortunately for me, I can't avoid the pretty people. The only way is if during my five hours of waiting I lock myself in the studios never to be seen or heard from until I need to come out and do things. I don't have a problem with that, but five hours? Chances are really good that I'll finish my work long before those five hours are up, especially if the class is a work day.
Maybe I'm doing something I shouldn't be doing. Maybe I'm trying to deny myself something good, you know? I mean, I'm talking to really attractive people, while I myself am not all that attractive (no matter who says what about my picture). Sure, that means that I'm going to end up being the fat friend in the social circle of really hot people, but there are some people out there the like boys with some meat on their bones, right? At least I could hope.
Sidebar: I'm on the school's computer, and spell check doesn't work. I probably won't be able to edit this later, so I'm just going to publish this as is.
But, unfortunately for me, I can't avoid the pretty people. The only way is if during my five hours of waiting I lock myself in the studios never to be seen or heard from until I need to come out and do things. I don't have a problem with that, but five hours? Chances are really good that I'll finish my work long before those five hours are up, especially if the class is a work day.
Maybe I'm doing something I shouldn't be doing. Maybe I'm trying to deny myself something good, you know? I mean, I'm talking to really attractive people, while I myself am not all that attractive (no matter who says what about my picture). Sure, that means that I'm going to end up being the fat friend in the social circle of really hot people, but there are some people out there the like boys with some meat on their bones, right? At least I could hope.
Sidebar: I'm on the school's computer, and spell check doesn't work. I probably won't be able to edit this later, so I'm just going to publish this as is.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Notice
I've noticed something recently. I don't do my homework for World Civilization anymore. I've stop caring about the class. I just want the teacher to get a clue and realize that nobody likes his class. Nobody finds it interesting. Everyone wants to get out of it, yet some of us are going to end up taking it again in the Spring.
It's like that with most of my history classes. Unless you can make it interesting, I generally tune it out. That's why I respect and like Barbara so much when she teaches history. She knows what she is talking about and can put it into a conversation that I can actually be interested in one general sense or another. Not everything may click, but at least she is able to get my attention to where I can care about the class.
I've also noticed that I'm talking more and more to the Freshmen class during those five hours I'm doing work I care about. Ironically, it seems I keep talking to the younger ones that most people in the south would label freaks. Given how I dress, you wouldn't think that I would be that open. But hey, I am. I'm actually more curious and nosy by nature than open. I like talking to people that interest me, and it would appear that the people that interest me are usually the ones that stick out like a needle in your favorite sofa chair. (Come to think of it, I was like that in high school too.)
I hope this time around I make a good friend that will be there for me and seek me out if they feel something is wrong with me. Hopefully, I won't feel like I pissed them off because I'm so different to where society pretty much says I won't make it in a capitalistic society.
It's like that with most of my history classes. Unless you can make it interesting, I generally tune it out. That's why I respect and like Barbara so much when she teaches history. She knows what she is talking about and can put it into a conversation that I can actually be interested in one general sense or another. Not everything may click, but at least she is able to get my attention to where I can care about the class.
I've also noticed that I'm talking more and more to the Freshmen class during those five hours I'm doing work I care about. Ironically, it seems I keep talking to the younger ones that most people in the south would label freaks. Given how I dress, you wouldn't think that I would be that open. But hey, I am. I'm actually more curious and nosy by nature than open. I like talking to people that interest me, and it would appear that the people that interest me are usually the ones that stick out like a needle in your favorite sofa chair. (Come to think of it, I was like that in high school too.)
I hope this time around I make a good friend that will be there for me and seek me out if they feel something is wrong with me. Hopefully, I won't feel like I pissed them off because I'm so different to where society pretty much says I won't make it in a capitalistic society.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Saved as Draft, Published Much Later
The following is a collection of entries I've been secretly blogging. Yes, I have been blogging despite the whole "I'm done" crap I posted a month ago. Can you blame me? With nobody to open up to, I needed some kind of outlet before I blew my brains out.
In any event, curiosity as to what the general internet and blog-reading public thinks has gotten the better of me. That, and I'm tried of constantly hitting "Save as Draft."
So let's pick back up where we left off, shall we? Let the belittling of my bitching begin once more!
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Gotta Write!
08-22-2005
08-23-2005
08-24-2005
08-25-2005
08-26-2005
08-29-2005
08-30-2005
09-01-2005
09-02-2005
09-03-2005
09-05-2005
09-06-2005
09-08-2005
09-09-2005
09-11-2005
09-13-2005
09-15-2005
09-20-2005
09-21-2005
09-24-2005
In any event, curiosity as to what the general internet and blog-reading public thinks has gotten the better of me. That, and I'm tried of constantly hitting "Save as Draft."
So let's pick back up where we left off, shall we? Let the belittling of my bitching begin once more!
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Gotta Write!
08-22-2005
You would think that even after that last post I would know better than to drop something cold turkey like blogging. Especially given the fact that I have practically nobody to talk to. So, in any event, this little post will be my on-going little draft of things I would post but won't until I feel like I have said enough mindless shit to cover several volumes of books the size of, say, the The Culture of Mac book that I can see from the computer I'm using in the library. That should take about, what? Six weeks maybe? Who knows, seeing how I'm going to have very little time to myself now. At least time where I can think about something other than art, boys, and the overly-important-yet-completely-stupid-and-over-rated concept of fitting in.No Sleep For Mondays
So what drove me to do this? What compelling force could possibly make me not want to blog? It's the fact that I'm tired of people saying that my bitching is useless. People telling me I have no right to bitch because I haven't earned it. Last I checked, I didn't have to earn the right to say what I wanted to. In fact, last I was told, bitching in a public or even a private form is okay if not healthy for your emotions.
So why would I drop something that would be healthy for my emotions like another fat guy with a New Years Resolution to get back in shape? Well, I go to an art school, and that should mean that I should be able to channel all that into my art. Stereotypical, is all I can say. I like to create. I like to make things. I think it is fun. The reason I go to an art school is so I can learn how to create things better. Is it wrong to have something with little or no context in it? Yes, so they tell me. Legitimate art is suppose to make you think. Pretty art is something to make to sell. And craft is just something to make to put flowers or fruit in.
I'm being taught how to create legitimate art. I don't want to create legitimate art. I just want to create.
Now you see why I feel like I don't fit in, as well as the reason why I nearly stopped blogging. So let's see what everyone missed while I was typing but not publishing, shall we?
08-23-2005
So I didn't get home until around the time my sister did during the summer whenever she would have a night shift. I had very little time to check messages and other things, as well as even less time to get ready for today! Sleep was pretty swift to capture me in its grasp, but I think it shook me when I wanted to sleep in. I'm still rather tired.I knew this would happen.
Last night was my first night in my latest class in Art History. It was rather interesting. We did pretty much our normal routine. However, I noticed several odd things.
As required (and because Watkins doesn't pay for much of anything for the students), we were notified of the Family and Children Center crisis hot line. It has been mentioned before to me in literally every semester I've had in every other class in one fashion or another. However, what I found odd, is that when I was turning my attention back to the teacher, I couldn't help but noticed that Ken was giving, what I believe to be some kind of form if not the evil eye, a look as if to say "You! Use this! It's free, so use this!"
I know myself better than that, especially now that I've taken the time to read what I have wrote. Much like having too much money or having too much hospitality, I'd abuse the shit out of this service. Furthermore, they only pay for three sessions. They then direct you to a specialist that could help you, hopefully within your budget or insurance. If this blog went back far enough, you would know that I've been there. That I've done that. I was even put on Paxel. Oh, it worked in keeping me in check, but I was bored with everything! Nothing could interest me when I was on the damn pill, so I stopped as soon as I could and quit going to the quack of a doctor.
I've pretty much sworn off professional help ever since. After all, they only want your money. I seriously doubt a perfect stranger with the title of doctor in front of their name gives a rat's ass about someone with emotional or mental troubles for more than an hour unless they can afford it.
Another kind of oddity, if not a stab into that void where my heart should be, was hearing everyone's stories about something that happened to them recently that changed the way they think about things in general. I said that I've been actually reading and thinking about my writings. Everyone else has all these stores about how they met people or encountered people that made them see just how sad society is or how normal some homeless person on the street really is. Some even had trips out of the country and experienced a culture that changed their view. So, yeah, I felt like the hermit like I am for the first time. I mean, really felt it.
I should note something interesting that I've been thinking about since about 12:00 CDT yesterday. Something rather important that I hope gets across to the right person or people.
It's become more and more apparent that I may have been tricked. Someone may have may have taken advantage of my naive nature. I'm still naive, but I'm very cautious now. However, the more I look for pictures of various male models, the more I stumble upon boys that look like James, and more recently Aaron. These pictures are exactly the ones that Dan has sent me if not someone else.
I'm starting to think these guys are not real. Despite what I may have said in person, I've never actually met them. The only thing that could potentially debunk that they are not real is that I was in the room with them when Dan was on the phone. I was even in the same room when Kevin was on the phone with Bill! (Boy, was that a yell-fest.) But I have never seen an actual candid picture of them with Dan. I've never seen any kind of picture of them that I know is real beyond a shadow of a doubt now. I can't help but think that these guys are not real, and that I've been taken advantage of.
It doesn't matter at this point. The event's that transpired are at least three years old. And on top of that, in the very legal sense of the matter, I gave my consent.
It's no wonder why I tell users that are looking for boyfriends and girlfriends on all these free games sites I go to that what they are doing is dangerous. Sure, that's me going Republican and using only the extreme case scenarios. But looking back on how innocent and naive my writing was about "the boys," I know now that what I say when I tell those kids that has some merit. At least for me. Now if only they would listen to me.
Welcome to your evolution point, Jon. From this point on, you most likely will not be the same.
Yesterday, I got a phone call from the head of Student Life. She said she wanted to meet with me. I also got an e-mail from her. I thought that this was rather odd and wondered what it could be about. That same day, I also found my blog listed under the recently visited sites on the computer I was using to look up male models for a painting assignment. Well, needless to say, I had my assumptions about what was going on.Too Many Good Looking Boys!
Being in charge of Student Life pretty much implies that you are responsible for the general social environment and happenings of the school. That being said, my most recent writings obviously filtered into the real world. Similar to how they did last semester, only this time it had reached Death-Con 1. Or so I was told.
I assured the head of Student Life that there is nothing for her to worry about. It's just a cycle with me. I complain, I bitch, I make empty threats, and I may even slam a few doors I shouldn't. It's nothing. Should something really dangerous happen, and it has in the past, I'm always the first to let anyone know. Whether they believe me or not is another matter (one that my mother has already forgotten about).
What a way to start my lunch hour and wait, huh?
I just finished talking to one of several really hot boys in the school. It seems like today, most of the guys I'm attracted to are putting out their cuteness for the world to see. Even Coffey wore a thin white shirt that caught his chest muscles rather nicely whenever he would relax or if the wind hit him from the right angle.It's like I lost all of my motor skills!
It's times like these I wish I had more balls to actually do something like, say, convince people that I'm not a bad person after all? However, in reading my past writings up to where I am right now, I'm not boyfriend material. I'm, in fact and much to my own surprise, rather high maintains. At least in this point in my life, I need a lot of emotional support that I know nobody can give. Not that I would ask for it either, because that would just be unfair to ask for that much.
Not like that matters right now. I think I've figured out my place in the social scene of my time. I just have to accept the fact I'm going to be alone for a good chunk of it, especially when I need that hug to make things feel better again.
08-24-2005
Like the title says, I was completely not my usual self.If Only It Was Legal
First, I completely forgot my Painting folder. I had images to work off of while in the class for the warm-up assignment to get used to applying paint. Then while actually in the class, I couldn't see what I was doing. It's not that I went blind or anything (although I did have a headache as a result of something in the air), I just couldn't see the form as well as everyone else. My image of the back of a figure came out looking like an oil spill. A bit ironic when you think about it, given the fact I was using oil paint.
Then after my lunch, I was drawing only to discover that I can't pull a pose out of my head anymore. Well, more like confirm instead of discover. I was drawing with Mike, who was working on an image to sell to the guys in charge of Warcraft fantasy art. He told me a few tips to use in the future if I decided to paint and draw whatever I plan to create. I found it interesting that I could just project an image, use acrylic to get my value scale, and then go over that image with oils. I may use that method in the future, but for now it doesn't look like that will happen.
World Civilization was a pain in the ass. We had a quiz, and while I was writing, I felt my hand jam up. I think I'm developing carpal from all this typing. I'm really starting to hate the class. It's rather boring. But, hell, it's a requirement, and the teacher knows this. I think he also knows that a room full of artists and film makers couldn't give a rat's ass about what the definition of being civilized means to them. Hell, I even admitted in my quiz that I don't think too highly on the idea. After all, for a bunch of people who claim that we are the civilized ones, we are sure doing a lot of uncivilized things. I'll leave that to your own imagination.
I hope tomorrow is better. I'm starting to feel like college isn't for me. I guess I shouldn't have worked on those studies over the summer. I may be experiencing an early burn-out.
08-25-2005
Nothing really to report as far as classes go. I just pulled some overtime in Printmaking, which is probably what I'll be doing a lot of over the course of the semester. I mean, I have a 5 hour break between when my class ends and when my dad can pick me up (as well as a five hour break between Painting and World Civil).I could use the money, but...
I did get to talk to Wyatt for like the millionth time this week. He's fun, and a really interesting card. Apparently, he and I share a common frustration. The freshmen this semester are hot! We are both desperately hoping at least one of them is gay and is interested in either one of us. However, the likelihood that either one of us will get our wish is highly unlikely on my end. Wyatt is more appealing. I'm boring. That's like choosing between toast and garlic bread. They both may be the same, but one is always better than the other given certain situations.
All the luck to him, I say. He really wishes he could find out who in the freshmen class is gay via "the fun way," but that's sexual harassment. He knows better than that. Hell, even I know better than that!
Still, though, the idea does appeal to me. Too bad I've been down that road already and know where it ends.
08-26-2005
For a while now, I've been thinking that I should go through the sites I'm a member or regular visitor of and take advantage of the Webmaster option of linking them. Granted I don't get much traffic to begin with, and chances are really high that I won't get any money out of it. But what little money I would make I could use.I Have an Addiction
Thing is, each place that I've considered officially advertising instead of linking like I am as of this entry clearly states to host the banners on my own servers. I don't really have that kind of option. I would have to host it on ImageShack or PhotoBucket. I also would have to create a CCBill account to keep track of how much money (if any) I'm making.
Maybe later down the line I'll me more serious and actually do this. But for now, being affiliated with my favorite porn sites (albeit there is only two that offers something for webmasters) doesn't seem to be very profitable.
08-29-2005
In what will probably be a vain attempt to repeat what I did last spring (I want to say Lent, but I'm not sure), I've deleted any and every piece of pornographic material and link from this computer.DAMMIT!
However, I know that may all be useless. The links are way to easy to remember. And I'm not as busy as I could be to keep myself distracted long enough to forget about porn. Furthermore, if I got a job that pays regularly, I can bet you money and win that part of my paycheck will go to porn sites as well as my student loans and other expenses.
As such, I feel I have a problem. One that I really need to stop, but I honestly don't know how. Maybe a boyfriend would help me out, but somehow I doubt it. I'd probably have sex with him as often as I masturbate now.
Go figure that the day I give up porn is the same day I see a whole class of really hot, young, college guys that are lean and/or buff like hell jogging shirtless in the rain!Why I Don't Like Going to the Mall by Myself
Fate can be so cruel sometimes.
08-30-2005
So, thanks to Hurricane Katrina, I found myself questioning if I would have class this morning. Turns out we will. In time I've been at Watkins, we have yet to close due to the weather. Needless to say, Metro closed all public schools just in case one district had no power.Making Friends... I hope!
Mom offered to pick me up after my classes. I assumed that I was going to get to go home early, but that turned out to be wrong. She picked me up for lunch and brought me to Green Hills. Armed with nothing but my sketchbook and a really short pencil. I was left to entertain myself at the most expensive mall close to where my mom works.
So there I was. In the middle of an expensive mall, no money, and completely surrounded with so many beautiful high schoolers that had the day off because of some rain and wind. Thankfully, there were not that many guys to look at, but the entire mall is geared towards the upper class and mostly towards women. I found myself bored out of my mind, even when I tried to sketch a kid from the upstairs area looking down at the food court who was more bored than I was.
If my sister was around, this kind of thing wouldn't happen in any mall. I'd at least get entertained by her attempts at trying on outfits she will probably never buy.
09-01-2005
While pretty much finding a steady rhythm in Printmaking, I kept reviewing the course of my day the other day. I couldn't help but feel left out of the social circle that is hovering over Watkin's student body. Everyone knows someone and hangs out with them in one fashion or another. Dorms, in the yet-to-be-named cafe, or even if just in the class room. Myself? I'm rather a lone wolf and only associate with people that I feel I could be friends with. That being said, I have little time to talk to anyone but myself and a teacher. When I find someone I can talk to, I always fear that I'm talking too much.The Little Boy Came Out
Well, in any event, after I was done pulling my overtime for Printmaking, I found Wyatt in the cafe and decided to sit down with him for a while while I worked on a copper etching. Eventually, a really tall and cute guy came up to the cafe and ordered a sandwich. I mentioned to Wyatt that I was very distracted right now, thanks in part to me giving up my little addiction. He took a stab as to what I was trying to quit, and guessed right. He said that people give up pornography all the time, so it shouldn't be that big of an insecurity for me. It isn't so much an insecurity as it is frustrating, as I explained to him. It would seem that fate likes to bombard me with people I find sexually appealing at the worst possible times of day.
And the moment I explained that, the tall twink sat down right across from me with his dorm mate. Wyatt, being the social bat that he is, talked to them. I tried my best to work, but as usual, I got distracted. Eventually, Wyatt got their names out of them. The tall cute one is named Robert, and his friend's name is Jillian. After that, I was pretty much left with them, as Wyatt had to leave to do something important.
This presented a rather awkward moment for me. There I was with a really hot guy sitting right across from me as I was scratching away at an image in a copper plate to make it look darker. They are not in my department, and they are so young that they might as well be jail bait! Furthermore, I seriously doubt the cutie I find so distracting is even gay! I mean, what are the odds?
I talked to them as best I could while fighting the urge to just say to Robert how cute he is. It's not that difficult given how much practice I've had doing this, but even then I felt so strange. As time went on, they eventually left to go to back to their dorms. I was still working at the time they left. Copper, while soft compared to other metals, is a bitch to etch into.
I doubt anything will come out of this little social event. Nothing ever does these days. Still, what little light of hope it gives was nice.
I don't know. Maybe I'm waiting for someone to think that I'm worth chasing after instead of me trying to build up the balls to chase after them without coming off as a crazy yaoi slut of the college. At least that's what I think right now.
09-02-2005
I originally was going to spend the whole day painting, which is really odd for this time in the semester. I shouldn't be pulling Friday work days until around Mid-Term.Now my own dreams?!
I finished early and called my dad to pick me up on his way home. He brought my mom to have some oral surgery done. Something about a gum disease that they needed to go under the knife to get rid of.
The ride home was uncomfortable to say the least. My mom was in the back seat gargling and coughing every so often into a plastic bag filled with used cotton gauze. When she wasn't doing that, she was moaning in pain.
This was the first time in my entire life I saw my mother in actual pain. And it was really difficult for me to deal with. It still is.
The little boy inside me came out full force. I felt helpless and couldn't bring myself to do even the simplest of things like helping her up the stairs without feeling scared. It was an awkward feeling and a very unpleasant one.
Right now, I'm dreading having to go into her bedroom to help her with things like getting water or something soft she can eat like apple sauce. Like I said, I've never seen her or any of my parents in any kind of pain before. At least not something that would cause them to be in bed for a day or more. It's really freaking me out right now, and I don't know if I can handle seeing her again in this state.
I can't help but feel extremely weak right now. Any other person would have helped her out with no problems. Go figure that I had to be the only person in the world that can't handle seeing people in pain without having something short of an emotional break down.
09-03-2005
My subconscious seems to have been invaded by common sense last night, as my dream were more like a reminder as to what I should be doing to conform to society's standards.DAMN IT!
I dreamed I was driving. Rather poorly I might add. The odd thing was I was driving from the back seat until I passed a red light. Then I somehow got into the front seat. The car eventually broke down in front of a Dennys-like restaurant. Just my luck as well, because a tourist family went in who just happen to have a father that was a mechanic. And honest one at that. Unfortunately, I couldn't pay for his service, and I got a slight lecture about how I should have money on me at all times.
No doubt the last part was about getting a job.
In true dream fashion, I found myself at the edge of some really high steel structure with two ladders. One leading to the ground, and one short ladder leading to my doom. At this point, I woke up.
This is just great. I get pass my pornography withdrawals similar to how smokers cough for several weeks after quitting, and I get bombarded with reminders of why people think I suck. Given the $3/gallon gas prices, I have to ask if driving and having a job to afford to drive really that important.
And to think, the other day someone said I was doing a smart thing by not driving since it helps the environment and keeps money in my pocket.
Just when I thought I got a handle on my addiction, I spend the last hour looking up pornographic images to get off to out of boredom! OUT OF BOREDOM!Relationships
I'm so disappointed in myself that I wish I could kick myself is the nuts for this.
09-05-2005
Last night I was talking to someone I met on VMK and got to know pretty well off site. I told her about my addiction to porn, to which we went through pretty much what every other addiction website told me to check up on. Is my addiction affecting my daily life? Can I go on through a day without thinking about it? You know the drill.Cancelled Class Day
The subject ended when she said that most guys my age look at nothing but porn! It is mostly because we are men and we think with our second head. Hey, I agree with her. More and more guys are thinking with their dick than with their brains.
The thing is, my constant pornography viewing shouldn't be a big problem as long as it doesn't hinder my real life relationships with that someone special. I laughed at the idea. I have about as much chance of getting a boyfriend as I do of winning the lotto three times in a row. But, nevertheless, she assured me that day will happen when I will end up with a boy that loves me and all my idiosyncrasies.
Later on that night, I ran into a friend from Gaia. He was feeling rather down, so I asked him to tell me what's up. Turns out he's having problems dealing with the fact his ex-boyfriend is his ex. He finds himself doing little things by accident that remind him of their past relationship. It doesn't help that he is still in high school and sees him several times over the course of the day. Hell, they are even in band together! So, he asked me what to do about it.
I'm not the best person to go to for relationship advice, but I can't say that I don't know how he feels. I pretty much told him what Jamie once told me. It takes about the same amount of time you invested into the relationship emotionally to get over the whole thing. However, how long that will take all depends on the person's inner strength.
I recounted to him the fact that I'm in the middle of a long and difficult time as far as my emotions go thanks in part to "you know who." I told him that he probably has it easier than I do, seeing how he can talk to the guy. I can't.
Given my situation in comparison to his, I did my best to set him on the path I never went down nor can pick to go down again. The only thing I can hope for is that he takes my advice with him to a better place than I'm at.
This entry is making me depressed.
09-06-2005
Class was apparently cancelled this morning, but we were encouraged to work. The due date for our Printmaking assignments were coming up, so most of us tried to get at least one print done for the day. I just took my time with things.People, Money, or Video Games?
After class, I pretty much did several things that I couldn't do in class for one reason or another. Mainly because there were too many people and not enough space on the inking tables. I've noticed that my productivity seems to improve when I am alone in that room. Doesn't seem to do that when I'm alone in the painting room, however. I guess I found my alternate medium if pencils and photography gets boring.
I know one thing I'll be doing. One of the prints I've made will be scanned and then submitted to a website's art rating area. Mostly out of protest that all the highest rated things are photoshop images. Nearly nobody on that site appreciates hand-made art. It makes me wonder if eventually I'll be required to take a computer course outside of Digital Imaging.
I found myself trying to be social with people I don't normally talk to. In other words, I found myself talking to complete strangers while they were waiting for their classes. It was towards the end of it that I learned that Watkins still has several communication problems with their student body. A few people didn't know the "Name our Cafe" contest had ended and they were now voting for the best name. Another didn't realize that there were student auditions for student films last week. One student apparently didn't his classes until literally today, so he had to learn a whole different schedule. It seems fitting and very ironic that after all was said and done that the cafe owner who was breaking in a new Expresso machine would ask the staff member to send an e-mail saying that drinks from the expresso were on the house for the day for teachers only.
And even after all this, I still don't want to touch my World Civilization readings. Frankly, I just want to sleep all day again like I did over most of the weekend.
09-08-2005
Where should I begin? I think I'll just start with whatever comes to my mind and then go from there.The Art of Pleasing
When I first saw Patrick today, I first noticed how tight his pants where. How tight were they? Let's just say I could see his gage. If you don't know what that is, consider yourself lucky. May got a good laugh out of it when I told them off to the side.
I caught Leigh Anne in the hall when I was getting my copy of The City Paper. She asked me how I was, and I pretty much told her that I'm hungry but broke. It was just me being overly honest. Well, true to her generous nature, she treated me to lunch at the (still unnamed) cafe at the expense of her being late. This is the second time she's given me lunch. The first was in sculpture when I was pulling all that overtime without eating or taking a break for about three days. I felt really bad even though I got a free lunch. It was around this time that I made an important decision.
I'm selling my unopen copy of Katamari Damacy to the local game store close to where I live tomorrow. It still has the shrink wrap on it. If they think I stole it, I'm just going to tell them the story I tell everyone else. I got the game for Christmas, intended to get a PS2, didn't before my money went down the toilet for college supplies, and now I've given up on trying to keep up with video games. Probably all for the best. Mike gave up video games several years ago, and now he's making $4k during a single weekend at any fantasy convention he can sign up to be a part of! Meanwhile, I was talking to another film freshmen who still plays video games but has no clue as to how he's going to pay back his student loans. Myself? I'm going to use the money I get from Katamari Damacy to pay back Leigh Anne for both those free lunches she gave me.
I don't know if I'm growing more social or not. I feel like I am, but at the same time I feel like I'm that annoying gnat that buzzes by your ear when you sleep and won't go away. It's still too early to tell if anything good will come out of what I'm doing (talking to total strangers), but at least the guys that run the cafe know me now by name.
09-09-2005
I don't know if I forced them to go or if they really wanted to go to begin with, but today, my parents and I went to the reception of the Teacher Gallery over at Watkins. We stayed a grand total of 15 minutes.Escape into Dreams
Of the pieces that were on display, the only ones that got their interest going were most of the photos. Painting and sculptures were pretty much appreciated for their aesthetics rather than their content or creativity. Ironically, it was the student work that were scattered in the neighboring hallways that got the most attention from my parents. In particular, the metal works.
So, yeah, most of what my teachers did was not as interesting to them as the bronze shoes that a classmate of mine did last semester.
This made me feel a bit sad. Here they are in the very presence of the art that was produced by the people that are teaching me and only a few actually got there attention! This is the second time I've taken them to a gallery that the school was throwing. The first was the MetroSexual Tent Revival (where I got to hug Jason for the first and last time), and back then their reactions were pretty much the same. They were expecting something bigger only to see something that didn't live up to their expectations. My mom even commented about how she was hoping to see a metal works piece from Terry G. in the show instead of the colorful Tanukis that were up.
I think this will be the last time I meantime any of the art shows from the school to them. At least until my senior gallery.
By the way, I got a 100% payback on Katamari Damacy. Apparently, GameStop has a new policy where if a game is in mint condition (still shrink wrapped with the original security seal sticker still unbroken) you get a full sell back price equal to what the game is going for in on the open market. I got $21.84 for a game their computer said is going for $19.99!
09-11-2005
I find myself sleeping more and more when I can. I also find myself not wanting to wake up, not wanting to face the day. I want to stay asleep. I want to stay in that dream world I've created that is so enjoyable, so peaceful.And then I woke up late...
I don't want to live in reality. I want to live in dreams.
09-13-2005
That's what I get for wanting to live in dreams.Unclench Myself? WTF?
Yesterday, I paid Leigh Anne's tab that she paid for my lunch back for her. It was the least I could do seeing as how I had money to do it.
However, all was not fun and games. Yesterday, I got another load of work that, to be perfectly honest, I don't want to do. Naturally, I prioritize them based on how much I like the class or the teacher (which means Barbra's assignment will come first). I think that's always the best way to handle large work loads. Find out what is more important and then work on that.
I've decided that this will be published soon. I found my blog's URL typed in several times in the library computer over the past weeks. Someone is apparently checking up on me.
09-15-2005
Leigh Anne caught me paying her tab for my lunch. She politely said not to do that again, as she was being nice. I told her that I was just returning the favor. It was a nice little moment.I need a boyfriend
My weekly horoscope said that what I think I'm doing that is good for me is actually bad for me. That's pretty specific, but the only thing I applied it to was the whole attempt of not viewing pornography as heavily as I used to. Can't say I'm making any progress. The horoscope goes on to say that I should just stop and be more open, mostly because I'm missing out on a whole lot of experiences.
Easy for the newspaper pyschic to say. They never had to live what I had to go through. They just look at their cards or their stars and then suddenly the know me.
I've been getting more and more tired as the semester creeps its way to mid-term, and I don't know why. I'm really starting to not care, seeing how yesterday was the first time I felt like a stranger even to me while I studied. I really need to find someone I can talk to about this whole thing. I'm starting to feel like I'm losing my personal identity slowly the more I stop caring about the world in general.
Too bad most of the people in the school probably don't share the same view point as I do. You would think that a school where it is pretty much our job to tell the truth as we see it that there would be someone, even one person, that wasn't as optimistic as most of the people I've come acrossed.
Apparently, I'm that one person.
I was just asked by someone to leave another person alone because I'm apparently hitting on him subconsciously, and it's bothering him.Moments of Realizations Forgotten
This isn't the first time this has happened. Hell, I'm surprised that I haven't been slammed with a sexual harassment claim! I should be considering myself lucky that I dodged that bullet so far every time this came up.
Too bad I know I'm not worth the trouble of dating. Andrew and the others pretty much proved that.
09-20-2005
Ever have those moments where you realize something so profound that you just have to share it with the world only to forget about it shortly after you've discovered it?Thanks, Wyatt.
Yes, I was going to write something that would explain my world view. Something borderline religious, but I had a slip of the brain and lost it. The only thing I remember is that it had to do with what people think people should be doing.
Which reminds me. Last night in history, we learned about Existentialism. It pretty much means a concentration on the individual and self experience. What I didn't like about the idea was something about how if a change can make you better, then it is better for the society. In one sense, I can see it working. For example, if you quit smoking or drinking. In another, I can't see it making sense. Like if you work hard to make yourself successful. How is that single and minute achievement that made life better for yourself good for society? For every person that gets rich, there's someone out there getting poor. For every person that hooks up, there's someone else getting denied a date.
But, that's me arguing again with what has become the social norm.
I also had a realization late one night about how I feel about people. Once again, I forgot everything that had transpired between myself and my imagination. The only sure thing is that my feelings about people are no longer favorable. I can't trust people, let alone myself. The moment I open up, I just get hurt.
Which leads to the questions of why I want or need a boyfriend so badly if I don't like people and the like in line of that. The short answer is I'm lonely. Loneliness is practically the death of the social being. In a society where we have so much communication with people daily, to be ignored is equal to that of a hit and run. It's not murder, because a social murder would be acknowledging someone's words and then hating them for it. (The next equivalent would be to spread propaganda about them, which would be similar to pissing on their grave or slandering them at their own funeral wake.) The person may surive the hit and run, but unless something is done about it, something major, nothing really changes. The same is true in social settings. If you are ignored socially, nothing really happens. To you. To them. To the conversation. To pretty much anything unless you yell, stomp your feet, do something to get their attention. It's a slow and painful death, socially, to be ignored that has only one cure. Love and attention from someone genuine.
Which pretty much makes me hopeless in the very romantic sense of the word. No wonder people 35 and up are still replying to my dead profile and personal ads. I'm an easy target. A young, semi-attractive college student wanting love and attention is just oh-so-ripe for one-night stands.
But I digress. The more I venture into that territory, the more I'll start to show what I'm talking about. And in this day and age when you can put anyone behind bars if you have enough proof and money to do so, I'd just be risking my own future. Not like I had much to begin with.
I was talking to Austin, a (hopefully) new friend when I found out Wyatt told him about the day I "came out" to him in a rather... well, stupid way given the fact I'm in college. And then about how last semester I drew him nude for figure study before that whole new rule came up saying students could no longer model for any class.My First Sincere Compliment!
I think you can figure out why that story made me blush a bit when I heard it told back to me from a third person point of view, naturally with some distortion from the actual event.
Thankfully, Wyatt is a very cool guy that isn't offended easily or stays mad for long. I just thought it was a rather small world we live in when I find out the guy I'm talking to heard that from Wyatt. More people in general should be like Wyatt. As far as personality goes, that is.
09-21-2005
Oh. My. God!Corpse Bride Review
While painting just a random Happy Meal toy I brought for my second color study for Painting 1, I was surprised to hear from my teacher how excellent a job I did. This wasn't the usual half-hearted-but-meant-to-encourage kind of compliment. This one was one that he actually meant!
Then he took it back by saying that I could punch up the values more in the painting.
Still, this is the first time I've actually had that happen in this school! After this long, I get another rare event in college (the first one was when I made a piece so powerful it made the teacher cry for the first time in her teaching career)!
Finally! Some light at the end of the tunnel! I just hope it isn't a faint twinkle like the last one.
09-24-2005
Like the Neoplianesque character said, "This is gonna be good." And how!
Right off the bat, those familiar and fans of Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas will recognize the formula that made the film a hit. Create memorable characters and make the audience actually care about them. Then engage us in the story to where if we leave for a quick bathroom break, we'll feel bad about it. And Corpse Bride delivers just that.
Victor (Johnny Depp) is a lovable yet shy soul who, in every sense of the word, is the artist nobody wants to take the time to understand, let alone appreciate. In fact, the first person in the film that actually appreciates his curiosity is none other than Victoria (Emily Watson), who is a naive and hopeless romantic. The perfect pair played just as perfect. Probably one of the more unexpected cast members for me was hearing Christopher Lee as the voice of Pastor Galswells. But it works in a very strange way in setting up how the church system is in this dark town.
On the other side of the void are several characters from the world of the dead that are just as appealing. Naturally, the Corpse Bride herself (Helena Bonham Carter) is just as charming as ever, albeit her entrance did feel more like a horror movie scene. There is also a list of characters that have their own personalities, each taking a page out of the Haunted Mansion in their design, which hints to how they were killed. And they seem to be fans of puns.
When you compare the two groups together, the dead seem happier out of the two. Hell, they know how to throw a party that is, quite literally, the musical high point of the film. There is also a sense of community among the dead, which becomes very clear towards the end of the film. This makes the citizens of the dead more appealing than the strict class structure in the world of the living.
Speaking of music, Danny Elfman does it again! Taking what he did in Nightmare, the songs in the film flow in and out of the script as if people broke in song every moment. There are no real harsh song queues as the songs slide in. However, the songs are not the best part of the film. I found myself enchanted by the piano solos that were composed for the film. I really was disappointed when they ended, both times rather suddenly by some needed plot advancement. I can only hope the soundtrack features the complete piano pieces in their uninterrupted forms.
The story is laid out in a very easy-to-follow manner. Victor is to merry Victoria to save her family from bankruptcy, only to screw it up in every way possible. When practicing by himself how to properly say his wedding vows, he accidentally marries the Corpse Bride. From there, it's a matter of setting things right. And the ride is an enjoyable one.
Surprisingly, the blend of stop-motion animation and computer technology has made this film yet another piece of art to look and appreciate simply for its beauty and visual appeal. When the characters talk, it feels organic and less jerky than when stop-motion films were made over ten years ago. There are the occasional flips and skips here and there, but they are practically unnoticable if you don't know what to look for. It's almost as if this blend of old and new 3D animation could push the genre of animation even farther than most would imagine. I can only hope to see more of this style in the future.
I can't say enough good things about this film. Believe me, I can't. The only reason I'm stopping right now is so I don't spoil the movie and all its little quirks. Go see it and buy the DVD when it comes out.