Films are made up of many elements. Literary, theatrical, painterly, and musical. But there is something in film that is purely cinematic. When I make films or go to see the films of others, I go in hopes of experiencing this. I’m at a loss to express the quality in words. I hope one day to make a film in which every moment has that power. Until I do I am still only a student.

—Akira Kurosawa

I think my problem is that I’m obsessed with endings. I keep wanting to know how shit will turn out, and thus am always looking for ways to cap off the evening rather than bowing out when it’s time to go. “Productive” is not the easiest word in the world to define. I’m trying not to get too wrapped up in the idea that I have to have done something meaningful in order for the day to have meaning. It’s kind of poisonous, and makes it difficult to enjoy the part that you’re on. Besides, I’m still getting started. A lot of things have gone up and down over the past few years. I would like to find a way to at least make those changes less sudden and more manageable. The rest, I’m afraid, is out of my hands. Or maybe I’m just trying to explain why I love desserts so much.


Bill Watterson once said, “It’s surprising how hard we’ll work when the work is done just for ourselves.” I often feel like I need to rediscover my sciencey side. When I was a child, I would have described myself as more of a math and science than humanities person. Somewhere along the line, that flipped, and I’m still not sure why. Maybe I am better at reading people than equations. But even that takes time. I did well in all of my subjects in school, but of all the science courses I took, I did best in physics. Maybe that’s because it’s more intuitive than, say, biology. Physics seems to lend itself to just saying “Figure it out”, and however you get your answer, well, that’s how you got your answer. It’s also the sort of thing where you might spend an hour working on one problem, then check your answer, find out you did it wrong, throw your textbook across the room, kill a puppy, and set out figuring out what you did wrong. Maybe I’m mischaracterizing chemistry and biology, but they just never seemed to work that way for me. I might have made a good physicist or astronomer. It’s a bit late to go into one of those fields. They might be worth studying as a side project or something.

I don’t handle awkwardness very well, and I’m starting to think I have confidence issues. I can barely make it through this video, and it’s basically just a cute demonstration of how people react when a total stranger asks for their phone number.

I think what’s bugging me these days is that so much of what I’m doing right now is uncharted waters for me. I plan on having enough money and enough of a career that I can eventually become completely financially independent from my parents. I’ve never experienced that before. They have literally been with me since I was born, so what the fuck am I supposed to do without them? I can only imagine what I’ll be capable of when my relationship with them exists squarely on my own terms. Some nights, I’ll be baking cookies and watching Doctor Who or something and I’ll think about how awesome it would be to share this with someone. I like desserts, I like cheesy old science fiction, and I like blowjobs. That might not be everybody’s cup of tea, but you cannot seriously expect me to believe that there is not a reasonably attractive twentysomething male out there who would like to go there with me (in that order, preferably). But maybe I just haven’t made the space for him yet. Some people think of themselves as private people just because they don’t like it when somebody touches their stuff. No, having personal space means fighting off a meltdown every time somebody stands too close to you. My personal bubble extends for about 100 miles in every direction. Maybe I can get that down to just five or ten?

Everything feels crammed together in my brain. I want everything, and I want it now. I’m trying to find ways to space things out, but sometimes, my mind just latches onto something, and it’s like having an itch inside my skull. It’s always something maddeningly specific. But talking about it does help a little. I just want to know why I fixate on stuff in this way. But some things have always come more easily to me than others. I guess this is my subconscious’ way of pointing me in the right direction.

I’ve spent the (almost) one year since I finished school trying to build a life for myself. This is different from anything I’ve done before. When I was in school, I was just trying to get through the damn thing. And I won’t say that while I was in school, I wasn’t living in the “real word”, because as far as I’m concerned, everything is the real world, but the fact remains that I am, for the first time ever, basically making it all up as I go. There is no end point here (unless you count death, which is a bit morbid and anyway, I plan on living forever). So what I’m working with here is…dirt. I have to find the fine line between just taking what I’m given and giving something back.



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