Moving on, Part Two

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

-Carl Gustav Jung

September 2nd, 2015

3:52pm
As the summer days unwind, and as my conforming occupation of prepping for the final lap of the year march reigns my presumptuous thoughts, I reflect as a mitigate stimuli to cope with the surfacing roles a person detaching from dependency would soon realize. Everywhere I can, I have a small notebook to respire my spirits with. And it does wonders.
After several occasions of training, a rising concern revolves around a drama of which I'd much rather not dip a toe in. This mini preoccupation is what would happen if my second life were to be out and about without my consensus. And already, I feel a coming tide behind the gates of the internet tempting its limits. And I've been somewhat careful not to express this outwardly. To some extent, only two people of my mainstream current are even remotely aware that I am a part of a subculture as exquisitely creative and odd as one with praised anthropomorphism in the form of other organisms of the animal kingdom. Two from my high school I recognized at the convention. And not a greeting shared. I've been pressed forwardly to continue this "experimental journey" for someone more than twice my age, and wow, how have I been oblivious to this controversial difference. Although I've hinted at the loosened knot, they were tightened back when a toy depicting my character's species was bought. Now it seems obligatory to withhold this bond, however appealing to dichotomy this may appear. Only six leftover sunny-side up plates until the memory books are commenced. I sit under the outlined tree pondering "what" with my future, and reflecting on the open whiteness beyond of which I know exists in memory, and in fortune's wreath. I'll be there, soon.

October 15th, 2015

2:19pm

Wait, I think I just did something that I know I should not have done! What would that be? Where is the sanity in this argument? Oh, no. I have lost my in on the randomness of topics! Now, with integration of a schedule, I have to abide by it. Even if life butts in at times, even if an hour of isolation unwillingly props the doors of being discovered wide open, I still should be completely aware of my independent actions! What does it mean to be alone or out of ideas? Where would that result? How am I sufficient to progressive achievement?

Questions of the sort are plentiful in my database, but I hardly ever access them as often as their cries call. It is not because they are to be neglected children, but it hardly is the moment to decide what to make of their entities. I am a wholesome soul who strives to maintain his habitable innards and keep the environment within a comfortable zone. With dogma of irrefutable questions, I open a wound that needs oxygen in order to mend. Without and about these improperly established sessions, they do not get the needed amount of breath or say in what goes on with my life.

All because of a tender spot unwilling to become a wish of opportunity.

What may become of myself, from this?

October 17th, 2015

11:50pm
Aye, and so the moments of spiraling truth reveals itself further. I am not going to be the same person I was yesterday. And yet it remains so, I won't allow the passive voice to be narrowed in its margin to underestimate its obstacles by how weak of a volume it has access to. Its energy is unstable, but it wills onward, despite its dusty panel of attendance. I won't try to be something that isn't a guru or a goal simply because of how difficult it is to maintain a stable pedestal in this conforming life! Argh, what does it mean to experiment with one's imagination, if one can only create great examples? Where is the opportunity of learning? Where does one expand from that lesson? These rants, they add from the garrison of them soon arriving upon status quo. Wreath from isolation and harvest, journey from the ill-consented vehement beyond the crazy constitution of the patterns that are out there. I will speak even if it is senseless. Because that is how I will learn not to repeat such a grass-stained stroll.

October 18th, 2015

"If you don't think you are worthy, then all of your accomplishments, achievements, friends, all of that is worthless."
"I just have to step three feet away, and I no longer have to squint at the mirror. I can be beautiful and I am."
"I wasn't as confident, and I wasn't as full of my self esteem as I once was."
"I built a persona on what I could and couldn't do."
"Why are you fighting so hard not to be yourself?"
"What was I going to do? I was just really scared. Was I happy, was I really the person I wanted to be?"
"I decided on that day, I was going to go across India and be an elephant hunter."
"I found out that being an outlier was a good thing. I knew my life would never be the same. Once I stepped off that elephant."

"Esteem comes and goes. And there are moments where we regain it, and lose it, and so forth."

"We go forward a few steps. Then we step back seventeen."
"To have self esteem, to be in a healthy relationship. that takes work."

"Kaanshi, an organization to change mindsets behind disability."

'What could possibly be left, by the people who are beyond the needs of human?"
"The final stage of the hierarchy of Maslow's need, is self-actualization. Not one of the three thousand students expressed the characteristics of self-actualization."

"Being proud of accomplishing the simple things. Then you take the next step. And once you practice enough, then you enter a state of mind, losing yourself in your work, a state of ecstacy.


-Esteem

"What I really feel on the inside. I feel a great monument of able ability that is ready to seize the day, no. That is not it even. I will find that way to fully indulge myself to the point where what I do is pouring out of my body and into the mind. I feel energetic. I feel enticing and powerful. It is exhilarating! Yet, I lie in my own melancholy by how much pressure I put into suppressing the sky under a realist light. Where is the love in that? Imagination is the most eccentric tool the human body has, and it is the most important asset there ever existed. Why let the air of curiosity belittle itself into a hollow box of supposed meaning? Where is the life in that? And so I screech on the wonders of how small we are, and how big this universe has yet to explain. Great and understanding I walk for, and opportunity of passion I strive for. There is meaning when one thinks of him or herself as worthy.

October 20th, 2015

10:20pm
Self actualization. The last tier to Maslow's human needs. Being all there can be, and then some. That is my goal, and I will meet it some way or another.
Trying out the daily writing habit is a dedicated discipline that I have not, unfortunately, accustomed myself to already by the beginning of the year. It was out of willpower and determination that I decided to start this a month and some later. And when I think about all of the components that relate to my current situated life, I begin to ponder of just how rich, divine, varied, and all the more suspenseful my life truly is. Trying out an idea out of the blue. Creating without a foundation by making the foundation out of scratch. Doing. All of that adds up gradually making the lifelong process enriching to anyone's taste buds.

As with writing. The daily writing journal I shall use. Just write, write, write.

October 29th, 2015

6:08pm

I don't know anymore, but I feel as though my thoughts have wandered past its prime and into a forgotten territory I once was an enthusiastic entrepreneur of. My motives have been better, and I have grown optimal towards the daily duties of managing my time well and am keeping my head up with the tide of opportunity rolling in. The more sharply pressing hacks of society's deadlines are leading this wave as of now. I'm getting there. I haven't made any progress, but I'm getting there.

I'm getting there....

10:13pm

Even I have succumbed to an infamous trail. Now, I am not one to be even remotely provoked by the status of singlehood, but now, as I browse the internet, I have realized just how much of another someone I am looking for. Look, I am bisexual. It's hard enough for me to even recognize this publicly, much less permanently for the world to see, but I feel it is time for a change to take place. I've hidden my alter ego for years now. I've only recognized it in the previous one, yet I feel I've been this person I've been hiding, this energy willing to evolve out of its eggshell, a bird who has been sitting in the nest long enough to know it is time to spread my colorful wings. Just gosh, it's not enough to post this online. I must let those I love be aware of this identity. I wonder where I had gone wrong in my teenhood, that led me to feeling such sentimentally crisscrossing strings? Was it this well kept secret? Was I suppressing an opportunity that could have matured, but was holding it back for it to wallow in its own underdeveloped progressive pomp? Was that why I felt half-full, or half-empty, in any casual day? But, in consideration, where do I go from here?

Aye, this blog has turned me into a tail of self-concerned frugality of my prolific social embodiment. A mask, if you will, of distortion to what really lies behind my trademark smile almost anyone I've walked by in the hallway either knows dearly or has witnessed.  All of these questions race in my head, and I cannot provide a straightforward answer at that.

Ha, straight.

Oh, my....

October 26, 2015

When I found out I was to go on Monday, today, I already knew it couldn't be done. It was a hanging edge I did not have enough running time to make such a leap as I raised my hand the previous Friday. With a slap to the face, I got started on my Preparation Outline for this informative speech I was to give that day. Today.
The day was hectic from the beginning. Although I squeezed in wherever an opportunity of cramming to fit, there simply was the quality of the lack of lateness that is prevalent no matter how hard I try to cover it up. No one can change a lifelong habit in a day. It's the gradual steps taken daily that do. Heart sunk, I scribbled what I could onto my notecards before I was called up.
Then a flashback hit.
Tenth grade. Lonesome, on the verge of my waking soul, deprived of social preparedness. The teacher had to send me to my counselor by my performance. Even the topic was something that hinted at the hidden side of my wonderful smile.
Was it a dark one? It might be. But hearing my own opinions won't assure this mystery.
I stood before the room as awkward as I had two years prior. Mrs. Sass, our CIS Communications teacher, has the routine implanted into our brains as I replayed her words. "Feet planted on the floor. Square hips. Take a deep breath in, and begiin!"

"In the eyes of business, the former method of marketing was that everybody was the same in statistics. Now, with newer methods, that is no longer so. Every consumer is treated individually. Their wants, desires, preferences, and longings are taken into account. Behavioral economics is the collision between Psychology and Economics, and what I will be going over are some strategies businesses use in marketing, from the powers of "Sweet Spots", to...loss aversion, to free, and ultimately comparison.
"Oftentimes businesses target "fat spots, or..." Drat! What was the term? "...interest groups are large parts of the population where an interest is shared. Think of shoes, for example. Would you rather have a pair that almost everyone has, or a pair that are unique to you? As stated by Eric Clemons (so far so good) a professor at the Wharton School from the University of Pennsylvania, in the Article "How Information Changes Consumer Behavior and How Consumer Behavior Determines Corporate Strategy" published in the Journal of Management Information Systems, it is not about appealing to the population as a whole, but rather being better for each of your customers."
Flip. Flip. Flip. Where was the card? They all are blank except for one citation at the bottom! I felt the anvil of social expectation hurting my prolific side, its weight reddened my face.
"Loss aversion. We all... Are.... We all... According to-"
My improvisation ceased.
"According to-"

"Come on, Dan! You can do it! According to..."

No. For once, I couldn't. I was overwhelmed from the heart up. I admit. My expression saddened. It was though I was looking at my mother and wanting her help. No words emitted, only a stare of utter shame and disappointment.
I sat down to let the next in line reawaken the fallen spirit.

By the end of the hour, it was hard not to hold back the dam of tears whose walls have dried four years ago.

8:04pm
I wanted it all to be over. To suddenly stop and see just how much I've let myself down, and those who looked up to me. That moment, a dangerous thought entered my mind. What if I could make that happen, and soon?
From the inside, the angel on my right shoulder was balling by the destruction of happiness. It couldn't wait. I would be a singed whisper, not the imagined leader of tomorrow I so aspire. Sad. I wasn't sure what else to think. Down, like the sun amidst a dying star, eight seconds from telling the Earth about its eruption. That's how long it took for light to travel from our blue planet to the emblem of our life, as I learned from Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.
All I wanted then was a beach to sit by in silence. Without the sound of waves, either. Just pure isolation.

October 27, 2015
8:01pm
As I already knew there would be a punishment for my debt of unpreparedness, I awaited the cry of morality. This was expected, and although I set myself up for failure by raising my too optimistic hand, I felt small, and wanted to hide somewhere and be free of time and stress. Sigh, but I know I am better than this, and must prepare to give the best darn speech I've given thus far.

November 1st, 2015

10:30pm
As the new season of cold begins to rummage my closets and open up the dust that lies above my warmers, I have a realization that I cannot forgo without acknowledging its presence somewhere.
As a child, I was a rebellious lad, full of sin but always undergoing some knack of adventurous mischief that would energize my vibe and be willing to go any circumstance of creativity there was to make. I was in my element, per say. In the sixth grade, I was in my element as well, but I have found another way of getting to that home of infinite energy. I became more in tune with my academic profile, I became a reader, a writer, and an active listener. Then came my high school years. This was the moment of truth. I am at the final steps of doing something that would actually have an effect on my future, that would make a lasting impact and forever bring forth my ever-aspired ego to be more and rise above the occasion.
With Freshman year, I was already one step ahead of my classmates.
Sophomore year, I discovered my true potential and conflicted with the definition of "me".
In Junior year, I began my unearthing of my inner self, allowing light to seep through my social mask.
Here I am. the big Senior Year. One last step towards reaching the final part of becoming who I am to be. And also, being a legal adult.

I have made lots of mistakes I wish I could take back. Some days, my ultimate disparate castle was lost in the fog of uncertainty, and I could not run away from all of the doubt I had encircling me, caused by me, or was helpless against. There were hypes and peaks as well. I had a life in the short two months I've been studying, and with the divergence of no math or science class, I enabled a new me to wean through a curious path of emerging from its cradle of security.

With the eloquence of being subject to mass failure and having at the one shameful effect of unethical procrastination, I do say, where do I draw the line in holding forward what could be done today?

I do not know where and when I may lead the way, and I may not know the best route. I must try, no matter my situation, and no matter if I am the best choice to rise to the occasion. Life's all about jumping at the moment without thinking of the consequences, or not even knowing what may be the effect. Risk, and the gamble of opportunity may chance to be within your favor.

I cannot be a trend of hesitation.

I cannot wait for what's obviously an opportunity.

I cannot miss another lifetime in my future.

But, where do I begin? How do I know, what will happen, where will I need preparedness, howcanIdothis,whatwillbetheeffects,whatifIamnotprepared,howdoIknowIcandothis,
butwhatifIdonotknowtheway,wherecanIgoforhelp,Iamscared,whatifIgoofup,whatifIamnotthebestpersonfortheocasion,
whatif,wait,I'mnotready,wheredoesthelinedrawitself,Idon'tknow,please,waitIDON"TKNOW!
WhatwouldhappenigIblowthisoff?Whatwouldbecomeofme?Iamstressed.WhatdoIdo?Ohno.

...

A new month that began a day late.

November 2nd, 2015

11:08pm

The day was rather usual. School, all of the mumbo-jumbo that I am obliged to smile and attend to daily, which I not only do not mind, but enjoy rather frivolously. The morning was a rampant of a slow waking and oxygenating of my body. The cup of tea of ritual served, sweater for the unusally warm weather, I was ready for another day.

After returning home, I checked my calendar and found out that I had something come up today. My phone buzzed with an event, "Book signing at the U of M bookstore", dismiss or snooze? Weird, I thought. Wasn't it tomorrow? To reassure this, I checked on the official site of the location.
Wow.
After sitting in the car for half an hour, I decided to take my chance, missing out on all of the time I could be productive, and go there.

Jenny Lawson was the person I had the opportunity of meeting. Her latest book had me curious as to what it will be about. From a humoristic author, it must be worthwhile.
She stood before us and greeted us with such an enthusiasm, I wondered if the swearing, raging, tail-on-tail ranting blogger behind her first book was the same person.
She seemed like a total sweetheart.

As I arrived late, there was a long line of people waiting for an autograph, and an even longer one with people who didn't reserve a ticket. Oh no, it would be hours before I return home. And it was.
So, I pulled out my trusty notebook I should always carry around, and begun writing.

By meeting someone weird, I realized that I don't have to give a ______ about what the other person thinks of me! I went overboard about caring of this abhorrent dilemma of which when looked upon in all, reality isn't so life mangling as I pitch it to be.

And then I trailed off.

I need to gain weight.

I might be here for an hour.

Where is all of [my] energy coming from?

I should have brought my homework. I need to read a chapter of my CIS Communications book, and with all this time on my hands, I could be finished. And then, whoosh, Jenny is right up. Yeah, and a desk too. One that straps onto your shoulders and wears like a pack.

But in all kidding aside, I must clarify my next point. Life is more than surviving. Monumentally more. It is about self-actualizing oneself and becoming a paragon of what defines you. Be more than what people want you to be. Don't even listen. It's your life, and only you can decide on which is the right course of action.
Because think about it. We are one organism with a limited time frame on living on this wonder-filled world. There is never enough time to discover all there is to this sometimes wonderful, sometimes detrimental, and all of the gray in between type of home. It simply is overwhelming to our tiny bodies. Our consciousness can only process so much. Its the things that we can attain devoted attention that makes our stay a purposeful one.

And... I've fallen off the boat from my original intentions of this blog for some time. I wanted it to be about a project, hey, I wasn't even sure what that project would result to be, but I started it anyway, and because of not believing in myself, because of straying from my motives, desires, and becoming a substance of mainstream popularity, I've mixed black in my colorful palette. It was a challenge to recognize who I was. I never knew what to define myself because I didn't seem to fit in the categories I came across. But you know what? I'll make a new one. One that does not look into a definitive "type" of person, but rather breathing them in whole, and taking that as a category of itself. I want to associate people with a hope that everyone has the ability to be a good person, that everyone can donate or give, no matter what they have to offer. It's all about living a wholesome life, completely defined by you. That's my goal. That'll be my new project! I'll give a bit of my happiness in as many shapes and forms as I can.

Even though, through small acts of kindness, I've already had this project begun.

“It's not how much we give but how much love we put into giving.” ― Mother Teresa