Yeah yeah I know it’s not winter yet over here in the NH, but I painfully need winter to start already so it can end.
Today we presented our “Conceptual art projects”, and by “we” I mean me and six other classmates. The premise of the project ( don’t know why he calls it a project and not just another assignment considering that the majority of our previous assignments have had a project-level difficulty attached to em) was to create your own conceptual art piece, that’s vague I know, but the limitations were actually endless to what we could have created, Some girl brought a pie, that’s practically paying for a grade if she passes, wow. Anyway once my professor informed us that the project doesn’t have to be a drawn work of art, and can pretty much be born through any medium your little heart so pleases as long as it’s “conceptual”, I instantly knew this would be an easy pass for me (considerably my only actual time being more than confident towards an assignment this semester) He provided us with a few example mediums we could use to execute our pieces, including A live performance, powerpoint, a constructed work of art, a video, etc. All of those sound fun and stress-inducing in their own way but he had me at “video.”
And so here we are, one presentation later, as of right now I do not know my grade on said project considering today was only presentation, but I got a round of applause and he said he liked it, so KUDOS! to the six other classmates and I for actually carrying through with the project. Anywho for my conceptual art piece I constructed a minute or so long video, I titled “Music’s Nfluence” (It’s my project I’ll spell it how I want to, ok)the video consists of a handful of clips, each with a corresponding song to show how music Influences moments, enjoy my nonconceptual Conceptual art project.
Last night after debating on whether I want to post an exquisite piece or not and inevitably leaning towards the “not” end of the stick, I come to a realization that I still have yet to contribute to the on-going phenomena in article writing that are List post. As an unaffiliated blogger, it is my duty, no, my honor to devote at least one noble post to the list category.
Of course, once I finally envisioned what I wanted to post, it was well past what I considered blogging hours, so now here we are executing yesterday’s task. As effortless and “lazy” list post are all chopped up to be, it actually took me a decent amount of reflection to conjure up a list-post that dings my interest accordingly, so I constructed two, well in a way. I plan to construct two is what that line should read, I am proficient at giving out empty promises after all. With the first being this post here and the second going up probably a blog or two later, Idk, I feel indifferent about dumping out two consecutive list-post, but we’ll see. The lower end of the list post spectrum seem to carry 5-10 items per post, I’ll just be doing however many I see fit.
I miss the amount of optimism my kid self-embodied, not a worry in the world that anything would go wrong. Undoubtedly gaining such a frequency of better outlook was due to my mother. She’s that type of person that sees hope where there doesn’t seem to be any, even when everything seems far out of reach she never budges, the most impossible task is possible, it just takes time, is how she lived her life and still does. Me being her offspring, optimism was a given fundamental part of my personality. I never saw the wickedness in anything or anyone, Blinded by my own brightness I was. The person I am today hasn’t lost all signs of hopefulness I’d say, its just that, getting past my first two decades in this So-called life hasn’t been smooth by any means, (as I’m sure most of us can agree with, unless you’re Leonardo) growing up and coming to a true understanding of the world and where you fit in it has annihilated any remanence of false hope within me. Yes, I’ve lost that “there’s always a bright side” side of me a while back by choice, that’s certain, “if ya miss it so much then just become an optimistic again”, you must be raging. I didn’t drop my optimistic outlook for a pessimistic perspective mind you, if that were the case I’d be dead. Having the mindset that everything and everyone is genuine and benevolent didn’t sit well with me after going homeless for the third or so time. Still having hope for better (what else is a kid with nothing gonna have) I cut all ties I had with this belief that goodness predominates over evil. My joyful expectations were slowly being devoured by the trueness that is life. Of course, things get better, I just stopped assuming they will.
Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door
A favorite game of mine by far, probably would beat my #1 spot if Bioshock wasn’t a thing. Another Mario game, Yes, but what got me so attached to it wasn’t just the time frame from which I first played it but also has to do with the genre in which the game is placed in. Thousand was the first and only RPG style Mario game I’ve ever played, weird too because upon receiving the disc, I was no fan whatsoever. The thing took me literal years to beat, ( I gave up very early on in the game many times considering my lack in interest & skill for the virtue) definitely a challenge in itself, the immense jolt of bliss that came with the completion of the game years later was timeless. The game was made up of a few zones if you will, the zone I remember most prominently was the one that went by the name “Twilight Zone” coincidentally. What brings the Tzone to mind all the time whilst pondering on thousand wasn’t my love for the chapter, in fact, quite the opposite. I myself was not fond of the Tzone at all, for many reasons, it was a huge step up in difficulty within the game, and with it being only the second zone (don’t quote me on that, may have been third) only put me off even more, inevitably that piece was the means of my trail and error throughout the years. The Twilight zone was also a pretty eerie stage, ergo the naming, packed with tension around every corner with no shortage of enemies nor puzzles, when I ultimately beat the Tzone I knew this was the run, the run where I pull through and end this cycle of Twilight & quit. And so I did. Achieving conclusion for thousand after years of failure filled me with fulfillment, oh what I would give to sit down and play through that excellent venture of a game for hours upon hours in this day and age. Considering that I was quite young upon the first completion of thousand, I know for a fact a current playthrough of the game will leave me nothing short of full immersion, ill cut down those years it took to days, acting as if I haven’t thrown days worth of play-time into Battlefield and For Honor, I’ll gladly replace that spot with thousand.
I’ve lectured a great deal about the topic of chronology on this blog, in fact, I’m positive that if I took just a few more seconds out of my day to categorize my post then “Time” would probably be the only category I need, other than LSD of course. I guess you can say this inclusion to the list-post is somewhat of a copout, in a sense that I can’t really miss something I have. What I truly miss was the amount of time I had, but “more free time” makes me sound busy and doesn’t run well for a subcategory title now does it. With my only task as a kid/young adult being “get good grades” and stay out of trouble I had the rest of the 24-hour day to my self, no homework that lasted for hours, (presumably because I never did it) no mid/late shift I desperately dread till the time actually arises, just me, time and how I chose to use it. My desire to have that amount of freedom throughout my days now has only grown with my discovering of daily Task & Routines that must get done in order to maintain equilibrium in one’s survival. Plenty can get done in a day, especially if one uses all 24 hours effectively there should be no struggle for accomplishing multiple tasks with great importance, depending on how relevant and time consuming these task may be, however, the 24-hour clock may be just enough time to complete these given assignments, leaving few leftover moments to yourself. The number of times I’ve yearned for one more match, or a few more lines, I can’t end this post like that, but had to hit brakes due to work, the need to clean, school, responsibility, etc, has far exceeded my liking, I just want to take a drive from city to city rocking out to my favorite anthems without a care in the world of when, no rush.
Don’t fret, I’m not some sadistic teen in their 20s stuck in past-times, these are just true feelings I bear that I don’t see myself returning to any time soon. The second version of this List I talked about will delve into the things I currently have that I longed for way back when. Should be interesting.
I chat with my friends a lot about time and how It’s progressing at such a rate to where it feels sped up during certain intervals. What drives me the most about these particular converses is the fact that high school always gets referred to whilst speaking of the agility of time.
“It feels like just yesterday we were in high school”
To which I regularly agree with. Its kinda funny witnessing all of your peers transform right before your eyes, seeing them develop gradually but indefinitely, and you yourself not nearly having enough time to grasp reality and remember that the people you once knew & grew up with all have different beliefs, standards, and hair colors now just like yourself, altogether it seems like there hasn’t really been much time to take that all in.
For most of my life, I’ve resided in the same oasis of a city, only shifting residency a handful of times, but inevitably returning. The gang and I joke a lot about *City’s name* being deemed as the “inescapable city”, or “the city that pulls you back in” for reason being most individuals we know of (including myself) that have attempted the almighty break away heist from *City’s name* have coincidentally ended up back in sweet home Alabama. You can leave, easy money, just pack ya stuff and hit the 405, we all know its that easy, I’m sure, except its not that easy, to most folks who have been residing here for the majority of their so-far life, they aren’t just leaving the city grounds, known ones, and familiarity, they’re leaving a fragment of themselves that will remain nothing but a memory if not returned to. Not saying that’s the reason why they all boomeranged back here, just expressing some backdrop thought(s) one had whilst away those few times.
This isn’t a post about homesickness, I digress.
That transformation looks nice on you, you’ve gotten wiser, become less naive, the way you hold yourself has even changed. All while somehow keeping me in midst of a trance, I didn’t notice a thing living in the now, keep it up.
I lived in the infamous cash-grab of a city dubbed Vegas at one point in my life, very recently actually, (don’t know why my text makes me sound older than I actually am) my stay in Sinner city wasn’t prolonged much, however, after a year and a half I ended up where I reside now, yup you guessed it. Upon arrival back home to the origin city (honestly its more like a really big town if that makes sense) I was greeted with the same several friends I presumably left behind, give or take a few heads given that life goes on, some disappear, some have kids, and some just pop up way later throughout the quest. The brink of two years isn’t long at all, especially with the number of decades upon decades worth of years some have going for them. Explains why we would talk fluently like I never left for some odd number of years, catching up on what time has stolen from us. With that said, even though friendship is tenacious and triumphant time is still a static element at play here, as diluting as it sounds, time flies.
I’m only now coming to the coherence of the drifts in morals, styles, and our circle as a whole, yea change is nice and always welcomed in my case, but at the same time its kinda scary, not like 10/10 horror film scary but more of a top tier mystical thriller anime (like death note) type of fear. That one dude you knew back in the early days of grade school is now a full time “low-key” drug dealer, the kid that sat at the table across from yours is addicted to the drugs x kid above is slangin. Not everyone ends up all peaches & dandelions just because you associate(ed) yourself with em, if only. If that were the case there would be no need for major change, stay stagnant you’ll win anyway.
The art of transforming as a person (everyone’s calling anything Art nowadays, so be it) can lead to an enormous amount of separate paths, like fashion goes, not everyone looks good in any outfit, sucks that the rest of em cant rock a transformation like you, you make change look easy.
Seriously though death note is an amazing saga.
I have yet to encounter a passage online of someone describing they’re everyday life with HPPD & how they feel about the disorder. Honestly, there may be a few reddit forms out there that I haven’t seen but surely not flowing with the amount of Depth that I seek. So I Rushi III (I’m not the third, just wanna sound cool) will endeavor that mission.
“HPPD will be a persistent part of my life until I die and I don’t really care, I’m uncomfortably comfortable with it.”
-Anonymous youtube comment
I couldn’t have said it better myself Anonymous. Now before I lose all readers up to now, HPPD or Hallucinogen persisting perception disorder is a disorder characterized by a continual presence of sensory disturbances, that’s quoted directly from the wiki, of course the full definition is an entire block of text, although I’m not omitting the excess words for neglectful purposes, the rest just doesn’t apply to me.
Symptoms include halos or auras surrounding objects, trails following objects in motion, difficulty distinguishing between colors, shifts in the hue of a given item, etc, none of these which I could say I have experienced myself, besides the bold.
Now away with the intro and into the main. I didn’t consider myself a subject of HPPD till I took the time to read the loose definition associated with it. I thought the one and only symptom of the disorder were the infamous flashbacks every psyche user seems to talk about. So me never even coming close to witnessing a “psychedelic flashback”, whatever that is, kinda sorta thought HPPD was just made up by the masses of LSD users who think they’re still tripping, but in reality each individual who claims HPPD upon their self can be subject to multiple symptoms, the above list only being half of them.
Recollecting my memory, I’d say my case of Infinite Tracers came into existence after about my 16th Acid trip. (a weird number to take a gander on I know, but It really has been a while) The cause of this HPPD still isn’t definitively know but said to revolve around multiple drugs, with the main focus being Hallucinogenics of course, although the wiki page asserts that some users claim they have the disorder and have never indulged in any drug usage of the sort, whether that’s true or not is above me, but that just helps me justify that the Oh so mirthful, world-defining drug labeled LSD isn’t the only cause for my vision disarray. “Only” is a stable in that phrase, I know undoubtedly my love for Lucy was a big part (probably the only) in my gaining of trails, but MDMA, Mushrooms, and MDA definitely aided the cause.
I was partaking in tab usage a few times a week, molly whenever my acid guy was dry, and shrooms when I wanted something “different” (Shrooms aren’t fun, change my mind) Practically not giving my brain even a whole weeks break from the power (is that the right word?) of psychedelics for about three months successively. Then one day after slipping gracefully into slumber after a harsh LSD trip I woke up hours later only to realize one of the onsets of LSD had manifested its self into my cognitive world. That onset being the involvement of trails or tracers.
I suggest viewing the above link if not familiar with the experience of tracers, they explain/demonstrate it pretty accurately. I have encountered all four levels of this phenomenon, although level 4, all-encompassing as they call it, I have only been exposed to once. These Infinite tracers I speak of revolve around level one and two. Level one is experienced on a daily basis, day and night with the only exception being my ignorance of them. Two, on the other hand, involves the ingestion of everyone’s favorite plant, yup you guessed it, Marijuana! For some reason, it up’s the intensity of the trails perceived. In truth even though trails are much more evident after smoking a bowl or three, lvl one to lvl two isn’t that big of a jump, but then again anything lvl 1 and beyond is intense in it’s self. Ive gotten so used to the normal (HA “normal”) tracers in my day to day life that I question whether or not I’ve at some point didn’t see the point second after images of medium to fast-paced moving objects.
There’s no way the infinite tracers are fleeing my life anytime soon, and I’m uncomfortably comfortable with that. I’m not gonna lie though whenever I smoke a jay I still don’t anticipate the trails intensifying even though by now I should be well used to their presence, there’s just something about bringing a cup casually to and from my face and seeing a fat tracer follow behind it as if this were some video game with the motion blur settings turned halfway up, that makes chuckle. Whilst sober on the other hand though, they are much less distinct, hence me deeming them as normal tracers. Truly I won’t notice them at all unless I try to. That’s not do to the fact that they’re that minimal because as I said and I’m sure you’re thinking, going from seeing an object of motion leave nothing behind its trace to suddenly seeing that same object leave a transparent but evident trail behind it is not something one would describe as “minimal”, even if they are vague. The reason why I don’t often notice them during sobriety is all thanks to time.
clearly I must be the only one who deals with Morning jetlag, yes another term coined by me, but at the same time has almost nothing to do with actual jet lag.
Before I was able to take charge of what times I wanted to revolve my daily task around (i.e childhood) I didn’t know “night owls” were a thing. Although inevitable me being me, I was a night owl begging to be released from the bars of confinement, confinement being a bedtime of course. Without ever experiencing the day being flipped ( staying up all night, passing out once sun arises) I never got a grasp of the various different ways one can go about his or her day. Sure I could sometimes get away with staying up an hour or two past 9:15, (even that was cuttin it) but indefinitely that is nowhere close to being the same as seeing the same time on the clock that you woke up to almost 24-hours ago.
I thank my mother for allowing (more like forcing) me the ordeal of a Schedule– a very important life tool, especially as you mature, mentally and physically- I’d deliver more supporting details on why a schedule is essential to everyday life but I myself am just now returning to the likes of it, a little bit more experience and I’ll be prepped to write a 六 page essay. With that said and hardships out of the way, Waking up at the crack of dawn is cool n all, but apparently, everyone works different (crazy am I right) not only do these differences in working conditions affect the actual quality of the work being produced by an individual but it also takes a lot out of a person to change courses abruptly.
That Morning jetlag I spoke of earlier certainly is no myth to the public, I’d just have to put it in traditional terms for a greater understanding, “clearly I must be the only one who deals with morning exhaustion,” that better, pretty sure now with the loss of my unexplained expression you can grasp my dilemma. Whether you’re an owl after hours or a graceful bird able to rise at any hour of the day, you’ve without a doubt experienced some form of morning jetlag (sure I could use a known term, but what would that make me) at least once. Waking up only wanting to peace out again after attaining well over seven or eight blissful hours of slumber wrecks me, ok maybe that’s too crucial of a word but It definitively doesn’t do me any good. “Just stop being lazy, get up and get your day started” is what some of those are saying, I’m sure, but me writing this unsuspected blog post is my retort to that.
I arose from my coma purely to just shield my eyes from the glistening rays of the sun wedging through my useless blinds. (I really need some curtains) I know my body, I know when I’m at full stam (stamina, gaming term) and when I’m depleted, “come on you have too much work that needs to be done today to be slouching around for anything more than a minute” I commanded my self, then the contradictory dispute comes to play, “If I do initially bring my self to escaping this bedframe of mine, then what? Yea I can get started on work right away as planned, comparatively to laying here for any longer, but I know myself”. The quality and results of my actions won’t be near the same. My body is at full stam but I’m not. (make sense of it) any other day I would have just returned back to dream, but I thought it’d be better to blog, as a comeback to my lag just being laziness.
Like I said before those new faces in life make all the difference.
I’ve asked a few people what are the most meaningful aspects of life in their book. “People,” being a few friends, some peers, and also a couple strangers. For reason being, I recently had to ask myself this very same question (In order to obtain some much-needed identity answers), but unlike any other “at that moment” question I’ve had tossed at me, this one stuck, stuck with me through the day, overnight, and current in the following morning, for some reason the question put me off, answering it instantly whilst still accurately was unachievable. Which is unusual for me, not in a bragging matter, (being able to answer questions about your own being shouldn’t be brag-able anyway) I just spent so much time with myself that I thought I knew it all, is all. Me lingering over this inquiry of a question for so long built interest in learning the answers from those all around me.
After I finally established my answer, I wanted to see what made theirs different from mine, and giving a resolution to this poll was a short way of finding out.
In many instances, in fact, in most instances, the answers were either the same or resembling that of my own. The feedback honestly didn’t range much with differ, even with there being no wrong answer whatsoever the masses still gravitated towards a shared ambition or ambitions. Why is that so, I don’t know, Morals? Took me hours to answer that first question, ya think I’m gonna solve two mysteries in one post, nah. Whatever the reasoning being we all choose to value the same precious objects in life is beyond me, (atm) but another thing that is still beyond me but for some reason, I find more intriguing are the answers that I got that weren’t in anyway close to that of the masses and I.
As I stated before obviously there cannot be a wrong answer to a question as such, this isn’t me attacking those who don’t share the same view as myself, (or maybe it is) so I won’t be outright stating the few corresponds I received that differed, that’s not what’s important here, what I’m shinning the spotlight on are our differences altogether, and how they make us who we are, blah I’m sounding aesthetic now, anyway sooner or later your determination for what you find deserving in this krooked world will show, and cause you to drift towards those with the same insights. The clique you associate yourself with are all just alternate perspectives reaching for the same end. Continue reading “Life’s a b***h, and then ya die.”
I can’t be the only one who finds it slightly breathtaking when you first hear your name called by an unfamiliar voice, unfamiliar in a sense that you’re coming across someone new for the first time and unexpectedly expected (see what I did there) your name gets thrown out through the thin air by a voice alien to your ears. If you ever expect to see x person again then In my head first name basis should be established almost instantly, bro & aye just don’t cut it for me. With that said, hearing your name said by a distinctly different voice should be foreseen, it always is, but still, after sum years it amazes me how struck I get every time I hear a new friend say my name.
Notice (or don’t) I use the word “friend” in the very end, Mainly to show that this “x person” isn’t someone you just so happen to encounter going about your day and never will endeavor to see again, I don’t mean when you just so happen to give your name out to someone sitting next to you on the subway because you guys had an intriguing conversation about onion chopping techniques till your stop arrived.
I guess what I’m trying to say is when you hear that name of yours muttered in midst of conversation(s) multiple times by someone who isn’t yet deemed by you as “Friend” (I use that word very distinctly) but soon will be, hence the transition between the phrase “x person” (unknown soul) to friend in the first passage, makes all the difference.
This night on
Oct 31 was unexpected, calm and collected, to say the least. Me being caught up in all my assignments I was looking for something to do that didn’t involve just me and my pc for once. Don’t get me wrong I love the self-company of Rushi more than anything, but lately its been just me and my math book for the most part, so with my ass being in full swing homework mode for the past two weeks or so, I thought it was time to see a friend or two, no not go out and dress up for Halloween, that’s the last thing I want to do every 31st, but to just chat, exchange dialects, or merely listen to one another. Sounds gay I know but I’ve come to realize essentially that’s all me and my friends really do on a regular chill basis, if its not a planned, or special event, then we’re just hanging in the chosen person’s car/backyard (of all places to gather these are the last two that come to mind, I know) conversing about each other’s most recent problems and life as is.
Seemed like everyone was already busy by the time evening rolled around though, my sister had already headed out to what seemed like a party I presume judging by the gargantuan bottle of Jameson on her story, the kid who usually uses any small circumstance as an excuse to hang out wasn’t available on a what seemed like a big circumstance type of day-Halloween-due to him being down south having family time, two of my familiars were busy slaving away at work till midnight minimum, sucks, and lets just say the rest of the mates only wanted to indulge in activities I had no interest in. Left right where I started, my computer chair, I sent out the text message that would soon bring about a compelling night.
One hour after the message is sent I find my self in the passenger seat of an unfamiliar Corrola, conversating with a personality I’ve only met twice before, once proper, both off some substance(s). By proper I mean actually fully conversing with em and not just a handshake and a name given, which is presumably how the first introduction went. Our mutual friend (Drew) acquainted us with each other, and that was the end of that, second go went a little deeper given that I got stuck in a 15-minute or so car ride with this new entity and Drew of course.
With me knowing almost nothing about this kid, and vice versa I surely expected this session of just us two and his longtime friend to be as awkward as possible,
this is basically two versus one, and I’m the one, there is no mutual friend I can hide behind when the conversation gets light and dull between me and x , there’s no retrospectively bringing back incidents we’ve had in the past to light again once the chat ran dry. There was no escape. Or so my wondering mind thought preemptively before getting in the car.
With twist & turns being an evident thing in life I’m pretty sure you can guess with no problem how the night with my new friends went, I don’t have to explain it, this post is past my limit already. Don’t worry though fellow blogger, there is indeed a point to all of this mushy friend relationship talk, I was never the best at telling stories, especially current ones at that. I’m more of the type that likes to let the events of life happen. Simmer. Then be reawoken years or something later, I just needed to tell this novel as a sorta interlude to my next post, possibly next few posts if things go as planned and I don’t fall off.
Its times like these where I wished I prepped up a writing topic over the weekend to then quickly establish and put down to paper, (well, the screen I guess) Ya know like a rough draft sorta ordeal, except without the actual “draft” just a good well thought out topic I can release my emotions and notions on.
I assume everyone has their own way of conjuring up their blog post, the ones that actually end up reaching the surface that is, (YA that’s right, I know you have at least five half-baked articles in that draft bin of yours) my “way” is usually me receiving a sudden jolt of enlightenment to write (which doesnt happen often, explaining my uninterrupted intermissions) quickly I drop what I’m doing, slap an extra tab open on the ole windows 10 (chill Mac boys) and within seconds im starring at the infamous blank page everyone seems to write about.
A lot of the time I do what I came to do, write an unethical blog post and publish it, but sometimes the white of the blank page eats away at my very essence, more and more until 20 brisk minutes fly by and I still haven’t painted the page black yet, very unnecessary way of saying sometimes the writing just doesn’t flow, I know, which I’m sure happens to a lot, writers block isn’t rare.
That’s not what I’m getting at though, I’m writing this to remind my self that I can’t just sit down and stew up a Decent topic at hand within seconds everytime, although that is how all my writings up to this point have come across, but I’m in a rush, (five hours till school, so yea the usual) I wanna write, but as I sat down to slap my feelings on an ignored topic down, I came up blank. Let this be a note to self Rushi, constructing at least one blog post idea a week (low standards, yada yada) is better than a random unthought out post every few months or so.
I wanna start writing more, which is weird because more than ever I think about my blog, whilst doing other things that used to make me overlook the fact that I was even In charge of such a page, guess its time to put more effort in, no promises though.