So, I haven’t really done one of these in forever. The above photo is one of the pictures I used as my desktop wallpaper. I realize it’s a desolate, snowy wasteland. But hey, it’s pretty, no? I’d never actually live in that, just saying. 

Holy crap I’m graduating. So many would be so stoked, yeah? I mean, I am too, but it’s a crazy scary thing. Most people have a plan for after. “I’m gonna join the workforce!” “I’m gonna continue studying!” “I’m gonna travel and see the world!” A lot of people I know already have these answers to a question that I’ve asked myself. And you know what? I don’t have a clear one. The SAT for grad school I haven’t even looked at. 

And you know what? The image up there seems to perfectly fit with this. Bleak, expanding for miles without a discernible end. And rocky. I kinda asked for it though, just flowing through my last semester like it’s gonna last forever. Oh how wrong I was. I walk across a stage in a little over a month. Good god. 

But.. I know I’ll figure something out. 

I don’t know what this was, but it looked fantastical. It was a thingy in the middle of our cruise ship, attached to a compass that didn’t actually tell us the right way we were going. And then there was this thing up above, which just looked really cool. 

But that’s another story. I probably told those of you who read this that story already. If I haven’t, my apologies, will get on that as soon as I see you.

Anyway, onto the heart of the matter. I know I’ve written about how this world needs to slow down, but I feel I must make an addendum to that. Primarily because I’ve been ruminating a bit about life and living and leisure thanks to a certain someone. I’ll admit this up front. I don’t think like an adult. I’ve never wanted to think like an adult. “Being an adult is boring!” I feel the inner kid saying. Which, I’d assume, is pretty truthful. You don’t get to do a lot of the things that kids do. Of course, you can do them anyway, but you risk being called immature or childish. Conversely, if you act too much like an adult, you seem either like a prick or a kiss-up to make yourself look better to the adults. So what then? Do we just act like everyone else in our peer group? That could potentially be dangerous. Some people just have a different path than others, and that path might take more time.

Therefore, I’d like to bring this to the table. The society in which we live demands that we move at its pace. It’s not just about what’s big, what’s hip, and what’s next on the agenda. It’s also about what’s necessary: what we need in order for the next stage of our lives to proceed swimmingly. Now that, in my mind, is not the bad part. What I dislike is how fast this part of our lives needs to move in order for said next part to operate properly. We’ve gotta shove ourselves into adulthood extremely fast. Gotta shove ourselves into higher and higher education, gotta shove ourselves into really high-paying jobs, gotta shove ourselves into high everything. Gotta be rich. Gotta be tall. Gotta be pretty. Gotta be smart. All of these “gotta be“‘s hanging up everywhere the media sinks its teeth into. 

In high school, I’m not even sure what the goal is supposed to be. In college, you’re supposed to do many, many different things. You’re supposed to know what you want to do later in life. You’re supposed to begin to break away from family to either start your own or be on your own. You’re supposed to live your life as young as possible, be it through drinking, smoking, or any number of drugs you could obtain. You’re supposed to also get fantastic grades so you look good for everything. You’re supposed to do all of these things and make it into a magnificent package for the rest of the world to see. You’re supposed to. You gotta be. 

Make a plan. Stick to the plan. Fall away from the plan and your future is compromised, and by virtue of that, everything else is too. College is make-or-break. And grad school is icing on the cake for whoever wants to employ you. We pay thousands of dollars to get here. We’re spending money to make money. It’s an investment. It’s a fairly low-risk, high-reward thing, but there are so many ways to screw up. So many societal things draped around us as confinements. Only act this way. Only talk this way. Only be this way. If you stray from this, not only are you weird and shunned almost forever, you are practically branded unsuitable for society. 

A society of smart, pretty, ambitious, rich, fit, extroverted people. 

Look at that bookshelf. It’s mind boggling. Mostly mind-boggling in the sense that it makes no sense. You may gawk at it for exactly five more seconds, and then you must finish reading the rest of this post. Enjoy!

—-

These days, I will often just sit around, looking blankly at nothing. Other times, when it’s light out, I’ll swivel my chair window-ward and stare deeply into the various colors befalling my eyes. It’s quite relaxing, to be completely honest with you. 

I’ll go to bed at roughly three or so in the morning (loving my redundancy), wake up at approximately a little after eleven (or exactly at eleven-eleven, for insanely good measure), and then proceed with foraging through my fridge/pantry for whatever food’s available. It’s neat though, ‘cause sometimes I actually do get to cook—and that in itself is quite delightful. 

I’d get a job if the market was a little more forgiving of my entire lack of experience. Then again, they’re really expecting fast-moving, cheery, personable people in the retail/service/waiting business, the first of the three I very notably lack. I never was a fast-moving person, always being notified of my naturally incorrigibly slow pace (please note, I said incorrigible for a reason). Of course, this doesn’t mean I can’t move faster when the situation calls for it, but it does mean that I have a personal philosophy to uphold elsewhere.

To put things simply, everyone and everything in this day and age moves terribly, terribly fast. So fast, that I think the finer and smaller things in life are often forgotten in the wake of what’s big, what’s hip, and what’s next on the agenda. I admit, I fall prey to the “agenda” thing every now and then. Otherwise, I will move slowly but surely, like the tortoise to the proverbial finish line. I’m not really all that interested in moving at mach 5 like the hare to the next new thing, though. I’m quite happy letting the world evolve, and I’ll evolve too if I so need to. It’s all really a matter of perspective. 

I’ll keep taking things one step at a time, and they’ll work out just as well.

The above is a dessert dish from my culture, known as suman. Pronounce it as you wish, but either way it’s quite delectable. Double-boiled rice in banana leaves also marginally soaked in coconut milk. Mm.. 

This semester is rather interesting. Classes aren’t too hard, yet somehow the workload is strangely heavy. I grant that it’s largely in part due to my own laziness, but once I just buckle down on my work it’ll be fine. 

I may not be as ambitious or as determined for success as my other friends are, but I can safely say that once the time is right, things’ll get done. Next semester won’t be all that fun, but I think I can make the best of it. After all, next spring is just going to be a blast.

In tribute to my last post, I am still really, really thankful for thumbs. Using chopsticks would really be a lot more difficult than it needs to be, in addition to a lot of other things.. button-pressing in video game land notwithstanding. On the chopstick note, it’s really quite nice to use chopsticks for most of my meals. Pretty much the only thing I haven’t tried to eat with chopsticks is cereal. I honestly don’t think I’ll be changing that soon. I gave it some real thought, and I realized it’d be a lot more trouble than it’s worth, unless I feel like picking up each individual Cheerio (read: I usually won’t). 

I’ve been doing this all weekend. Not the whole “being a dog” thing. I’ve been doing people things. Like using my thumbs to play that thing that it’s playing. I have never been more thankful for thumbs. Without my thumbs,

saygoodbyetoallthespacesthatmysentenceswouldhaveandallthepunctuationthatreallyneedstobethere

But yeah. I’ve been playing this new game in japanese. Lo and behold, my elementary-level skills are rather shoddy, and I have gotten lost and stuck more than twice.

Okay, more than five times now. You know how in a video game you’d get stuck in a dungeon? I got stuck in a town. A town. I will never let myself live that down. But in the midst of my getting lost and stuck, I leveled up more than I needed and enemies began groveling at my feet for mercy. And considering what a jerk I am in-game, no quarter was given—and each of them dropped coins for me to pick up afterwards (also apparently afterwards is not a word. who’d have thought).

And now I’ve gone through yet another weekend unproductively.

Welp, back to slacking. 

..Crud.

If this does not frighten you in the slightest, there will be problems.

Been a while since the last mandated post, but hey. A lot has happened. I turned into an adult that can drink. Before that day I actually feared for it, all because my sister wanted me to become undeniably intoxicated. Probably any other guy wouldn’t think twice about this situation. You know, “DUDE YEAH LET’S GET WASTED!” Unlike these fellows, I like my liver where it is. And how it is. So, in order to save my liver that evening, I stuffed my stomach.

CRISIS AVERTED

The weekend itself was so delightful though. Mostly cool weather, an anime convention, and my birthday! Holy crap I’m twenty-one. But you know, I feel the same as last year. And consequently, the year before that. And the year before. And the.. yeah.

Well, I kinda just want a glass of wine. Just because.

I FEEL COOL.

Image unrelated. Then again, it’s mostly more fun that way.

(Pelicans are cool, don’t get me wrong)

Life has thrown me many bones, but at this point I wonder how many of them have been thrown at my head and/or heart. Some of them hit, so I have to think that something’s off. Despite the lass urging for a reprieve, things seem, for the vast subtlety she exudes, getting better. Even if said reprieve is happening as we speak. It’s like Romeo and Juliet, except with a lot less death and feuding. Poop does not need to hit the fan at my age or hers. I am confused, yet I am happy. Seriously, what’s up with that?

To be young and in love.. like dreams coming true.

This pelican probably didn’t listen to a word I said. Bitter shame though, I was divulging some pretty intense stuff. In retaliation, I ate it for brunch the next day.