#i know my blog has been escapism central lately because life has been kicking my ass but i want to say this really quick

[olliecoded]

i'm going to bed now but i need some of you to think really hard about whether you've identified an ingroup and an outgroup that you now believe have intrinsic moral value. the exigence for this post isn't necessarily important because i don't want to call anyone specific out but people are complicated and messy and aren't inherently good/bad, and believing that groups that you yourself are part of cannot have any negative qualities makes you blind to issues and prejudice within those groups. this is especially true when it comes to categories that we have been especially trained to believe are mutually exclusive: abusive queer people, religious leftists, conservative people of color, etc. 99% of the time, "you are x and therefore you cannot be y" is false. but it makes it feel easier to be a good person if you know who you're supposed to be nice to right?

[moreinterestingonline]

Old Blogs

5/11/20If I was pressed, truly reamed and grilled, for the location of where the last five days went, I would not be able to produce a satisfactory answer. It seems like they just flew by with neither rhyme nor reason.What I’ve been thinking about during these past five days wouldn’t fit in a blog post, but I can highlight one central topic: world building. I’ve been trying to write three novels this year. I often get asked if it’s difficult to keep the worlds separate from one another. I usually answer with a “It’s really not that difficult” or segue into a cute anecdote about my dog, since most people aren’t interested in an actual answer. To those prepared to listen, I hand them a “yes and no.”No, it’s not as hard as it seems because I use one to escape the others. The worlds must be different, unique, and distinctive because any bleeding through wouldn’t offer me the complete new reality I crave when I am struck with writer’s block. I try to think of it as preparing for a triathlon. Sure, you use similar muscle groups to run, bike, and swim, but you don’t show up to the pool in track cleats because the detail would be identified as alien immediately.Yes, it is hard because the same overarching themes will appear as they will in an work of mortals. What kind of story would it be if there isn’t a struggle of good and evil? Would it be listed with the best sellers if there wasn’t an endearing mentor who gets killed at the beginning of the adventure? Oh? Too far? Even so, the themes that have defined my life will more than likely pop up in more than one of my books. I will have to work then even harder on my characters and their environments.These considerations are important to my approach to world building. I must carefully paint with three different pallets the physical attributes of each of my worlds. I must be cautious of what the careful reader might notice. I do not reuse sets or scripts. Still, as I compose three separate works, the ideas I believe in will show up in these different colors. I am only one writer with one perception of reality. I am extremely limited in my quest to entertain masses. All I can do is work and revise and work again, and hope that there are other people willing to step into my shoes.Personally, not a lot has been going on. Today was the first day in I don’t know how long that I did all the hygiene an average person would do in one day. I’ve started bullet journaling again and texted my goals to my best friend so I have accountability. My project right now is to make looking and feeling good my job for one month. My personal hygiene has become so neglected as I have sunk deeper and deeper into my depression. The other day, I just woke up with the motivation to turn that part of my life around.I know it’s only been one day, but it’s been so long since I actually achieved something in this area and I’ve been so sad that I thought I should celebrate this step.I’m so tired, but I wanted to get one more thing checked off my list tonight before I go to sleep.Sometimes I wonder if it’s time to learn another language. I feel like most people my age have at least two languages under their belt where I have just the one. I want to be considered bright and I feel like this is the next step.Here is the point again where I consider sleep less important than the things I could be doing instead of sleeping. Where is this little voice coming from? What is so dark inside us that wants us to fail? How can you ride a ship you’re preparing to sink? Is it fear that wants to personify it? Make it a separate entity so I can’t be to blame for my own bad habits? Who knows.I’m beginning to enjoy television, which is sort of new for me. I wonder if it means my attention span has finally reached null. Sure, there have been very well done productions I’ve been a fanatic for in the past, but I’ve never been able to turn on a random show and just enjoy. I’ve almost finished watching all the Storage Wars available on Netflix. I never thought I’d be the kind of person that turns to reality television, but here we are. Maybe this is how quarantine truly breaks me. If I don’t have focus, I don’t have anything. I’m beginning to nod off. I really want to reach a thousand words before I go to sleep. That means no editing whatsoever, just stream of consciousness. It’s been feeling more like a dry creek bed lately. I could stare at the ceiling for hours. I could sleep all day and not be bored. I know that’s concerning. I’ve already made an appointment with my doctor about switching my medications. I just want to feel like I did when I was in second grade, seventh grade, ninth grade. There is so much left for me to do here that it feels overwhelming.Nearly there. That gibberish sure helped. Take this as an example, kind reader, of what I usually cut out for your benefit and mine. It’s okay, I know no one is reading this. I just need to allow the chance for someone to hear what the people in my life can’t hear for themselves. I’m so scared of being a burden that I don’t know how to open up to people I meet in real life. It’s either I don’t want them to know my middle name to “What’s your mother like and how did that affect your psychological development?” That’s it, thanks.

5/6/20

Alas, another day has passed and! I’m still depressed. How did that happen? Did I make zero changes and expect something to happen? Maybe. But I did wish for it really really hard. (I know, in THIS economy??)

Silliness and vague misdirection aside, today sucked. I spent the morning in a weird, unawake haze because I hadn’t slept. The afternoon dragged on as I crammed for my Modern Grammar which (and now here’s the real kicker) kicked me good in the pants. Lastly, I told my roommates that I plan on moving out and they did not take it well. All this contributed to a day ill spent.

I don’t know where my weird relationship with sleep came from. Logically, I know that I need sleep. I know that sleep will do me well and allow my body to get ready for another day. One day, a little voice crept into my mind and told me that sleep was optional. I haven’t been able to shut it off since. Need extra time to study? Want to get to the next level? Only another hour before your friend in another timezone wakes up? Might as well pull an all-nighter. Objects in motion, after all.

I’m also out of my sleeping medication. And I haven’t been taking my medication. I’m struggling and I’m lacking the discipline to push myself the extra mile to potentially getting better. I think what I need are some small victories. Already, I am writing. I am journaling. I am crossing small things off my list in a desperate attempt for dopamine. Desperate, yes, but shameful? Absolutely not. It feels like I’m running a marathon underwater, but I still intend to finish. It’s just going to take me a little longer.

At one point and time, I was filming taking my medication every day and posting a little mental check on Youtube. That was good, until I missed one day, and then three days, and now it’s been almost a month. I just feel so guilty over any reveal of failure or shortcoming. How am I supposed to come back from showing that I’m not perfect?

I don’t know if this needs to be said, but if I were talking to my friend in the same situation, I would reassure them 1000% that I would love them no matter what, especially through their imperfections. It’s not that I set the bar lower for my friends than I do for myself, but I am a lot harder on me when I don’t meet my expectations. I guess that comes with being a wild romantic, right? Reality is that blinding white light that pierces through daydream. The clear solution is to have more realistic daydreams, but those aren’t nearly as fun.

Small victories, eh? What goals can I set for myself?

It’s late. I should go to bed. Today was rough and on top of everything I’m dehydrated. I hate complainers and hypocrites. I shall bless your feed with another rambling posthaste, rest allowing.

5/5/20

I’m going to pretend I didn’t see the clock strike midnight and write this from the perspective of today, May the 5th. A good, round-numbered day to start something new. I’ve always been fond of round numbers. I’ve always been fond of clean slates.

My central problem in life right now is that I’m depressed. I don’t like myself. I don’t like what I do with my time. Everything seems pointless. I lack purpose, direction, inspiration. I love the world and find myself submerged in curiosity often enough, but I don’t apply myself towards meaningful goals. My lack of application is the root of my unhappiness. If I wasn’t me, I wouldn’t want to be friends with me. And that invokes a whole other can of worms; namely insecurity, impostor syndrome, and low standards. But I digress.

I. Want. To. Be. Happy. I want to feel like I am making progress. I don’t want to feel vaguely ill anymore. I don’t think I should have to live with boredom as my default emotion. I don’t want to have to repress anything anymore.

How can I be happy? Well, isn’t that the age-old question. If there was a simple, clear-cut answer, I would bottle it and become a billionaire. Instead of a product, though, I have the following goals.

In order to be happy, I need to take care of my body. I need to be kinder to the vessel through which I experience all happiness, through which I enact all acts of generosity. What will this look like? For one, I would like to have a “glow-up”. I would like to have a before and after photo-set that I can look at and be proud of. This will mean skincare, daily showering, healthy eating, and regular exercise. I can’t expect myself to be happy in an unkempt body.

I am going to execute this goal by applying a hygiene routine, researching daily workouts, and keeping track of what goes into my body. I will also take the time to do silly, frivolous things like put on eyeliner and curl my hair simply because it makes me happy. I will have a more coordinated plan by tomorrow. For now, I research.

In order to be happy, I need to take care of my brain. Practice makes perfect and no practice makes mush. I don’t want a pile of mush directing the rest of my life. I want a clean, sharp machine dictating my every move. I want the gears to shift as smoothly as a well-oiled watch. I want to feel as efficient as I did in high school, when I was taking college courses and researching off-curriculum subjects just to ease my questioning mind.

I am going to execute this goal by finishing my semester strong, spending dedicated time each day towards active learning, and planning monthly projects. I will also find ways to implement healthy curiosity in my daily conversations. I was a “why” child. Why is the sky blue? Why is the grass green? Why do we have ten fingers and ten toes but only two ears? Why? Why? Why? I want to transition back to that motivated, inquisitive mindset. As with taking care of my body, I will have a more decisive plan for this goal tomorrow.

In order to be happy, I need to take care of my soul. One of the biggest reasons I’ve been increasingly unhappy these past months (or even years, you could argue) is because I am simply not creating more than I am consuming. A great joy that is allowed us is pure creation. I am tired of sitting passively while muses give up on me, moving onto to the next open mind. I want to build up my patience for writer’s block, to give in to the urge to write badly rather than not write at all.

I am going to execute this goal by setting word counts for myself daily depending on my schedule, setting due dates for my projects, and holding myself accountable with creative partners. I know I have stories to tell, characters to illustrate, worlds to discover. I have always felt that within myself. “I contain multitudes.” There is opportunity here, if I am only willing to open the door. I’m a firm believer that nothing worth having comes without effort, but I’ve been sitting idly anyways. What hypocrisy.

Those are my main goals. This slate is no longer clean. I have marked it with intent.

I’ve always like clean slates because it feels better to start something new rather than digging yourself out of a hole of failure. Let me acknowledge, I am buried deep under years and years of bad habits and ill-fated mindsets. I have allowed myself to sink to this depth. It is no one’s fault but my own. I am not trying to say anything different that, nor will I ever attempt to blame someone other than myself for my circumstances. This has been my doing and my doing alone. So, when I say clean slate, you know that I know that there is no such thing as a clear state. I am merely marking a line in the sand to cross over and become a different person. Hopefully.

This has gone on for too long. I sent a goal of 1000 words per day. Initially, I was wondering if that would be enough, or if it would be too little. Would I be boring whoever came across my articles of dis-wisdom? Would I be leaving them without adequate information to ever bother reading something of mine again? We don’t really know the fate of our goals when we set them. We pin our hopes to them like ribbons, we shower them with expectations, but we can’t ever really know how things will turn out. I can’t say for certain that i will ever complete these goals, but I cannot let that discourage me. After all, this has been 1000 words.