You Ever Take Your Brain And Smush It Into a Bowl?

Hot damn it's coming down this morning!

I don't know why, but I always tend to feel like things are stagnating in my life when logically I know they aren't. Why is that? Is it because progress is usually very slow, and when we are inside of something it's difficult to really gain perspective on it?

Or is it that I'm not as committed as I need to be, in order to progress in what I'm trying to progress? Would I feel more confident in my journey if I had more achievements or milestones to point to and say "Look, I am on the right path. I know I'm doing well, because this was accomplished."

It seems unlikely that I just need an award or a threshold of viewers or readers or comments or likes. I already know this, and I know enough not to chase those types of rewards that exploit something in my brain, giving me a little dose of happiness and energy... Intellectually I know this. When I sit down and try to figure it out, that's when it's obvious. Day to day though, I'm always sucked in. When I have a good idea for a tweet and get excited when my notifications pop up, when I'm posting this stupid blog to Facebook and track how many people actually take a look. Why can't I stop it? Are there steps I'm missing here?

There's likely a middle ground I keep missing in the shuffle, a point where I can have my cake but only eat half. Maybe I'm on that right path, and as I swivel back and forth to finding my best direction I'm still heading forward, and that there is no perfect trajectory. The big fear is that I'm wasting time, and that the frivolous distractions of media will keep me from my potential. It's not unlikely. That's why it seems like I need to take drastic action from time to time. Why completing my habitual progression feels just like any other chore, on occasion. Why I want to feel like the things I'm doing are resonating with someone. The fear that the steps I'm taking are not enough, that just because I enjoy doing something doesn't mean it's worth the time. The fear is that a consistent journey will always be surpassed by someone smarter, and faster, and more passionate. Am I doing this all wrong?

Oftentimes I'll lean into this fear, taking it further and further until I'm on the verge of hopelessness. Why I do this is a mystery, perhaps an attempt of my subconscious to keep me from getting my hopes up. There's only so much a positive mindset can manifest into the world, no? Or maybe it's all backwards, and the only time I'm really set back is when I sit here and ponder my own aspirations. Or maybe I am in the middle of something great, a journey so magnificent that in retrospect this exact post will be so dramatically ironic that it becomes the focal point of a best selling biography. Who the fuck knows. All I know is that outside the rain has stopped, my negativity has been removed by the leech of self-expression, and my latest podcast is halfway done with its export. There's more to talk about.

I really have no idea what marketing is. A personal brand, a persona, a reputation, social media presence, all of these things confuse the shit out of me. I don't get it and I don't like it. The counter-cultural part of me is repulsed, finding the facade of Instagram unattractive, the brevity of Twitter unsatisfying and angry, the metrics of Facebook confusing. There's so much to be gained from these platforms, though, and the more time I spend bashing and avoiding them the less time I'm building something for myself. That's the shitty part here, that I'm both in complete control and failing in this aspect.

It just doesn't feel right, building my own brand. I hate those words, I'm averse to the concept, I'm intimidated by the competition, I'm unimpressed with the content I put up. It's a lot of negativity that I'm bringing to the table, and a stubbornness that I can make it work by putting words on a free, bland page and post it, pictureless, to my personal Facebook. Who do I think I am? Why would that possibly be enough?

Am I ashamed of what I'm writing? Maybe I don't think it's good enough yet. I started this blog by just writing posts and not sharing them anywhere, using it as a way to simply store my journal entries and practice writing as often as possible. Is that the only value here? Do I just need to be more patient, do what feels right, and in 5 years I'll be happy with what I did?

God, I must be unbearable. I legitimately tried to be positive for a hot second, and it went right back into my internal centrifuge of anxiety. That's alright, this is mostly for me. It always is. I won't be shameful about it.

All I can do is go back to the gameplan, and hope I'm doing things right. Trust the advice of those who want the best for me, stay financially, physically, and mentally stable. Have fun when I can, work hard often, and maybe uninstall Twitter.

Man, I fucking hate Twitter.

Friday

Friday....

Friday Friday, Friday. Friday..!
Friday?

Finally Friday!

Haiku's aside, Fridays always bug me out for a second. This morning I thought it was Saturday but I had forgotten to get paid. Seems like money's on my mind, and also I assumed that I had such a crazy night that I blacked out for a whole day. That's the type of party person I am, poor and wild.

I like getting drunk. I think I'm good at it. It's not that hard to be social when you drink, I know, so there's nothing I should be really bragging about. I do think that I have trained well in the art of having intoxicated fun at bars, as it was my most valuable lesson from the 4 years in Oneonta State College.

First off, I'm really good at getting peer pressured. Super good at it. Chugging a beer, taking a shot, if anything that will escalate the night is asked of me then chances are I will do it. Unless I'm close to throwing up. I'm insanely good at knowing my vomit limit, my spew line, my Demilitarized-Zone of puke. I might be easy to pressure, but when I'm one drink away I will back off. It's my Superpower.


I also know like 3 party tricks. I can catch things in my mouth, juggle, and freestyle when the time calls for it. It might sound like I'm putting together a resume for the worst movie in the world, but screw it, this is who I am. If things are getting boring (These are pregame tricks only, don't start a rap circle at a public place) I'll be like "Who want's to play grapes?" and then my friend's girlfriend's friend's boyfriend, who's now my best pal in the world, will pipe up like "What's that, J-Dawg?" and then he will throw grapes into my mouth from across the room while nobody watches. It will be fun for us, though. That's all that matters.

I'm a good listener too, before I get too wasted. I've found that when you can break through the first few minutes of meeting somebody, you can get them rolling on something interesting or personal and it becomes a fun conversation. Nobody wants to be boring, nobody wants to do small talk all night, so I try and get them to say some weird shit. There's an art to that, too, and listening intently is the biggest factor. Are they talking about their job? Did they bring up a coworker in a dismissive or slightly bitter tone? I'll be all like "Aww, you hate this Cathy person don't you? Fuck Cathy!" And they'll be all like "YYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH" And literally turn into He-Man, Gain the power of Grayskull, and start rattling off thirty ways why they hate Cathy. Those are my favorite times, cause it feels like I just cracked the code into the world's most interesting Jukebox. Plus, I gain the social credit needed to complain about my own workplace. It's a win-win, baby!

I think my favorite part of the night is the points in between locations, like between the pre-game and the first bar and all the hopping in between. Those are the best, when the whole crew comes out and we count our losses. Great idea, everyone in the party should be given a dog-tag so when they decide to split from the group they can give it to the host and they know it's over. Then outside a bar it's like "OkAY. ALRIGHT WHo do we HAve? One... Five... Thirteen, Plus three dog tags, that's sixteen! HOW many did WE STArt With?" You know, responsibility.

And the late night food, holy shit. That's the most magical moment in the world. That's the moment when you know it's over, when you can hang your hat up and put on your bib, then go to town on something that is absolutely not the correct thing to eat. I'm salivating already, imagining the Oneonta specialties that call to me this very day. My favorite was something called the Gooch Special, which was pulled pork on a hot dog bun, with Mac n' cheese on top, then garnished with crushed Fritos. My my, what a delectable treat. I look forward to the day where a food truck at 2AM sells something more perfect than that, but for now I'll settle with pizza.

What I miss most about College, though, is the mornings after a good rager. When I could sit around with my buddies, hung-over as all hell, going through Snapchats and trying to piece together the weird shit that went down. Those moments brought it all together, linked my normal state of sobriety with the exceptional stupidity and brazenness of my drunk-self. To know that the shortcomings I have normally can go away with a few ounces of liquid, and that I will always be appropriately punished for it. The instant nostalgia and humility of a hangover does something to a person that seems... healthy? Man, this is edging close to some terrible life advice. Who cares, drinking is fun.

So yes, tonight we party. And I'm excited for it, I guess. I'm into it Intellectually, like I know it'll be fun, but it's a bit too early to be into it spiritually. Physically I'm always ready, but my body is the one taking the punishment so I wouldn't say he's too pumped.

Anyway, see me in White Plains tonight. I'll be the drunk juggler rapping outside the bars.

Short and Sour

I'm facing a little bit of a problem... It's an internal one, a problem that most artists (or as we call them today, content creators) face I'd assume. What's going through my mind is a dilemma of wanting people to read what I'm writing (consume my content) while still remaining true to myself in all the work that I do.

These thought loops always get to me. Right now, at 6:40AM on the fourth rainy day in a row, this is when I need to bring forth my own optimism. Something to counteract the barrage of doubt coming from one side of my brain to attack the other. The easier part now, as opposed to when I was 19, is that I know how universal these doubts are. The thoughts of not being good enough, or not understanding the industry, or coming to terms with advertising oneself as a commodity rather than a fully fledged human. These are modern problems in the platform of blogging or *sigh* content, but this has been the artists' struggle since as long as there's been artists. And there's been art since as far back as the 1960's, from what I've heard.

(I only consider people who do LSD to be artists. Sorry Beethoven)

So what? Like, really, what am I getting up in arms about? There are easy ways to push this forward and become more legitimate. There's still value in writing things that people don't read, as long as I come to terms that they might read it one day. But writing just for myself is.. it's just not the point. I like being heard. I used to be ashamed of that, thinking that true art is to be crafted from the tortured solitude of a misanthropic genius, that anybody outside of that mold would be settling for less and creating incorrectly. That the appeal to the "masses" is inherently wrong, and any attempt to justify the desire for our art to be seen is to turn a blind eye to the evils of capitalism destroying any sort of true creativity.

And look, I'm not here to talk about capitalism. Well, I don't know, maybe I am. Maybe every artist has to really understand it, come to terms with it, possibly even learn to love it.

Is the free market anti art? It doesn't hate creativity, that's for sure. Right now there's a huge push for authenticity, something novel in our culture and undoubtedly in parallel with the value of artists. So now, in 2019, what is there to dislike about capitalism? What is actually wrong with a system designed the way it is now, with 10 platforms to distribute our art for free, for billions of people to potentially see us, for a living to be made from the comfort of our own swivel chair?

What's wrong is what has always been wrong, except it's easier. It's not free, it's not easy, but it's much easier compared to when art began in the 60's. I think what's scary for me is the idea of failure within this system is that much more embarrassing. Not because my friends or family will see me fail, but in my own head if I can't make this work then maybe I'm just not cut out for it. If I can't make my writing become something valuable in this context then perhaps it is just valueless.

It's a weak mindset. As pumped up and excited I was last week, this week is certainly a valley. I need to stay patient, work hard in my day job and side gigs, and do what I love. Sometimes I just need to remind myself.

It's hard though, man. Sometimes it just gets hard.

P.S

I got some good feedback on my post yesterday. I'm gonna sit on it for a little bit before hitting on the topic of Melee finances again.

To iBDW and Moky:

I have extreme sympathy for Moky and iBDW. I don't want to sit here and assume I can fix all of their problems, not even close, but I definitely felt the need to explore the issue and offer my perspective.

I know Cody well, I was one of the players that he cut in half on his ascent, and we played/met up at both upstate and tristate tournaments alike. I used to think me and him had a special bond because he would hug me at every tournament, now I see that it's his thing and I need to come to terms with it. I love the guy, truly. It breaks my heart to see him in the position he's in.

Moky I know less about, but we met briefly at Shine last year after he beat in bracket and he was a really cool guy. As a player, I admire him deeply and am in awe with the creativity and flash that he has while still packing some juicy results. After reading his story, I was again heartbroken, and so I come to this blog now with a great deal of frustration.

Two of our best melee players need our help. We need to help them.

I believe that this is the best time for these players to make a career in Smash. I truly believe they can do it, and everyone on twitter is certainly showing their support as well. The leverage from Smash Summit 8, their skills in the game, their popularity, all of this can be turned into something sustainable and profitable.

**Before I keep going, I should take a second to acknowledge that iBDW and Moky are two different people. When I say "What can they do" I'm speaking on their similarities as melee fox players, and the difficulties they both will have in making money with this game**

Here's the nightmare scenario here: Both of these players start streaming and they both do decently well. Donations come in strong and these players are hit with a huge wave of support. After a few months, this support dies down, and unless they really hit their strive as streamers before that happens, then they won't be making as much money anymore. Then it becomes a game of "Do I stream, or do I go to this regional where first place gets $1,200 and second gets $600?" Then, these guys aren't just competing for the love of the game, they're competing to survive.

It's very hard to predict a streamer's trajectory, particularly in melee. These players will no doubt hit an audience right away, and with consistency could definitely pull some good numbers. Who knows, maybe they'll hit their subscriber goals every month and be completely fine. The scary thing is, this is still a chaotic way to make money. There is very little consistency besides the monthly stipend that they (hopefully) get from their sponsors. I would be scared to take the plunge too, especially since Nintendo is a cruel god and provides nothing to the melee community.

This is a scary time for both of these players. I don't want them to become forgotten, or anyone thinking that the money they get from Summit or donations or their sponsors is enough. Again, it might be. I might be scared for no reason, projecting my own shortcomings within the community and the game onto two much more capable people. I definitely hope I'm wrong. In any case, with all that laid out, I want to talk about solutions.

All I can do is channel Gary Vee here... What would he say?

Let's talk about leverage. Both of these players have tremendous attention on them at this very moment, it's arguably their biggest asset. I think their number 1 goal should be building their brands further, and creating a network of people that can help them push and monetize their brand. Then, they can subsidize their careers with either 1. Merchandise 2. Coaching or 3. Patreon

They need to stream consistently, but more importantly distribute that content as far and wide as possible. In order to be a melee player with real value, you must put out clips, quotes, tips, interviews, anything and everything you can possibly do to keep people paying attention to you. It's the only hope, unless you both go on to hit top 8 at every major you go to from here on in. If that happens, then this was a waste of time, and I'll go back to my hole where I just say aggressive things about commentators that make me feel insecure.

Here's my final plea, if you want to support either Moky or iBDW or both, see what you can do for them passed donating. Help them build an infrastructure where they can sustainably leverage this attention into real money, not just flash floods of donations or amazon prime subscribers. Even if it's clipping cool shit on their stream and posting it places, it helps. If everyone does a small part, just enough so that you aren't taken off of your own path, then two of our favorite players can lead a happy life. And then, selfishly, we get to reap the benefits of watching these two masters develop into some of the best players our community has ever seen.

To Cody and Moky (We aren't on first name basis) I hope that you guys read this as well, and look into making this a real career independent of tournament winnings and other things outside your control. I believe in both of you with all my heart, and I look forward to the days of you doing an interview after winning a major, telling Homemadewaffles that everything worked out well, that you're happy, and that melee is the sickest game of all time.

Best of luck. I'm rooting for you both.

(P.S, Donating helps a lot. Way a lot. Donate if you can to these wonderful people)

Melee is crazy.

I gotta get a short one out, because taking a day off hurts more than you'd think.

I had a crazy good weekend. Spent quality time with four of my closest friends, partied on the days you're supposed to party, watched Smash Summit 8 (!!!!) and came out on Monday morning relatively unscathed. There's a lot to be said for how a person spends their weekends, usually mine are not all that special, and when I get the chance to see my buddies in person it really sets my mind right for the upcoming week.

Not to say that I'm not tired, cause I am, but I guess it's a better tired than other types. I might have another cup of coffee before noon type of tired. I know, that's not any sort of fatigue that I should be proud of.

Anyway, updating my life is pretty boring now, especially when I'm doing it nearly every day. What do I actually want to talk about?

.....

Melee is crazy.

For the uninitiated, Axe just won Smash Summit 8. His first ever major. The context behind that is almost too difficult to describe, so I won't really try, but if you take my word that it's a really big deal then we can talk about what it means to me, to my friends in the community, and the future of the game that I hold so dear.

It feels like this game won't ever go away. There's too much love pumped into it on a daily basis for it to really die, too many exciting things happening, too many players trying to create their own stories and contribute to the bigger picture. It's inspiring to see the rise of people that started playing after I did, iBDW specifically, and how he's gone from a new player to top 15 in less time than anyone I've ever seen. I'm sure there's someone starting now who will be amazing in 4 years or so, giving another seismic shift to the melee community.

 It's incredible, slightly unbelievable actually, how exciting these last few months have been for the game. I'm not the person to really speak on it, since I can barely remember my own sets let alone others, but I do want to reflect on how I feel. I have my own aspirations with the game, as you all may know, and the likelihood of those dreams seems directly coordinated to the health of the scene as a whole. What can I manufacture out of a game with this level of heart, excitement, attitude and durability? A hell of a lot more than other hobbies, similarly aged games don't get the same attention as this masterpiece that's for sure.

And of course I tie this into my own experience, since that's all I can do and all I really would like to do, so I hope it doesn't come off as self-centered. I'm just saying that I'm inspired by those at the top, and while I know that my own aspirations don't lead to the same place (4th at summit, really cody?) I trust that following my heart is a worthy driver, and rarely the wrong move.

I guess it's just nice to be reminded why I do something, why I spend money and travel and shuffle around priorities. It's nice to feel a part of something, to look online and see hundreds of people get excited for the exact same reason at the exact same time. There's nothing better than community. Except for Melee, I think.

"Flip King of Weehawken"

Just sold some garbage for thirty bucks. Not actual garbage, I just found it next to a garbage can and took it for free, but if we're talking literal terms I turned trash into cash. Pretty cool.

This kick I'm on lately is filling me with a lot of energy. I'm not talking big bucks here, and not even over a long enough time to be talking about it so much, but it's where I'm at now and that's where I want to linger for a bit. I wanna dig into where this came from, why my brain keeps pulsing good vibes when I list something on Ebay or go through Nintendo games from my childhood. I've never cared so much about making money, so what changed?

Like with anything in life, there are different factors. Living on my own (rent, groceries, bills) is making me think harder about my income and how I manage my money. My day job is an entrepreneurial playground, and over the last year or so I've seen the power of online marketplaces, as well as learned how to use them. The media I consume plays a part too, as I'm literally following a framework set forward by one of my favorite internet personalities.

So yea, it makes sense that this is where I've landed. I have no doubt that I will continue this for the foreseeable future, especially since I need this money to fund my melee major addiction. I look forward to the first tournament I travel to funded entirely by this new hobby, a hobby financing another hobby. Pretty cool.

I dont like to talk on broad terms too much, but I do think theres a trend with people my age to get overwhelmed with the possibilities in front of us. We're told we can do anything, and now the internet gives us the tools to do that without leaving the couch. There's a lot of hope in that truism, but also anxiety, especially when you come against roadblocks, hesitation, failure or inadequacy. If I have so many tools, why am I still stuck? Why are there no results when I'm doing the thing that I love? If I cant succeed in my passion, if it's not who I am, then who am I?

These questions are shit-hard to answer!

I think I want to detach from these types of pursuits altogether. The framework of defining success is killing us, not the internet or Instagram or instant gratification. The exciting thing about selling random shit on the sidewalk isnt the thirty bucks, or the dream of being a millionaire using only Ebay, or any other lofty ideal. It seems to me that the best part of this is that it's real. Its grounded and indisputable, its directly correlated to the work that I put into it, and every sale that I make (remember, I'm up to 2 total. $37 profit. I dont know shit) is another sprinkle of freedom. This truly feels like the next great American frontier, and its exciting as all hell.

Usually I know pretty quickly when I like something, and I truly like this. I needed some way to fund my whole collection of side-quests, right? So maybe if I come into more money, a raise or whatever, then this will stop. I'm not saying this is who I am, my new identity isnt entrepreneur, I'm not aiming to be the flip king of Weehawken. All I know is that I've tried something and it clicked, and I just sold trash to some dude who thanked me for it... since I drove 30 minutes to deliver it.

Catch me in Brooklyn tonight, by the way. I'll be sifting through the dumpster next to Williamsburg's Acme

IDGAF.. JK I do

I don't write about my day job a lot. That's on purpose.

What should be the case is that I don't share a lot about my job, not that I don't write about it. I think back to all the crazy shit that's happened in my ol 9-5 and I hope that I'll be able to mark it down and remember it. I haven't shared because I don't want it to get to my coworkers how I feel about them, as I'm sure nobody else would want.

Is that a weakness, though? Caring about what other people would say to you if they were to read a blog about themselves? I've been taught not to care about what other people think since I was a little kid, so to completely inhibit myself from writing about this job, which I've had for over 1.5 years, feels a little like a failure.

I've always admired people who went overboard, especially for a joke. The people who see an opportunity to do something batshit and go for it without hesitation. Those are my type of people, I'm drawn to them, and in my head I always wish I had the courage to say things that I want to say without repercussion. I'm being quite vague, and that's on purpose too, since even a mild example might come off ass offensive.

I guess it's just not giving a fuck. That's what I wish I had more of.

I hate when people talk about how they don't give a fuck, it's clearly because they do, right? Also, people who say they don't give a fuck are often pretty upset when you challenge them on it, or don't take their side, or say anything that ruins their vibe. Is it possible to completely detach from other people? Is it even human to completely disregard what anybody else thinks of you, spin around in the middle of a room flipping double birds to the sales department and yelling "I don't give a fuuuuuuuuck!" They do. Otherwise they wouldn't have spun around like a performer.

I don't really understand my point right now, but that's alright. I wish I was just more bold. I'm finding a place for it, in improv practice or with people who like to push boundaries also, so with those outlets I can get it out of my system and code switch back to whatever else. Maybe I'm gearing up for the weekend, and this type of complaining coming out is a precursor to going hard as heck with all my friends. That's probably it. It sounds about right.

I just get annoyed by anyone who acts tough, speaks out often, can't take no for an answer. I don't think there's a lot of humanity in that. It feels calculated, like a decision was made at some point that they needed to put a barbed wire around their identity, and even if it keeps your ego safe from harm I think it's hard to take that wire away. Don't want people taking advantage of you? Fine. Want to further your position and gain respect? Alright, I guess you need to be a little aggro. Everywhere else, though.. Where does it leave you? What are you sacrificing with these personas? Those aren't leading questions, really, although I know some answers already. You're sacrificing being friends with me, dick. And I'm a sweet freakin friend.

But whatever, I can't judge. I don't know people. These types of guys (and it's mostly guys, let's be honest) are probably looking at the way I live as unbearable. I appease, I nod along with authority, I'm done what is asked of me, I try my best to hide ego. In my frat, my jobs, high school, that's just who I am. Doing anything else takes a lot of energy, and I don't know if I see any huge downside. My problem is that I become a target for these jackweasels, and that's where I need to start standing my ground. I need to learn how to bite back, not just retreat into the safety of my shell. This will take time, I'm sure. I'm not too concerned, since I always do have my shell to retreat into.

(In this short metaphor, the shell represents my sense of self and identity. It might not be full mature, but it can withstand outside forces and protect my vital functions)

So that's that. Being bold, learning to fight back, all that stuff. I'm trying to highlight my weaknesses as often as possible.

Being too nice sounds like a humblebrag. I'm not too nice, I just like being safe.

The Cool Kid and the Smelly Dork

Right now, I feel pretty satisfied.

Usually it just takes a few days to scratch the various itches that are consistently in the spine of my soul. When I go a week or so fulfilling my basic human needs, then a couple of days with decent creativity, I come to this headspace. I welcome it. It's the goal, in a way. The proof in the pudding (words down on paper), as it were.

I always get a tinge of fear, though. Whenever I have a sense of accomplishment, there's a rush of anxiety following up right behind, telling me not to get complacent. It's as reliable as a package deal for a popular guy and his nerdy best friend when choosing teams for a kickball game. You want the popular dude, but the nerdy fellow is louder than he should be, and if he just stayed quiet you would like him way more, plus he smells bad. This doesn't get in the way of you picking Jason (The popular boy, keep up) , because he's seriously a beast, and his positive attitude brings the best out of the rest of the team.

I'll put up with stinky Pete for now, but I always feel the need to complain about him or make him go away. "I wanted Jason!" I scream into poor little Peter's eyes, "You always come along and ruin it!" And that's on me, I don't like feeling anxious. I don't like it when self-doubt springs up as a counterweight to any modicum of success or momentum. I want to kick Peter in the god-damn shins and run away, then call attention to any pretty girls in the area and tell them he tried hurting a disabled boy but got his ass kicked. Is this relatable? You all get me.

But Jason, he's dope as hell man. When I get him on the team he's a freaking all star, hitting home runs left and right and fielding like a true hero. I love it when I get going, where I can keep a steady flow of work and focus for as long as possible. It's great! It's just that after every home run there's stinky Pete, stumbling up to bat with his helmet on backwards and shirt buttoned incorrectly. Why are you dressed up for kickball, Peter my boy? Who else is wearing a helmet? I just shake my head and let him get out, just trying to make it through the shitty moment with integrity in tact. Maybe that's my problem, though. Trying to remove or ignore something that's fundamental to who I am.

There's no way to get rid of Stench master Peter, here. Him and Jason are joined at the hip, and according to Big J, this crap-scented companion is a big reason why he's so happy and successful. Pete pushes him to work hard, to be his best, to focus and perform whenever he can. "Wow, I didn't know that" I say to Jason, as I return his laundry to him, pressed and folded. "These smell great by the way"

"Thanks! Pete reminds me to smell my best" Jason says, trying his best to make sense of the metaphor of which he is a part. "Anyway, back to that volunteer work!"

I sigh as Jason cartwheels out of the locker room. Pete shuffles his way out of a closed locker, then flounders out quickly while trying to keep playing Pokemon on his Gameboy but it won't save and it's running out of battery. I sigh again, but this time shake my head, which means I feel different.

Pete isn't going away, is he? Maybe he's just here to make Jason more appealing, like this popular boy is only cool when paired up with a true beast of a human. Maybe I need that consistent reminder of my anxiety so I know what the alternative is. A Peter without a Jason is just a waste of an at-bat. Jason without Peter might not exist.

Maybe putting up with this anxiety is just not the move. Maybe I need to get used to it, then start to like it, then get it to be a valuable team player. Maybe SP can be shown the way into a productive and attractive human being? I need a metaphorical Queer Eye, I think.

Or maybe extended metaphors are a waste of time, and trying to personify complex human emotions into a ubiquitous high-school experience is just a way of coping with the fact that nobody on earth will ever truly understand what I'm going through, ever, not even those closest to me. This desire I have, the urge to turn 'Pete' and 'Jason' into this idea that's so well articulated that anyone on the internet would connect with it instantly, it's completely unrealistic, and not just because of my own shortcomings as a writer, thinker, and communicator, but also the fundamental error in human language that will limit our ability to accurately reflect our own thoughts and emotions in perpetuity, and that the only way to circumvent the ultimately futile attempt to make my presence known or important in this modern world is to resort to these audacious rants and absurdly long metaphors.

See that? That was all Pete. That's why we keep this guy around.



P.S

Pete Ward, this metaphor was not inspired by you, I promise.

Gamify me, captain

I like to turn everything into a video game.

Like, real life stuff. Gamification is a word now (Although it's getting red-lined by google) and I think I'm a good example of it.

Some things definitely should be gamified, this ebay thing for instance. If you can't look at buying and selling on ebay as reminiscent of some sort of MMORPG then you had too many friends in high school. I played Runescape and World of Warcraft. Yes, in this context I am bragging. The only context I'm allowed to brag about that.

In these types of games you essentially had the freedom to play how you want, and some people would decide to "Merchant" all day. Basically, with the items that are constantly moving around the in-game economy, you can buy things low and sell them high. It was day trading, essentially.

I tried this a little bit, but I played when I was 10 and generally had no idea how to do anything. I didn't have a lot of $$ (Still talking about gaming, here). I was enraptured with the concept regardless of my own success. These MMOEntrepreneurs weren't at the top of any leader boards, weren't technically skilled at the actual game itself, but they were the cool people to myself and lots of other poor (in-game) kids. It also didn't hurt that they were decked out in FULL DRAGON. WHOAOOAAA

Now that I'm a bit older and have real, actual money to spend on stuff, I find myself fascinated with the idea of merchanting again. Coincidentally, and this is not to keep anything on theme, the first things I began research on has been Nintendo 64 games. I have 13 from my childhood and I looked their prices up on Ebay last night. I looked at how much they sold for in the past month, took the average cost, and have it in a cheeky little spreadsheet on my computer. For some reason, I enjoyed the process very much. Couldn't tell you why, it's literal data entry.

I'm actually thinking hard about why I liked it. I really didn't expect to. Often I'll get some idea in my head of what I want to do next, some grand scheme or maybe just a pop-up hobby. I'll get invested, talk about it all the time, then give it up when I decide I don't like it or I stop doing it for too long. There's a strong chance that happens again with this ebay bullshit, maybe 50% or so. Like, I haven't sold a damn thing yet, and I've mentioned it already what, twelve times? Oh well.

This felt a little different, though. I don't usually have energy at 9:45 PM, but I kept on plugging away happily. We'll see where this goes, huh?

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A final thought about gamification, I made my shower into a fighting game character today. In the shower, of course. And I didn't make it an actual character, but I did give it a tier list ranking based on it's merits, and compared it to my old shower. Let me try to explain:

Old shower:
Single handle for simple temperature control.
Sometimes inconsistent water pressure and temp
Three nozzle settings, but only one version is actually viable
   -Also non-detachable
Final Grade = Tier B -- Good for beginners to learn but lots of glaring weaknesses

New Shower:
Three knobs, confusing at first but gives surprising control over pressure and temperature
Detachable nozzle with one setting, allows for special attack "Butthole Blast" for the days when your cheeks got suds.
Extremely reliable hot water, but sensitive to same-floor toilet flush

Final Grade = Tier A -- Hard to learn but the core strengths and flexibility make up for it. Mastering the "Butthole Blast" will bring your game to a whole new level.


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Also, Melee has ruined me as a regular person. I can't do anything casually anymore, I'm straight up hardwired to try and optimize and speed up my "movement". The biggest culprit has been typing on a TV with the remote control. Most people groan when they need to type in their wifi password using only cardinal directions and an "ok" button, but I get into my gamer stance (Leaning forward) and take on the challenge. Have you ever out-sped the auto find feature on Netflix because you were typing the title too fast? Me neither. That is my Everest.

I have my email down to a stupid fast speed. I had to do it since the days of Xbox360, and that practice has sharpened my skills and made me into the man I am today.

So why bring this all up? I don't know, it's not like I feel bad about it or anything. I guess I'm just interested in how my head works, why I like the things I do, what I did as a kid that lead me to be the guy I am now.

What's exciting, though, is that I still have so much time to develop. I'm not sure how it works, but I assume that childhood isn't the only impressionable time of my life. I can do things now, in these next five, ten, fifteen years, that will influence me the same way my 13-year old self influenced me at 23. This time I'll have the sovereignty to make my own decisions, and the maturity (hopefully!) to stick with them for a long enough time to learn from them. I can't expect this next endeavor to be successful, or even that fun for a long time, so it's just a matter of staying honest to myself and taking it one step at a time.

Oh, and sometimes finding a parking spot is like a game, but it's like beating a boss for your little cousin and you don't want to admit that it's actually hard. Last one, bringing change to a coin counter is like turning in a quest.

Alright that's enough gotta go bye.

I'm settled but also totally not

I only have about 25 minutes for this one. Usually I'd give it up, but for some reason I feel it's important to document where I'm at.

Yesterday I was unbridled, taking on the day like an ocean wave. It roughed me up, but I stood my ground, and battered and bruised I was able to sleep at night like a baby. That metaphor didn't really hold up, did it?

attempt #2

Yesterday I had a headache, but I still did some shit. The couch didn't come. I did grocery shopping online. I tried streaming until I realized that my cheap internet wouldn't cut it. The writing I did was what I was most proud of.

So, alright. A day off didn't go so bad. Now it's time for a day..on? A day where I actually work. This is the real meat and potatoes.

Limitations can be good for creativity. Not sure where I read that, but I did, and I believe it whole hardheartedly. The only reliable and consistent way for me to stay creative is to write every day, rain or shine, unexpected holiday or not. I've discovered this before, this isn't some big epiphany, but now that I have my own place, can put my computer and my games and all my shit exactly where I want, where I can cook at 11:30pm if I so choose, where I can look up from my screen and see real daylight, this is when I can get into a rhythm. I feel it sneaking up, and now that I'm making an effort to put in my 25 minutes because I know it's better than 0 I feel okay.

Again I'm onto this centrifuge blogging style. Always happens, every time. I'll find a way out I'm sure, it just takes a few times. I just need to lock onto a subject and I'll be good.

Oh, okay, I'll talk about my new hobby. There's no real name for it, but it's finding free stuff on craigslist and selling it on Facebook Marketplace. I'll call it Craigsbook Faceplacing. Or Facelisting. Craig's Market? I'll settle on one later.

Anyway, It's a Gary Vaynerchuck thing through and through. I've mentioned him before (I really like the guy) and he keeps talking about the money that can be made by just picking up the free shit all over craigslist and selling it. Simple as that. With this new apartment I have the room, and with the new rent to pay I have the ambition. I picked up my first box of stuff yesterday, and am about to make a sale on a painting that I literally found next to my trashcan. Someone's gonna buy it for $30. Thirty bucks! Literal garbage is about to pay my lunch for the week. You can't tell me that's not pretty cool.

And just like that, I'm hooked. At least for a bit, who knows if I'll get discouraged or waste my time or get mugged. The world is crazy like that, but as a six foot tall guy I think I'll come out alright. And with a few extra dollars in my pocket I can afford to go my favorite weekend events in the world, Melee majors. I can't imagine a more fulfilling experience than hustling on the side to pursue a passion. Here's to hoping it goes well.

Ten more minutes. I can't talk about FaceCraiging (Frontrunner?) anymore since I've done it for 3 days.

I think right now is a very important time in my life. My Father would call it a "Defining Moment," My mom would call it "Growing a pair of balls." Whatever you wanna call it, (Defining Balls?) It's a rare opportunity to really shift gears on how I live my life. It's clear that this momentum will go away, complacency will set it, and every time I put my head in the clouds I'm wasting time with what's in front of me.

 This happened in college, both freshman year and Junior year, where I put everything I had into my first semester and let it slip in the second. It's a typical story, but I've gone through it twice already and I know how it ends up.

Freshman year, my big mistake was ego. After getting good grades my first semester, I let myself believe that I would be successful no matter what, ignoring the hard work that I legitimately put in. Second semester, I got a 2.1. A two point one!!!!

Junior year, my first semester living off campus, Is when I started my White board of National notoriety. I kept it up for months, balancing my complicated life well, and made the mistake of getting a big ego again. I ran for president of my Frat, lost, then ran for Vice-President and won. Sounds like a victory, but I was overbooked as it was, and ended up coming short of my responsibilites and personal goals in the position. That's for another time, and it's still weirdly kind of raw, but I do think it was a huge mistake.

I can say here that I learned a lot from these errors, but I won't know if I really learned unless I make changes. I need to keep these lessons in my head for as long as possible, not to weigh myself down with regret but to scare myself away from my ill-guided tendencies. This moment of high-spirits can falter, but it doesn't need to. I can have my first semester over and over again. Winter will probably still be shitty, though. That's for later.

Ok, three minutes. I forgot to brush my teeth so I'll do that instead.

Thanks for reading.

Nobody likes you when you have the day off.

It's always nice not having work. Actually, that's not the case. I explicitly remember last September, when the Jewish calendar stacks up it's off-time, that I was flush with workless days.

It was then that I bemoaned my own apathy on these rare occasion. For whatever reason I squandered my opportunity, and with each day that went by (I think it was 5 total for the month) I grew more and more frustrated with myself. It was like being stuck in a ditch, revving my engines and spinning my wheels through wet mud. The worst part, though, was that I believed that there was no mud at all, just that I had broken something in myself that allowed the car to move.

I was alone, after all. Who else is there to blame?

That was 9 months ago. The ol' gestation period. Not enough time for true retrospect, since I'm basically the same person as then, but with a change of setting I think I might now have some perspective. I forgive myself for watching as much TV as I did, for playing 4 hours of Dota (no joke) instead of reading or writing. I shouldn't have been so hard on myself.

How do I move forward, though? I've let go of the shame, the blunt force trauma of self-criticism, and look again to the same opportunity. What will I do with myself on my day off?

I think the biggest problem I face now, and a baby's length ago too, was the expectation I put on myself. I would think "This is what my life would be as a self-employed [profession unlocked at age 26] and I need to prove that I can do it!"

Okay..

Do what? Be a professional blogger? Stream games all day to an audience that doesn't exist? What could I possibly do to match a standard that hasn't yet been conceived, let alone gestated and birthed?

I really gotta let this birthing thing go...   *sigh* I need to self edit more


The point is, how do I judge what makes a good day? A Productive Day ™ . I hate it. Even writing about this feeling at a distance makes me feel uncomfortable and nervous, like I'm doing something wrong by even doubting that a day off could be good and.. *groan* .. Productive.

I really hate that the blog is named what it is. I mean, I don't hate it. I don't know how I feel about it. The word really grew sour, though.

So we need another word for this. Honestly, a top contender right now is just "good". I had a good day. It's vague, sure. One person's good day might be catching up on all their shows and doing laundry. That sounds pretty sweet, no?

My good day might just be this blog and that cute-ass facebook post for the Ashmasta. It was a good day, I *shreiks* hit all my socials!

Or "It was a good day, I napped twice and made myself lunch without burning myself!" It's all subjective. Not working for what I need. "Good" is out!

Maybe I should get away from simple words, use a rating system. I've mentioned this once or twice, but back in college I had a cheeky little whiteboard hanging up on my room where I listed everything I wanted to do in a day, and each night I would write what I did. There was a cleaning tab, schoolwork, exercise. I had smash as it's own tab, because of course I did. As cringy as it might sound, it actually kept me pretty responsible. I would hate writing down "Nothing" on any section, since I would have to read it for the rest of the week, and it lead to a lot of late night pushups and sweeping.

Anyway, I think I want to bring it back. Not in the bedroom, I will keep it in my office. That sucker is gonna stare down at me every time I hop on my computer, giving me an endless supply of responsibility. I will either become a better, more active person, or I will tear it down in a rage in three weeks. Either way, I'll learn something about myself.

That's for later, though. What about Today! What joy can I bring to myself on this day, how can I optimize my time and fortify my sense of accomplishment? These lofty goals might be terrible and wrong, so how do I bring it down a notch to something more reasonable? How can I spend time well and accomplish one thing. 

I love these turtles so goddamn much. This will be my one thing. I love you, turtles.

Shit, now I need a middle ground. Ahhh man, this won't get easier anytime soon, will it?

I must be getting on somebodies nerves at this point. Right now I feel like a dude who can run really fast, but only after he sprints in a tight circle until everyone on the track team gets dizzy. My mind right now is a centrifuge, and I'm just clinging on to hope that all this spinning will churn up something interesting. No resentment here, just a tinge of frustration. -- Sips water -- I also forgot that I'm a bit hungover. That could really do it.


So with all that, have I figured anything out? Doesn't seem like it. I mean, I wrote this, always a positive to write, and with all this junk out of my head I might be able to put something together. My apartment needs stuff, (Oh shit! A couch is coming today!) so I think the easiest way to make it a good day is to just -- Accomplish A List of Tasks© . Yeap. That'll do it.

Can being happy be this simple? Now that I think about it, a day full of putting together furniture, hanging up paintings, listing stuff on ebay, making myself lunch, then after I'm worn out playing some smash bros... Damn. That sounds like a great day!

So where does this anxiety come from? Maybe it's a framing thing, and instead of thinking of all these tasks as chores and bores, I could imagine them as opportunities to accomplish, and ish. Yea, okay. It's just a matter of tricking myself. Alright, I can get behind that. I am very gullible, after all.

So I guess I found a solution to days off. To metaphorically spin and gyrate and whimper and moan until all the dust flies out and I can think again. Right now, I found a day-pass for my sense of purpose. Now let's make the most of it.

(Maybe I'll snapchat all day lol. J7Gardner77)

New Apartment, Who Dis?

Alright, I'm in. Minus the bed, couch, 90% of planned decorations, a strong feeling of financial stability, a piece of our coffee maker that allows us to make full pots, and any sense of real accomplishment, Ashley and I finally moved into our own place. Just a few weeks back, my computer was in my mother's basement, feet from my bed, and each time I sat down to write I felt a strange and looming pressure to come up with something important to say.

 Not that I had anyone reading, or anyone who needed what I was going to provide, but because I needed to prove myself as somebody worth listening to. That, when living in my childhood home, 3 dinners a week provided by my mother, my job less than 5 minutes away, I had not fully become an adult. I had no real sense of responsibility, so everything I tried to make, or write, or sing, perform, edit, all of that needed to be manifested in my own head as something worth doing. That even though I was fine, I had no risk of starving, I was gaining valuable skills at my job, I had a loving girlfriend and the opportunity to travel, go to concerts, tournaments, etc. There was something I didn't have. I'm seeing the effects of needing to pay rent, I guess.

Parents reading this will probably laugh. I don't have real responsibility, they might say. I suppose I can't compare to those of us raising kids, and I don't really want to. The idea of having children, I would guess, becomes more appealing to a 28 year old than to a 23 year old like me. I feel responsible enough to pay rent, electric, groceries. I couldn't imagine paying for a useless kid, though.

And here's the point that will begin to push me, money. What I was missing before was a real budgetary requirement, a sense that I can't really do whatever I want, and in that limitation I think I will find growth. I hope I will, anyway. We are set up for stability, but not necessarily abundance, and so now it's time to buckle down and figure out my way to thrive.

But before that, even, I have to tackle the same questions that I've had since graduation. What are my goals? Why do I write, or practice improv, or compete in Melee? How will I support myself and remain happy? Do I need to monetize hobbies to live a fulfilling life?

I feel happy now, but it's a spectrum, you know? Like, scale of 1-10, I could say I'm usually anywhere between a 5 and 8, sometimes an 8.5 on a great day, 3:30 in the afternoon when I go on one of my mid-work walks. Those brief joys come often enough, and when they do arrive I make a point to stop and literally breath it in. I have no idea where that capability came from, but I'll take it as a strength and move on. I try to realize the happy times, however fleeting.

So again, I need to ask myself of my goals. Do I try to maximize those moments? Or keep myself from getting too down, perhaps spiraling, perhaps leaning on food, alcohol, or gaming to cope. Do I work on getting my work on, becoming more strict with myself and my work ethic? Should I bring back my patented white board accomplishment board, start impressing myself with what I can get done in a week?

About 6 months ago I feel like I had this same conversation with myself. What is the right way forward? I was trying to calculate everything -- what were my strengths, what can I leverage into a business, or a following, or a revenue stream. I feel like I'm in that same place now, with a new context and 6 months more life experience. I still don't feel like I have an answer. I do think I have a strategy, though, but I've had plenty of different strategies that I've either abandoned or never really committed to in the first place.

I think my problem is long-term thinking. I keep trying to place these benchmarks at times that feel appropriate, X months from now I'll have done Y, but they never really come into fruition. I think it's time to slow down, keep my head down, and start getting down to business. Short term goals will define this era of my life, I think. Let's think weeks, days, maybe even hours. How can I make this time the best it can be, from 10:21 AM until Noon, and see what I can come up with. That feels more right than any other strategy I've had in the past. Now it feels like I can actually have fun.

So I guess I'm in the wilderness again. That's ok. When I started this blog, my long term goals were such that this moment, now, is still early in the game. I think I'm three minutes into the first quarter. Maybe even two, if you count college as a series of pre-game stretches.

I feel confident that I can do something good. That I can craft a life where I'm excited for each Monday morning, not Friday night. That I can continuously build myself and explore different avenues, create different things, learn different skills. A life where I feel secure and safe, and can spread that feeling to my friends and family. There I go, thinking long term again.

It's hard not to.

I think that's what this blog is for, though. It's whatever gets me thinking in the first place, I gotta stick to what's going on in my head. That's the only way. And right now, I want to stick to now, but I can't help think about later. I'll work on that.

At first, I wanted to end it here. This felt long, I took a shower in the middle (Guess where and enter a sweepstakes!) and I didn't want to keep getting stuck in the bog of not understanding what the hell I'm trying to say. I felt satiated, like I completed my daily benchmark, and that if I spent the next hour or so playing games on my phone, that I was entitled to do so. Why feel bad? I wrote today! I can catch up on my Clash of Clans, get that star bonus baby!

I wonder if that will ever stop. Maybe I'll be a gaming addict forever.

Here's a truth that I'll need to bring up eventually, I've been toying with a gaming addiction for as long as I could remember. I triumphed when it was most important, fortunately being provided with a loving family that forced me out of the gaming chair when it was most crucial, and I luckily got into a college while spending a ton of my time in high school playing games. I didn't bring a computer to college, thank god, and it was there that I finally cauterized the pulsing urge to level up in World of Warcraft or rank up in League. I got out when I needed to, and when I found melee, I found that it was the best outlet for my dormant urge to play games.

So that's when I became a melee player, and to this day it defines me. I spend a small amount of time each day playing, and it fits neatly into my life. It's social, requiring two people next to each other for real competition, and because of this I've made some of my best friends through the game.

This isn't about melee, though. I want to play more games.

I've wanted to for a while. It's a bit shameful, really, since gaming is looked at as a form of escapism, not something to try to do more of. When you mention to your family (or god forbid your girlfriend) that one of your life goals is to play more video games, you must do so with your head hung in shame and an apology letter in hand. They see it as saying "I like my job, but I really wish I could watch Netflix instead!" It's just the way it's seen, and so there's work to be done to really articulate what I mean.

I don't want to live an "easy" life. I don't want more leisure, less responsibility, or greater freedom from the stressors of the world. I don't want to escape reality, living instead in the limitless digital playgrounds endlessly pumped out of the gaming industry.

I just want to have a lot of fun. Gaming is a lot of fun.

And now, with streaming and Youtube the way that it is, I see an opportunity for myself. Not the opportunity to make a living, I think that's a pipe dream still, but an opportunity to at least point to something I'm doing and say "See? This is not a waste of time. People like this. This is going somewhere" It's not that I want to be a full time streamer (Because I do, who doesn't?) but I do want to play games, and through streaming I can find my voice, or connect with people, or just show my dad on a weekly basis that I'm still alive.

Most of all, I can play games again, and hopefully be able to have pride in it. To say to those who might not understand "Yes, I'm gaming, but I'm also performing." 

And maybe this is all a justification. It probably is. Ever since WoW classic was announced, I've been thinking about playing and streaming it. Why not? Then, when my first viewer comes in, my first comment, my first conversation or follow, I can point to it and say "See? People like this. I'm doing something important."

And it's all shallow. I know it's shallow. Because truthfully, I should be able to play whatever games I want, as long as it's not taking over my life. Right now I sound more like a hoarder who's trying to keep their second favorite dart board from being thrown away. "No, look! This is vintage! I can put that in my beach house, once my 8-year old daughter marries rich and we get a beach house!"

Maybe I'm living in fantasy already? Before I get the chance to log in to that world, I have my make-believe brewing in my head already. Maybe I need to dodge and duck reality at any stage I'm in, and my lofty goals are nothing more than a distraction from the inevitable problems I can face at any moment.

Maybe gaming is something to be ashamed of. With the problems going on, why would I spend this time streaming games and not, say, volunteering for a political campaign? Shit, I'm doubting myself. Is this another trap, always thinking that my time could be spent on more important things? Did I discover this thought myself, or were the seeds of doubt sowed by society at large? Should I ignore this shame, or use it as a driving force to make my efforts worthwhile, pushing them passed the point of an excuse to have fun and, instead, as a true higher purpose of living?

Just because I want to do something, and have for a long time, does that make it really the right thing to do? Will I trick myself into thinking it's more important than it is, or more lucrative than it could be, or that I'm even talented enough to make it worthwhile at all? Is this really an opportunity, or rather an existential threat, a chance to double down into something with no future, beginning the cyclical collapse into despair that can only be spotted from the outside, prompting my loved ones to reach out in concern, which leads me to dismiss them because they can't possibly understand who I am or what I do? Is that possible, or did I just avoid it by exploring the possibility at all? Or maybe the opposite, and I just willed it into existence by breathing life into this horrific, hypothetical tragedy?

Didn't think it was going to that place, did you? See? I already feel different. Like I could seriously write about this crazy shit all day, and even though I know it's going nowhere, at the same time I know it's important. Before you stress about me, I'm fine. I like going into that dark place. Feels like a real rush!

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I needed to move out. It was limiting beyond what I could even understand. And now, even though I'm limited in other ways, I know that I'll be alright. When I just look at what's right in front of me, this is what I can do. I can make rambling, depressing, and honest blog posts. I can begin to discover who I really am, not what my 5-year plan is.

I feel like I'm learning how to lift up the dams in my mind, and just allow the free-flowing thoughts to come through as quickly as they can materialize. This is good. I know it's good, and it will be useful in whatever I do. What I need to do now is work on everything else, not becoming distracted with where that water will end up, or who will drink it and want to buy a million cases of it. Once this water escapes, it's out, and it will end up wherever it may, and that must be ok with me. Maybe when I'm 28, I have my first kid, a much more expensive apartment, a more important day job, then I can start worrying about who's buying that water. For now, I just gotta learn how to get those rain clouds over the reservoir, and keep out the bugs.



I love extended metaphors, because after a while you either need to abandon them or seriously risk losing the entire train of thought. The bugs are shitty writing, in this case. The rain is productivity. The people drinking are literally just my parents.


I know something now that I didn't know when I first wanted to end the post. I love writing. I need to keep doing it, for as long as possible, until I die most likely. That's the truth of it all, and the only thing I really know for certain. This change of pace, a beautiful scenery behind my desk instead of a cold basement wall, this is what I needed apparently.

Next time I'll be more concise. Or maybe I won't. I still can't control the rain.