Me: Will You Marry Me?
Me: What if I wasn’t joking?
Girl: Josh, you you don’t know me that well… We’ve not even tried to have a relationship, let unknown getting married… We might not be suited!
Me: What if I told you it felt like the whole universe was shifting landscape around me to create a path I could follow that would lead to you? Like there’s a magnetic pull I’m constantly fighting because of modern obstructions, paradigms and taboos and my ‘sense’ to stay sane and not let loose and do something seriously fucking crazy… What if I could let go of my insecure voice inside questioning “what if she’s not into me, what if she isn’t what I thought she was?” - What if we could run away and change everything we thought we were and become who we’re supposed to be together… Frankly I don’t understand why I’m saying these things, it just feels right… And I’m becoming the person who’ll not think twice about doing what I think is right, questioning it doesn’t even cross my mind.
Girl: Is just Josh’s imagination getting carried away with itself.
This week, or maybe the last three weeks, my mind has been hosting some peculiar thoughts. Every now & again these times come around when I feel unmotivated and what I class as ‘off the rails’. I spend a period of time neglecting the things that drive me as a person and instead focus on degenerative things like drinking and ‘socialising’.
Obviously I have no issue with socialising, in fact I love spending time with my friends and even meeting new people. The problem is, as I believe I have mentioned before, in the culture I’ve grown up in and come to know socialising, it always seems to involve extrovert-based ‘antics’.
It’s not so much the actual examples of extrovert choices of ways to pass time that bother me, such as going out to locations full of people and drinking, or spending time with people I don’t know. What is starting to effect me is the mindset & behaviour of the extrovert people I’m with. - Now don’t get me wrong these people are good friends of mine and I’m not in any way judging them for what they do, it’s all socially kosher stuff and I don’t see it as bad, I’m just explaining here how it effects me.
Things that seem small to them are big to me and things that seem exciting to me bore them. Drama is often exciting and driving for them whereas for me I couldn’t care less about the stresses other people are placing on themselves. The way they approach and converse with other people is very different to how I prefer to. - They will often thrive on small talk and use it to their advantage whereas I prefer a knowledgeable or conceptual conversation. I like to spend time recollecting my thoughts and summarising my night the day after a night out whereas a lot of my friends want to go out and do the same again and get annoyed when I neglect conversation with them. - Something I’m never going to be happy about, personally I don’t think a friend should have an issue with me wanting to have time to myself when I spend a fair amount of time with them anyway.
Another example of where our thoughts differ is on women… They’re always insistent that talking to women requires a formulaic confident small talk and if you’re the most determined and confident man then the girl will be yours for the night regardless of any other contributing factors. This is likely the case for the majority of girls who attend the places we’ve been attending, but they’re not the kind of girls I’d be comfortable spending my time with - even if it was time spent in a sexual manner. Question: Where are all of the more introvert girls? I never seem to meet any… But again that could be because I’m always in extrovert-based places…
As I’ve tried to make clear here, I’m not anti-extrovert and can handle extrovert situations and adapt my personality to fit them but I’m starting to feel less comfortable doing it and notice more what’s happening to my personality lately. When I drink too much in these situations - which is often a result of being in them, the extrovert in me is portrayed, and it’s a very strange adaption of an extrovert, it’s a person somewhere he shouldn’t really be. A lost cause. - Or maybe I really am just ‘growing out of going out’.
Just to proof the pudding of how my composure has slipped recently, I have to admit that I’ve been tooting the tommy toke fairly regularly lately and it’s something I gave up before because it messed my head up. I just forgot to what extent, I remember it being a case of paranoia and panic attacks (something I’ve learnt better how to deal with, even when smoking) - I completely forgot about the nasty trips of some sketchy alter-ego version of myself taking control of my psyche and making me question whether or not I’ve been awake for the past few months or if my life is actually existent. So this shit is going out of my life again.
I think all of this rebelling and passive outbursts of behaviour I don’t even condone is the result of repeatedly neglecting my introvert nature, or feeling compelled to be different to who I naturally want to be because some social vampires insist it’s how I should live. Social vampires in my life aren’t working with my naturally introvert personality. No longer will I allow these people to use their manipulation to make me feel guilty for being who I want to be, if these people continue even after I’ve firmly but friendly said no, they’ve got to be moved out of my life.
Looking back at going out doing these things, I’ve been seeing them as an experiment of what I can handle and what I cannot, and what I can’t handle is going out in extrovert situations too often - I lost concept of who I am as a result of not being able to reflect what I’ve done. I’m now going to focus on accepting and living with my introvert nature and avoiding situations and events where I might try and change myself to fit in better. I’m going to pursue telling my extrovert friends that they should no longer expect me to participate until they stop inviting me and if they continue to not even try to understand me, I’ll take great effort in removing their negativity from my life.
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The more I read into psychology & mental illnesses, the more it feels like everybody I know has a mental illness of some sort.
I think about speaking to one person I know about another and another about another & about what everybody thinks about everybody else & the way they judge.
It starts to dawn on me when I see the patterns in peoples personalities that what they’re doing when judging or questioning others is exposing their own weaknesses. A lot of manipulation takes place for self-benefit, a lot of slander for raise in ones own self-esteem.
Manipulation of many sorts seem to be firmly lodged in human nature, especially in the society I live & was raised in. I question my trust for others, because even if they believe I’m their friend, they’re still subconsciously trying to bring me down to try to raise themselves.
That’s paranoia. But I know it is & I know that I can’t think like that, that’s what keeps me from being truly paranoid. I clench to the knowledge that there are personalities & cultures in this world that aren’t egotistical & narcissist & will help others even if not themselves. And I can take this belief & share it with others so that they can ponder it consciously & hopefully absorb it into their subconscious, so deep down they’re becoming better people.
Or maybe I’m just a martyr thinking I’m helping others but somehow benefiting myself? Either way, I can’t study my own mind too hard or I’ll find its demons.
After I painted the sky red I pondered the effect it may have, I thought to retreat to a safer environment where the results of my work would have no direct consequence to my psychological state. I looked up at the beauty I had created and what I thought may have been a slight smirk in the corner of my mouth presented itself, but it may have just been a nervous twitch. As I looked up I could no longer take the intense glow beaming back at me so I closed my eyes. What happened next was the magical part. I heard a giant ‘glop’ sound followed by a ‘splash’. The entire sky had formed into a red raindrop and dropped onto my face. I spent a second or two embracing the change with my eyes still shut, I took a deep breath, then I opened my eyes. No longer was there any sky, no longer was there any light spectrum giving me perception of colour. Now there was only red, and the sky was a big colourless nothing.
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I always got the feeling that writers block was a flaw, a mental block caused by something going wrong in your subconscious causing your creativity to be sapped away. Lately though, I’ve started to realise that some of the mentality flaws I have are seemingly beneficial to my artistic nature. Every time I have real strong emotions over something (which, thinking about it, is always negative emotions; I have yet to feel a positive emotion I considered strong) music just flows out of me without any contemplation or procrastination. It doesn’t matter the reason for the mood I’m in, what sort of new experiences I’ve been through or what different equipment & tools are in front of me. When you’re an artist you will naturally reflect the experiences and emotions you’re attaching yourself to at the time.
But then I consider the fact that I may be getting too attached to these emotions or negativities I value in order to create ‘good art’.
I remember back when I used to cain weed on a daily it got to the point where I was worried to give up smoking weed because I thought it helped my artistic ability. I thought “damn, how am I going to make this chilled out, twisted shit if I’m some well behaved health freak who’s full of positivity?” - Regardless that shit had to go from my life for many reasons and my life and music benefitted (and I never really changed personality wise… I’m still a sort of chilled out but slightly unstable geezer!)
What’s bothering me though is that I’m noticing a connection between the rise in music I’m making that I consider bettering itself and the downward slope my mood is on. I feel like I need to be in a bad mental state in order to make good music.
I keep a record of my mental health state, or basically just write everything I’m thinking down when I feel like shit. I made the effort to read over the past half year of my life or so a couple of nights ago and realised that I’m blind to why I’m feeling the way I am when I feel it. I realised that I am such an idiot to what is going on in my life beyond my perspective at the time. What I thought was going on never actually was, I was stressing myself thinking things were going to happen based on hints that weren’t actually the hints I thought they were. But when I relate this to writers block I think fuck… It’s those exact fantasies and trips of painful confusion that I go on that induce the chemicals to have an artistic outburst.
Positively, I’m glad that I can channel the shit in my head somewhere because if I didn’t involve myself in the arts when I feel like a fucking throbbing forgotten gas cooker of feelings, questions and rage I would just explode in a reckless mess and battle the world physically until it broke me down to a drugged up thoughtless deflated balloon in a straight jacket.
So really, I’m not currently willing to try and make myself any more mentally stable or ‘normal’ to protect myself or further my mundane and conventional future. I’ve just got to make sure I don’t go off the rails with letting my emotion control and guide my life, I am not in rush to have a tragic early-death that many great artists seem to end up facing.
Another way I’ve looked at writers block is a time that’s needed to spend away from being focused on creating something specific, I like to use this time mostly to make shit and experiment, so when that next strong emotion comes along I’m prepared with a bit of new artistic knowledge to play with.
In summary, I think all true artists have to have blocks because they’re all easily emotionally altered or consider emotions more important to the soul and existence than other people. Blocks are just a response to an emotional quiet-time or an emotional experience that’s too easily understood to be substantial enough to make art with.
I read this quote earlier which I think sums up this blog well:
“Only the rare expands our minds, only as we shudder in the face of a new force do our feelings increase. Therefore the extraordinary is always the measure of all greatness. And the creative element always remains the value superior to all others and the mind superior to our minds.” ~ Stefan Zweig
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You’ll have to excuse me for this one, I always have trippy dreams when I’m ill.
I just fell asleep in the bath and took a brief journey into my digital audio workstation where I met & befriended a personified version of a MIDI channel. After forming a relationship with this MIDI channel & realising that she didn’t want to be within the DAW anymore, I told her I was able to take her back with me to the real world. She declined & told me that she couldn’t leave the DAW because to do so she would have to be converted to audio and would lose her liquidity, spontaneousness, soul and emotion. With that I walked away from her whilst looking back, head bowed into one of those cliche white lights, and with that I awoke.
So this got me thinking, isn’t it weird how we don’t notice the subtle wrongness of dreams. I mean, to me in this dream I was just trying to rescue a regular girl who was doing something she didn’t want to do but couldn’t leave. My brain just built the rest of the story around it based on something I participate in regularly & don’t need to think too hard about to conjure.