It’s About Myself

For the longest time, I was passionate about writing about myself. I vowed to make a living out of blogging about my own psyche, expressing myself through humor and frankness. It was going to be a sure thing that my four years of higher education would be the summation of the ability: a long running, twice a week series of blogs about what’s inside my head. Unfortunately, I learned that I just haven’t been through many eventful things in my life to be worthy of such a self-indulgent premise, and I learned that the hard way, via self-enlightenment. The only impact I would make with these blogs, where I would routinely offer scathing critiques towards commonalities of society and the people around my life, is a pissed off reading audience. This is not some Fight Club scenario of the empty ordinary schmuck shouting “we live in a society” to the crowds. I am content with everything nowadays, which is probably concerning considering that I haven’t found a career yet.

For as naval-gazing and angsty as these blogs were, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t reminisce over this time when I was courageous enough to be so bold online. Sometimes, I’m envious of that version of myself, because I had something worthwhile. What I used to publish online was unique, at least in my mind. There are already thousands of loudmouths on the Internet who draft up thinkpieces and ten Tweet threads about why film is Important. I could talk about the state of the medium and film “philosophy” if you call it all day, but I’ll admit that the individual movie analysis can be slightly grating at times. There are just more equipped people to properly break down the artistic value of A Perfect World, and those people have probably done so already.

There is a good chance that none of this makes any sense. I oughta just show you what I used to write, now featured with annotations from 2022. This one I selected is titled “When the Shoe Doesn’t Fit,” where I discuss how I fit in at college after three days in. (Passages written in bold)

In high school, there was this charm with me, I suppose, that many people appreciated. I had the knack for saying something cynically polarizing or throwing some crazed rant about anything trivial in class. I don’t know, maybe my imaginations are completely far from reality. Wouldn’t be the first or last time.

Being incapable of distinguishing between ego and reality. I guess I really haven’t changed that much? I have never been the most socially outgoing individual of the bunch. I built up this artificial reputation based on a few moments in my senior year, all of which happened when I had friends in class. This is a mild spoiler for the rest of the blog, but when you refuse to make friends at your four year university, you start to think you’re some hermetic tortured genius.

I don’t think the folks in my residence hall take pleasure in that kid. Granted, I haven’t fully unleashed my high school persona, but vibes are vibes.

Or… I could’ve been just a person and not a persona. When it comes to holding boat loads of regrets, I am a shipping port. My freshman year of college just might make it over capacitated. The regret that is perhaps the most prioritized is reserved for my roommate. That kid deserves a Purple Heart for putting up with my irritable neurotic angst.

Perhaps they like the genuinely nice kid. Perhaps they like the kid who picks up girls like a forklift. I don’t know what kids like these days. (I know what Fortnite is, shut up.) It probably explains how I got started doing this shit. When you check my box in the filter section of what they like, nothing shows up.

In the character alignment chart, this writing represents chaotic evil. However, I’m still giving myself the benefit of the doubt when it comes to the quality of the writing. I remember that my prose and language back then even came out naturally. These days, it can take me ten minutes to pick the proper word to use. Based on how I used to characterize myself in print, it’s a miracle that I didn’t turn out to be a member of QAnon.

I know it’s nothing personal at all. New blood arises in your system once you reach upperclassmen stage, which makes you smug upon the peasant freshmen. I always love it when they harass us to attend school events, but immediately take out their frustrations on the fact that too many freshmen are there. But I can store those ideas for another day.

This passage is really out there. Most of the residents in my hall were most certainly freshmen. So apparently freshmen were lambasted for attending school events? (Narrator voice: they weren’t).

As you might expect, I don’t mind it at all. In fact, I embrace it. I do believe with all of my heart that one of the big keys in life is embracing any negative qualities or circumstances in your life. You’ll feel so much better about yourself. We fight and repel too often. I’m on the side of believing that people never really change on their fundamental level. So for me, there’s no point in shoehorning in a connection between the other UNH students in my residence hall, because I speak a different language than these kids, and it’s all fine. We can keep doing our business diplomatically.

This sums up my theory that I probably should have never gone to a four year university after all. I would routinely say “I should’ve gone to plumbing school” to myself during this time, but I think I would’ve been happy to roll with community college. It would’ve eased up on the loans. Without question, I carried myself with too much negativity, but I still believe I was never going to connect with my peers, as the college lifestyle was never in my bag.

Fear of Missing Out, or as they call it, FOMO?

FOMO? Fuck no.

I had a way with words. 

I would like to imagine that this kind of writing, a style and an attitude that can be packaged into a series, can give me a career. The job search is going as well as you think, and I wonder if starting my own thing is the last remaining path to success if things keep getting dire. The reason why I am hesitant to revive this writing subject stems from the response that I could receive on social media, and worse, if it ever comes back to me in reality. When I was writing these personal blogs in the fall of 2018, I was on a roll, and I had enthusiasm about its future. All it took was a single, benign comment, which mainly consisted of me trying to think more positively about my environment, and I turtled. I carry myself like I don’t have a care in the world, but deep down, I know that I’m sensitive to the reaction of others, which is not a great asset in this circumstance.

Well, considering this whole blog was an unnecessary deep dive into a life severely lacking in real adventure, I guess I have already jumped back into the game.

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