I am a concept, and you can be too!

if only i would get stuff done in my life amiright

fanfiction is shit and so am i so let's go
fight me

fight me bro fight me

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Concept Asthetic

What is scarier to authority than concept? Pretty much nothing. Our lives are a series of goals we create for ourselves, but what if we were to take these goals and instead seek to acheive concept? What if we set out our lives to create not the acheivement but the situations for acheivement. We are to create for ourselves not a reward but an aesthetic.

So this is what I seek to do in mind, body, and soul:acheive asthetic.

But what asthetic in particular?

Well, if I may, let me just list a couple of asthetics that have really been speaking to me recently....

1) The bubble boy who died because he wanted to experience life outside his bubble.
2) Keeping dying roses around because you like how they look
3) Blinking yellow streetlights when the day is too dark and too late
4) Drinking cheep wine out of a coffee mug
5) Living life out of a clean laundry basket instead of putting clothes away
6) A sense of achivement fulfilled from video games
7) When the fluorescent lighting of the classroom makes the black ink on your handout look green
8) An existential fear of commitment
9) When you lie on your side in bed and your eye tears up for no reason and smears your mascara
10) Shitty glitter cosmetics
11) That feeling you get after waking up from an unrestful sleep and youre all sore
12) Turning off auto correct
13) The one bunny that always eats the grass in your yard but you love him so
14) The smell of play-dough
15) excel spreadsheets
16) subtweeting people you really love
17) being in love but not wanting to be because the timing's wrong
18) a bubble bath that smells like soap and roses
19) soap and roses
20) champagne but not drinking it for any reason, just because
21) crying but not because you're sad- because you're relieved
22) the sound of popping bubbles
23) spending time with a puppy dog but feeling sad because its not your dog
24) wearing clothes you hated at first but now you love them
25) the idea that everyone you know and everyone you love, what you know of them exists soley in the confines of your mind
26) studying hard for a test but failing it
27) opening all the windows in your car on the interstate
28) a foggy evening and an even foggier morning
29) sunsets full of clouds and you can't see the sun or any of the colors of the usual sunset
30) sleeping in a bed comfier than your own

Healthy Obsession

A little perspective, a little hindsight, and a lot of regret never hurt anyone.

Especially not me when I realize my previous ranting post about Hospice by the Antlers is not really the usual loving and teen-like admiration we all experience in our lives. No, this shit was obsessive. Obsessive as in the album was the only thing I listened to for over a month.

So I tried to take this mentality and evaluate many of the other things I spend my time doing. Like the 10 hours I spent putting together my pokemon competitive team. Or maybe the 200+ hours I have on my Animal Crossing New Leaf Game. Or maybe the fact that I have managed to read at least half of the fanfictions for the pokemon main game series out there.

So maybe I'm just an obsessive person, but I know I'm not the only one.

At least, as much as I wish I could be, I'm not this guy. Or maybe even this dear brave soul.

But the more I look, my obsession doesn't seem all that off. Maybe I'm not the only one who possesses this personality characteristic, to obsess. I've got a super cute friend who had her long obsession with the book series Persepolis (which is a fantastic book series so it's totally justified ;) ). I've got another bro who I know has this affinity for all things French, slap an Eiffel Tower  on something and she will be all over that. And my own young sister somehow manages to spend all her time on pinterest and has over 2000 followers I don't understand this at all still what the hell Lily.

So maybe, all in all, these things should really be relabeled. Our compulsory attraction and affinity to a given concept, entity, or being should not be ridiculed, but held in esteem. These are not our obsessions, these are our passions.

Yeah, that's your passion. This is your passion.

Now what you need to do is grab it by the reins and go, run as fast as you can. Chase it and, if you're willing, make it yours.

This is what most people label as the epitome of employment, to make money off of your passion, and you can do it!


But what if you haven't found your passion yet? Or maybe you realize it's not really gonna be the best way to make money?

Don't worry my friend, just keep at it. Things will come with time.

Childhood Regressions and Contemplations

Dear Younger Self,

I have this picture of us on my bookshelf by my bed. I look at it every so often and I think about how cute I was (how cute I am) and how much I've changed since that photo was taken.

Other than the obvious- I've grown a TON (yet somehow kept the bangs at the end of the day) and I've grown emotionally a little bit more than most people my age; but it's not really anything to brag about.

What if I were to tell you now about my current problems and struggles? You wouldn't understand and it would be so foreign to you, I know.

I hope that that's true for others my age as well, that the issues they face now would be incomprehensible to their younger selves.

I don't really have any "30 things to tell you" or anything like that, sadly, but I might be able to scrounge up a few things.

I still have our favorite stuffed animal, hamster, although he's far more worn and dirty than where he is right now with you. "Well loved," mom will tell you. "Messy," You will tell yourself. After reading Velveteen Rabbit you will agree with her.

Today I was reminded of you again when I went outside to shovel and ended up playing in the snow and dang was it fun. I remembered how much we like the snow and how much I've learned to dislike it because driving is scary.

There's something I can tell you.

DRIVING IS SCARY. BE CAREFUL AND PRACTICE MORE.

I guess all I really have to say is that even though we've changed, I still have fun looking back on all the things that have stayed the same even though I tend to just do them for nostalgia alone and I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

-Present and soon to be past Annabelle

In six days every single living cell in the world will die...

... you have one chance.

This is how the flash game One Chance greets you. You play as a scientist named John who is faced with a lot of choices and you have to make them for him. This game stands out among the rest because you really only have one chance to make things right as the game stores cookies and will only let you play it once. The choices you make are permanent and there's no do-overs.

Before I go off on a rant about this game I'll let you play it for yourself. Take your time with it and choose wisely.

THIS IS THE BOUNDARY OF SPOILERS

So, my friend, what happened to you? 

Did you save the earth or didn't you? Do you regret what you did? I hope not.

Using a little trick I like to call "clearing cookies" I have played the game multiple times, but nothing quite feels the same as the first time I played it and I wish I hadn't played the game over again. It kinda ruins things.

When I first played the game I went to work without fail on all of the days until my wife died. Until my wife killed herself. It was a wake-up call for my little digital self to put emphasis on what I should value most in the game; family. 

On the second to last day I spent my daughter's few hours with her in the park.

On the last day I died alone in the park.

It was humbling,

and at first I regretted my choices, but in retrospect I don't regret anything other than I wish I had not died alone.

But what is the point of this game? It is to make me feel hecka sad because it totally accomplished that.

Personally, what I got out of the game is that you can't regret your choices in life because no matter what you do things that you aren't happy about are going to happen. 

In the "good" ending where you save yourself and your daughter your wife still dies and the only way to achieve this is to go to work every single day without fail. Doesn't something about that seem kinda wrong? I could have consoled my wife and she wouldn't have died alone, angry, and feeling unloved. 

Would I have felt more fulfilled if I had achieved the good ending?

Maybe life is less about the ending and more about what happens during it. So what if I didn't  make it into varsity show choir my junior year; I had a fantastic past two years anyways.

So what if I didn't achieve the goals I first made; I'm happier now that I've changed them.

You've gotta be flexible and you've gotta be willing to roll with the punches and regret nothing. Just because you don't get the best ending doesn't mean that your life wasn't worthwhile.

No matter what ending you get in the game, the choices you made result in rewarding outcomes in accordance with your values. Those who choose to stay home with their family can hold onto the fact that they spent that time with them. Those who valued work can be rewarded that they found the cure. Those who spent their last moments with their daughter can be proud that, despite the hardships, they made  up for their regretful choices.

There is give and take no matter the outcome.

Hospice by The Antlers part 2

I don't like being poetic, but I can't help but feel that way about this subject.

It's weird how things tend to take a grand emotional toll on you even though you have nothing to do with it. Watching sad movies or reading sad books, all in all we are very emotional people. When forming a connection with a story that is not your own, it often is a slippery slope that we lead.

Often these outlets are fantastic at times, we feel happy for our favorite characters when they are happy, and we can share these feelings with others too- those who also feel this way about these characters; and so we find fandoms. Groups of people coming together just to discuss these fictional or real people that we hold so dear to us.

Yet, despite my dear attachment to this album and the emotions and characters portrayed within it- I just can't bring myself to write any more about it.

I don't know if it's a lack of enthusiasm, or the sheer quantity of negative emotions that this album digs up for me. It's so depressing; yet I can't help but explore and wallow in the negativity that it portrayed. I am infatuated by the ideals, emotions, and concepts presented in these simple eleven songs.

Eleven songs that ruined my life.

I'm not going to lie when I say that my first wave of obsession with this dismal album caused me to relapse into a horrible depression as I became so entranced with the notes and theories I held in my shaking hands.

It's a slippery slope; obsession and understanding.

I don't know why this particular object entranced me so much. It could have been anything else- a band, or a movie, or a tv show, or a comic book series, but instead it was this. Almost as if it is my soulmate. And what a horrible and cruel irony it is to have this album as my soulmate.

I understand that the feelings that I find within these songs are probably unique to me alone, but I still wish that I could portray my emotions on this album justly. 

Perhaps, do you feel the same way about something?




That one thing that no matter what- you can't get anyone else to understand just how much it means to you. The impact it has on your life to the point where it obsessed your waking and sleeping moments.



Is it a person?




A place?

Or maybe it's just a concept that you've yet to put to words and hope that you never will- because you know that it's impossible.

Either way- tell me about it. Whisper it to the winds and let everyone know what it is that you connect to. It will change as you age- I promise, but it will always be just as special as the moment you first found it.

This, my friends, is love.

Hospice by The Antlers

Let's talk about Hospice by The Antlers

If you're a music fanatic you'll know that there exist albums in this wide wide world that cannot be listened to

A) out of order

B) in bits and pieces

C) without giving it your full and undying attention

This, my friends, is one of those albums. I would suggest treating it as one really long song, and make sure you read the lyrics as you go because it will help you understand why this album is a fantastic work of art. 

Starting from the beginning, this album is a story. It's about three people. The wife, Sylvia, who has and has had bone cancer. The husband, I call him Peter sense the write of the album is Peter Silberman and this album is a commentary on his life in an emotionally abusive relationship. The nurse, the doctor, his role is really unclear but we do know that he and Peter know eachother and he works for the hospital. In my opinion, the nurse is also a metaphorical version of the husband, but perhaps really still the same person.

The album begins with an instrumental piece titled "Prologue". It's a mix of ambient tones and what seems to be the sound of a ventilator. In my mind this song is the last days of Sylvia's life, as she is put on life support and Peter and the nurse recollect the events that have occurred in the past. To be honest, this is a bone-chilling start to the album, setting the morbid and demure tone. I often find myself drifting to sleep to this song as its ebbs and flows rock the mind into a lull. It's hair-raising but calming at the same time. Like the moment right after a tragedy where you think "This is all just a dream" but you're terrified and can't feel anything.

Kettering is placed in the perspective of the nurse character. I believe this where our story begins with Sylvia being angry- as she so often is- and blaming it on the nurse. He owes her a great, unpayable debt and that debt is her life. That he is the figure she views as medicine that has failed her, her body that has failed her. She is broken and angry and the nurse finds this shocking; as most would expect hospice patients to be calm or sad. And in this anger the nurse makes it his priority to help her and save her- but as so many things are, these efforts are futile.

Oh, Sylvia. This song reiterates the emotional trauma that Sylvia put the nurse through. She was angry and mad but he didn't give up because he wanted to save her. He's scared of her and scared of what will happen to her, but mostly scared of what will happen when she gives up. Just reading the lyrics, wow, it's scary.

Atrophy speak of the relationship between Sylvia and Peter, husband and wife. It speaks of all the things Sylvia tells Peter to do, and he does them without question because he has no other choice. She gets mad at him, but he always comes back to her because no one else will. They're both so so alone and they're both falling apart and its eachother's fault, but they only have eachother.

Fuck Bear, fuck fuck fuck fuck this song so much ugh it breaks my heart. This song is a horrible irony of a lullaby. It takes place in a flashback, Peter recollecting the past. When they first became married and Sylvia was pregnant. They both don't mind having a kid, but they know that if they would it would tear them apart- the two of them. So together the decide to get an abortion, turning a blind eye to the real problems, and when Sylvia returns from the hospital after the abortion, she is never the same. They are never the same.

Thirteen takes us back to the present with Sylvia. Her thoughts and her words. She wants Peter to save her but she can't save herself. She wants him to dig her out of the hole she's in but ends up burring them both into this hole in the process. The chimes and the ambient music is haunting; almost as if we are never meant to hear what she tells us. It is lost in the space among the white noise.


Okay so I'm gonna have to finish this in another blog post because I need to take a break from writing this but I also need to submit this post. It's like digging into a can of worms; talking about this album. It's so emotional.