"On Grief." may be written soon enough, but till then...

I never knew her story.

Only the ending, really,

But the genre?

It was a Tragedy.

A plot twist, it seemed,

And only God knows the author.

In honesty I don't know how to start this blogpost, and I thought writing that verse that came to me today, as I drove down Old Hope Road, would be that which was needed to push the boulder over the cliff as far as the writing is concerned, but yet, still nothing. So I think it will be sufficient to say, I'm still in shock. 

Yesterday, someone I've basically known my entire life, a peer, and I daresay, a friend, died. And I haven't gotten through the shock of it yet. I haven't yet dealt with this, or started to, or decided whether or not it's something I have to deal with. I haven't gone back on social media because there are too many reminders and every time I see one, or someone mentions the crash it hits me again like I just heard it for the first time. Writing this I don't think I can really call it "On Grief" because I'm not grieving, I'm in shock. 

I guess, I have nothing else to say. I don't know enough about her to close with some poetic eulogy-esque statements, and my thoughts are still going nowhere. So I guess all I can do is offer my condolences to family, friends and all who saw it fit to grieve for both the deceased. But it feels weird that all that I can do for the one who I've known my whole life is the same I can do for the one I never knew.

Rest In Peace, Danielle.

-Me

On Many Things...

I like starting post titles with "On", makes it sound very purposeful, and if there is anything I generally don't have but love to pretend I have is "purpose". So in this, my first blogpost (on either blog) since probably Jesus' first coming (or my birthday... whichever came last), I'll be talking about a lot of things... It may be long, I don't know, I have 1 hour and 13 mins from now so, let's go.

On Distance
Distance Sucks, and (as I'm accustomed to saying) not in a good way. 
I wish that's all I had to say about this, I really do. The  FairyTale and I have been going on for 8 months now, and of that 8 we have been apart for 3, almost 4, months.

Been sighing on constant.

Loneliness is to me what iron is to a magnet. I'll become lonely at the drop of a hat, fuck, I can even produce my one loneliness for the sole purpose of torturing myself. It's a gift, a curse, a lifestyle. This poses a problem because as I've said in a previous post I have what I call abandonment anxiety. Now distance has the most annoying tendency of being like abandonment but obviously not abandonment. If you've ever had any form of anxiety, then you would be aware that in cases where your anxiety condition are unclear, the anxiety just acts defensively and runs with it anyways, i.e. without distraction I'm always on sad puppy mode.
I've sought many distractions since coming to university (parties(which I need alcohol to enjoy), people, clubs, hall activities,games) Now, since situations are never allowed to be simple in this life, the more distractions I seek, the worse a boyfriend I am, which gives me more reason to go on an anxiety trip...
And I know I talk about myself a lot, here on impulseprose (quite frankly that's the purpose... plus I don't need permission to talk about myself without personal repercussion) but I think I'll suffice to say it it's difficult for me I'd say FairyTale has it orders of magnitude worse. Sigh


On School
School, so far, hasn't been what I've expected. Not in a surprising way, and not in an underwhelming or overwhelming way, I just never expected it to be like this. This isn't something I can explain so far, and I don't know what exactly  I was expecting. Maybe I expected it to be more difficult? But I know soon I'll be cursing to myself for that when It becomes even more difficult than I expected.
One thing I do know is that I've sucked so far with my independence. My money management sucks, I'm not eating properly, or sleeping properly... I feel I'm running myself into the ground, even before I'm being particularly challenged. Which is worrying in many ways. However, I've survived almost through a whole semester without major incident, which I think is more than I would expect of myself. I hear from reputable sources that I'm now more confident and outgoing than I was before (though I can't say I see it ) and I must say I'm like less likely to "dead a road" than I was 3 months ago. I've apparently been topping my Japanese class and going through my major pretty smoothly... So, all considered,I'll say I haven't been too bad.

My time has expired unfortunately, so eventually I may do an "On Many Other Things..." unless I start studying, since "The Tent" is up and I've been told by my sempai that once the tent goes up I should panic...

Signing out.
Me

Birthdays and Hypocrisy

Well, I haven't visited impulseprose in a while, but don't worry, I'm still writing. I'll probably make a prose section on Dark Colours and Silent Music since I've been doing a bit of story-writing thanks to The UWI Writers' Circle. Also, I've been busy. University, it seems, is a full time occupation.

So I will be gracing the pages of impulseprose with this post because, as the title or facebook might tell you, it's my birthday... and I've been led to believe that I'm either actually a hypocrite or I'm developing a mild case of multiple personality disorder... Put it this way: I'm of two minds concerning this whole birthday thing.

So as it goes, I was born, and birth in itself is miraculous in the sense that it's extremely normal for an occurrence of its magnitude; the entering of a new life into the world and all that. So birth is miraculous, I believe. Me being born is of course something I'm eternally grateful for, but I don't see the need to commemorate it on a yearly basis. Giving thanks for life is like a daily thing , that to me is more important than like celebrating it... So one mind would want the whole thing to just pass without me or anyone else even realising it did.

I pretty much thought this was my outlook on the whole matter of birthdays. I mean I even had this conversation with a certain kouhai about it while I was under the hands of the Almighty Gunya...

And then remembering one's birthday isn't really a feat anymore. Facebook is a major culprit here. But guys, Google tells us happy birthday now.

I know more about you than you dare to know about yourself. 

So just the hypocrisy of "politeness" of telling people you care nothing about "Happy Birthday!" gets to me, especially on the scale that it happens nowadays. I for one atleast try to tell people Happy Birthday face-to-face or in a more personal way than a facebook wall post or whatsapp group message.

But here's what gets to me. Last night I was expecting the flood, and come this morning there as little to nothing. Most of those closest to me and some others expressed their wishes and otherwise the world went on. This is what I wanted right? I guess... Yet, I still felt (and feel) saddened by it.

Be careful what you wish for...

So, maybe after all my talk I'm just being a hypocrite. Maybe I do care about birthdays. Maybe there is more to this all than just another thing to remember and celebrate. Maybe our birthday is inconsequential, but no one wants to feel that way. Maybe the "politeness" is more important than I give it credit for. 

Maybe. 

If anything, it's not too late to celebrate my day, right?

Still contemplating,

-Me

I Am Prestonite Lace for...

I am unapologetic for my abandonment of writing during the orientation period which would have been the perfect time because it was so full of things to transcribe it's ridiculous.  I must say that orientation was too much fun... It literally sickened me. However, since you may not have realised, I'm not going to be talking about orientation because I'm not a Presser anymore. I'm a Prestonite.

As usual I started writing this because of good ol' mandevillgirl, really, even though we haven't talked much since we came here I can't forget how much she supports my writing; and whenever she writes I say "fuck it" and put finger to keyboard. I should talk to her more... In retrospect I should talk to a lot of people more. In fact if my life and persona were a literary work my general suckishness at communication with people would be among the foremost themes. However, I will talk about that soon enough.

As usual: It's a long post. You have been warned.

In my first two weeks of being a Prestonite I have learnt a few things about myself and people. I could say "I am Prestonite Lace for I..."

1. "...realise that left to my own devices I will have little regard for my own general welfare."
        Since coming here I'm sure I've eaten less than a handful of actual "meals". I am, as I write this, pretty hungry; however I'm going to finish this. Then I'm going to probably read some stuff, or write some code, or walk around my hall looking for people... you get the idea. Contrary to popular (and my original) belief, this horrendous behaviour has almost nothing to do with the fact that I can't cook. Knowing myself, if I genuinely acknowledged my own physical welfare as important I would fucking find a way to eat... learn to cook via trial and error if necessary. Acquiring skills isn't a problem for me. So obviously, the problem must be that deep down I really don't care about myself: physically at least, and honestly I never really ate when people were cooking for me either. So hopefully I don't starve. I will keep you posted on this...

2." ....now recognise the root of my propensity for the feeling of loneliness."
       Loneliness is a thing I do to myself. I have however, through self reflection and observation, isolated three preconditions for my personal brand of loneliness. Firstly, I fluctuate internally between the states of wanting to be alone and wanting to be with people: generally however people> myself, given that people are such that they are cool, where cool equates to being fun/easy to be around. (haha... there is mathematical notation for that sentence. I won't share it since I actually want people to continue reading my blog.) So the first precondition is that I currently would prefer to be around people.
      The second is a constant. I like people. Though tied with the first precondition, the major difference is that this is a constant, that is a variable (loool more math, well, computer science math. but I'm really working hard for them reader losses) This impacts my behaviour, for example, I have developed the habit of walking around Preston Hall aimlessly at night, moving towards every group of people I see. These two preconditions are why I'm, for the most part, a very friendly person who generally has at least acquaintances wherever I go. Also, on a bit of a tangent, I believe I care for other's well-being more than my own, encapsulated in the fact that I ask other people if they have eaten.
       Finally, the key that opens the corned beef: my good ol' friend, abandonment anxiety. Though it may not be abandonment anxiety really, it's related to it, and I've already introduced the idea of my own anxiety on this blog, so it's easy to relate it to this. Long story short: I'm afraid that people don't actually enjoy my company (this must be some form or paranoia) Like all fears and anxieties this is self validating. What complicates the matter is that, in most cases, I have no way of knowing whether or not I'm right. This leads to strange behaviour like leaving a group of people I'm currently with to go somewhere else because I feel I've somehow "overstayed my welcome".
       So given that my love of people is constant, I currently want to be around people, and I have somehow validated and acted on my social abandonment anxiety, I will feel excessively lonely and particularly shitty.

3. "... found out that awesome people are awesome"
        I love my hall for this very reason. The people here are fucking amazing. (I believe at some point this can be a pun when I start inadvertently hearing (of)other's sexual relations.) Other than being talented and intelligent and amazing, some people here genuinely care about my well-being... I don't even know how to start talking about this. So I probably wont. However, to validate the point of their amazing-ness I'll say that I went to the Writer's Circle yesterday and my favourite person in the group so far just happened to be an off-campus Prestonite (well, a commuter who's affiliated with the hall by registration) These people be cool. (see 2. above)

4."... discovered that rum is the nectar of the gods"
       I went to Fresher's Fete. I drank about 10 cups of mixed drinks containing Coco Mania (coconut rum), white rum, and rum.(I literally at one point said to the bartender "Rum and anything") I came back from Fresher's Fete around 2:30.  I ended up in several hilarious conversations (with our former"Super Seniors" and "Super Senior Sergeants") and went to bed at around 4:30. I woke up at 6:30 fresher than spring water. I believe in Rum.

5."... see that changing to Computer Science has been the best life decision I've made since FairyTale"
      The immense joy I feel when I realise I don't have to do labs. Or get up for 8:00 classes. Or do labs. I don't know how to explain it. I thought it could be put into words if I was writing but no... It's almost religious. I just know I would've been miserable, even at this early stage, had I continued on the path of a medicine or life science student. In truth the title says it all.

6."... admit that communication is a thing... That I should do... Good-er. "
     I'm tired of promising people that I'll treat them better. From Signature (I just decided to refer to the girl in "The Letter I Signed" as Signature), to my parents, to a new person to you all who I will refer to as Pink, to my friends in Mandeville and even those here (like the aforementioned mandevillegirl) I should try better to keep in touch with them, because they all mean a lot to me and it doesn't seem that way by the way I treat them. If you read this and you belong to any of the aforementioned groups or others I've forgotten to mention: I'm sorry. But then, I'm always sorry.

That's all I can think about for now, however there is no doubt in my mind that there are tonnes of discoveries left to be made here: and you'll be sure to hear about almost all of them. Till then: "I am Prestonite Lace..." 

Tying up this blogpost,
-Me

On Masculinity: Attachment

You are not on drugs. This is legitimately happening. I'm writing the second blog post in two days. I understand if your panties can't handle it. Please, if you know you may need some time go and take a breather before you read any further. It'll be here when you get back. Promise.

We'll be back after this brief intermission

And we're back. Thanks for staying with us here at impulseprose as we continue On Masculinity. Today I'll be talking about attachment. As usual my thoughts aren't based on any proven facts and I may be dead wrong. This may be lengthy, you have been warned. Enjoy. 

So yesterday (this still feels weird) I spoke about masculinity in general and some implications of society's approach to the socialisation of boys into men, and some of the personal effects on me. However, to be honest, that wasn't the plan going into the blog post, it just kind of became that. Originally the post was titled: On Masculinity, Attachment and anything else that comes to mind. So this will be the Attachment portion.

But we must still go deeper. I was spurred to write the blogpost mainly because (Pathetic in...3...2...1...) I hadn't spoken to (our beloved) Fairytale in a mind-boggling 4 hours at the time. Not giving you much more background to that. It raised the whole matter of how powerful my attachments tend to be, and basically how much abandonment anxiety I have. Now, with the idea of masculinity I outlined yesterday, all I have to say is this isn't a part of my "me I can look at without shame or disappointment".

I believe this is one of those emotional shortcomings we males tend to have. I personally have some degree of abandonment anxiety, I'm not saying that's a male thing. But problems regarding attachment seem to be a male thing.

You see, we humans are social beings. Our brains are so big because social-ness takes up a shit tonne of space, processing power and complex systems. Complex communication, empathy, morals, that urge we have to "fit in"... all of these things are grounded in the brains pre-occupation with making this social thing work (believe me, it is. Whether you think so or not.) One of those mechanisms is, of course, attachment.

Think about it. What's an easy way to, let's say, ensure parent humans actually expend effort to ensure their offspring humans are fed, when they don't actually benefit directly from doing so? Well, of course you can create a social system where that's a social norm, so to ensure they aren't ostracized by their local humans who all feed their offspring humans they do it too. That may work. OR You can automatically assign value and importance to the offspring humans by forming an emotional bond to that offspring human, thus being compelled to feed them because if you don't your precious offspring human will die. While both of these are probably factors, the latter will most likely be the deciding one. I mean if only the former was present a lot more offspring humans would die. And attachment has many more uses. Like keeping relationships together. Because relationships are the basis of making that social thing work on the individual level.

Now back to attachment and masculinity. We teach males a lot about detachment. A man shouldn't show his emotions (Fun fact: Left unchecked emotions can be seen and read. These served social purposes.) A man should be independent. A man should be "strong". This whole thing just teaches boys detachment., so we know how to do that shit by time we're all grown up. However, the brain does attachment anyways. So we have friends, not too emotionally taxing most of the time, so we're good (generally). But the more emotionally demanding the attachment is the less we seem to be able to cope.

So personally, due somehow to how I grew up, I have abandonment anxiety. I don't have a problem with being alone per se. I do, however, have a problem being left alone. Specifically by those I'm attached to Now I can't say I understand why, but I make attachments faster than I make empty bags of crackers. It's not something I would recommend. Easily Attached + Abandonment Anxiety is one hell of a party. This is basically how it goes. Let's say we are friends (haha... only my friends read this anyways) and we're having a conversation via text or whatsapp or (God forbid) Twitter DMs, and you suddenly disappear (and by disappear I mean not reply for like... 5 mins) I panic. Usually I blame your disappearance on myself ("shit, I shouldn't have said that","ugh, it's because I'm boring") and sending a message a reasonable time later with my unsure face ("hey :x"), like a little puppy who's not really sure if he's okay with you right now. Sounds fun right?

Life's a non-stop party

So what about other men? What attachment issues do they have? I can't be sure, as I don't actually interact with my fellow guys particularly often. But let's see.
The Possessive Guy may be equating attachment with possession/ownership.
The Needy Guy may see attachment as an emotional outlet.
The Detached Guy may see attachment as a sign of weakness.
The Clingy Guy may equate (the object of) attachment with self-worth. (I think I'm somewhere here... Fairytale disagrees)

By no means an exhaustive list. But these are a few possible correlations between these common complaints (I have a lot of female friends) and possible flawed attachment philosophies.

I said attachment problems are a male thing. Well, honestly, it's (like everything else) a human thing. But the differences between sexes are not to be downplayed. Society affects both differently, and the factors which contribute to the male problems may not be contributing factors to female problems and vice versa.

I may have another On Masculinity blog post left. That's not a tomorrow thing though. But, till then:

-Me

On Masculinity

I'm honestly not apologising for not writing, except to myself. Not writing is probably the worst thing I could've done for my writing. So I apologise to you, me, for the negligence I have shown to you and your various talents. I've been tired, me. However I will endeavour to do better. For you, and me. For Us.

This may be quite lengthy. You have been warned. Enjoy.

Who, or what, is a Man? 

We now live in a world where gender and sex are:

1. No longer the same thing.
2. Complicated.

To illustrate this Facebook now has 58 gender options... don't believe me? I'll list them... well the 56 except the two you're probably more familiar with.

1. Agender
2. Androgyne
3. Androgynous
4. Bigender
5. Cis
6. Cisgender
7. Cis Female
8. Cis Male
9. Cis Man
10. Cis Woman
11. Cisgender Female
12. Cisgender Male
13. Cisgender Man
14. Cisgender Woman
15. Female to Male
16. FTM
17. Gender Fluid
18. Gender Nonconforming
19. Gender Questioning
20. Gender Variant
21. Genderqueer
22. Intersex
23. Male to Female
24. MTF
25. Neither
26. Neutrois
27. Non-binary
28. Other
29. Pangender
30. Trans
31. Trans*
32. Trans Female
33. Trans* Female
34. Trans Male
35. Trans* Male
36. Trans Man
37. Trans* Man
38. Trans Person
39. Trans* Person
40. Trans Woman
41. Trans* Woman
42. Transfeminine
43. Transgender
44. Transgender Female
45. Transgender Male
46. Transgender Man
47. Transgender Person
48. Transgender Woman
49. Transmasculine
50. Transsexual
51. Transsexual Female
52. Transsexual Male
53. Transsexual Man
54. Transsexual Person
55. Transsexual Woman
56. Two-Spirit

So. I wont be going into that any more. If you're interested in their meanings then go here. You can probably see how this complicates things. I mean, back in the good ol' Male-Female binary days people still pretty much still couldn't really figure out what it really meant to be male or female, or if it meant anything. Now we have options, and options ain't ever hurt nobody right? Wrong.  You've now taken a complicated concept and made it impossible. 

Accurate. 

So now, with that as background, my original question. "Who, or what, is a man?"

My concept of "masculinity" really isn't a concrete one. It's so abstract, that I struggle now even to grasp it and arrange letters to give it substance (though I will try anyways).  I asked a certain mandevillegirl her thoughts (because her thoughts are usually stellar and different from mine but when our thought's coincide I know something is right.) and two points are exactly what I had trouble trying to put into words (which she did beautifully in my humble opinion)

The socialisation of men as cold, emotionless creatures which has somehow done our boys a great injustice of stripping them of their ability to sympathise, emphathise, feel anything at all. We as a society has failed our men by teaching them that the absence of emotion greatly adds to their value. Instead of teaching our boys how to hug and cry and say 'I love you', we have fed their egos... and worse, taught them that their masculinity is in any way related to sex... We have socialised our sons to be incompatible with our daughters.

This is one of those crucial points. I have lived the conflict between being emotional as hell and being "male". It does wonders for your self-esteem when the natural picker-upper for a crying boy-child is "be a man". Believe me. I can honestly say that this has led directly to all of my problems with not only my emotions but with those of others. Emotions are scary. You either learn to deal with them or you try to bury them and face the occasional explosion or break down (I've faced both, neither is pleasant). 

 If we are raising our sons to be the protectors, the providers and the partners for our daughters, why are our daughters having to step up and "grow a pair" (forgive me) and provide for and protect themselves? Where are the men? Why have they turned into the very persons our daughters seem to need protection from? 

Again, crucial. But, I have realised that a lot of society's concept of masculinity, funnily enough, has to do with women. I personally have a strong bias towards women (even to those I don't want to have sex with! *gasp*) It is funny because as women grow more and more independent of men they have a worse and worse reception of male kindness (though a good cross-section of male-kind seem to think that kindness should be repaid in sex or kind... ). While society's ideal places men as protectors, in practice it has put males and females into groups Hunter and Hunted respectively.  This isn't good for either group. 

But like everything else, I don't believe in there being a rigid structure to the concept of "masculine". It's not a thing that comes with a checklist or textbook definition. As a male (Cis-Male? Trans-Male? Male-to-Female? Female-to-Male?) you basically have to make your own masculinity. You have to take the you you were given an mould it into the you you can can look at without shame or disappointment and that will be your "masculinity". (I said a lot of nothing in this paragraph)

I have this kind of, unspecific view because I think a problem males and people in general have is that the pursuit of society's "masculinity" or "femininity" or any"nity" is void of any real awareness of self. With all of the confusion, it's no wonder we have >50 genders really. I mean if you don't see yourself as fitting society's mould of a male/female then you are probably going to define yourself as something outside of that male-female binary. 

It seems inevitable that the generations that follow us will drift outside of the gender binary we grew up in (I look forward to the new public bathroom schemes), and as we march into that future it will become even more important for us to know and understand ourselves in that regard. 

Female, Male, Fabulous

(I had intended to write more, but this ended up being longer than I planned. So I'll follow up this post. Soon. Like Tomorrow. I hope.) 

-Me. 

PS.  I actually delivered. Part 2

Friends, "Summer" and why all of my Plans are, indeed, Mythical.

So I graduate (again) in 3 days, and that has nothing to do with my complete abandonment of my blogs and whatever audience I have (are those crickets I hear?). It has however brought to the fore a question that I never thought I would have problems with. It also has everything to do with what I will face this upcoming "summer", and by extension the work of mythology which seem to be my plans. These and more may be brought to you in the most wordy, round-about, and me-ish way I can manage in the following paragraphs.

"Who are my friends now?" 

I've been at this institution for 7 years, admittedly much of those were the best years of my life. They could be said to be the best years of my life not because of the institution's propensity to generate good times, but because of people. People. Many of which I would love to call my friends. So, I have many friends, I think. Yet, I doubt.

I doubt because, well, I've been somewhat a loner this year. I feel as if I've gone through this year with almost the minimum requirement of interaction with my year group. I can't quite explain it, but for some reason, entering this my ultimate year, I just never belonged... or at least I never felt like I did. This, of course, is probably a byproduct of my adolescence in that my predominant "crisis" is the struggle between the need to stand out and the need to fit in, "Identity vs Role Confusion" as Erik Erikson would put it.

It came up, you see, as I asked myself whether or not I should go to graduation dinner (which I didn't). The more I tried to think about whether or not it was worth it, the more I felt a looming "loneliness". It was as if that is how I've become accustomed to feeling within my own graduating class. Lonely. I'm still not sure if I made a correct decision here as even a certain mandevillegirl seemed to have enjoyed herself, with "good company". But then she, and most people, seem to have the privilege of knowing who her friends are. People like that, more often than not, find good company.

Now don't get me wrong, for the most part I do know my friends... but there are times I feel like an outsider looking in; or in extreme cases, an intruder. And before the movements of my previously concrete "group" of friends in the general direction of "away" there was more a feeling of belonging. I know what friendship feels like, and this entire year that feeling has been a bit too scarce.

"Summer(?)"

I start working the day after graduation. "Work" as in actual paid labour, for an employer, on a consistent basis, is something I have NEVER done (yup, I'm a bum... sad, but true) I'm not dreading it or anything, just saying. Now as someone who does external examinations, technically my Summer started from the 14th of June. However between graduation practice and prefect responsibilities it hasn't felt like Summer... except the heat. So with that in mind, neither will working daily from 7:00am... So I ask the pseudo-philosophical question: If it looks like Summer, feels like Summer and sounds like Summer but doesn't feel like Summer, then is it Summer? 

Yes. 

This Summer is different, you see. With this Summer officially ends my career as a high school student. Well.. Sunday being graduation actually ends my career as a high school student... but I wont feel like a university student till I don my ID, trod across the campus with more sq. mileage than my town, and sit in my first hopeless class. 

So it is Summer. Just of a different kind. I believe life will change after this, so the build up can be a bit different as well. 

"I am to Plans as Homer is to The Odyssey"

I have come to the realization that if I want to do something I better not plan to. It sounds sad. It is. As you may remember, I had a good amount of stellar plans for my undertaking this Summer. If you don't then take a look-see (noting that "Where is Mellisa?" has passed, and adding "A Heritage Story" to the list of plays I need to write). So therefore "The Death of a Don", "A Heritage Story" and even preparation for the yet unnamed writing BLOG blog have yet to even begin to be things that I am actually doing this summer. 

Alongside this fact, it has been proven again and again with Fairytale that whatever I plan doesn't happen. End of Story. So basically I'm filling my head with works of mythology, fallacy... lies?. I hope not, and I don't exactly plan to, but somehow I'm gonna get to those things. 

So basically, as usual, my problems are minute and generally don't concern anyone else, and pale in comparison to the actual physical, psychological and real woes faced by even my peers... but then It wouldn't be impulseprose without that would it? 

Continuing to ask the real (unimportant) questions,

-Me

It's About Time

I haven't written in a while... Well I tried a few days ago, and that didn't go well. And with my track record a poem in drafts might as well be deleted. I liked the idea though and I may try again. Anyways, I don't remember how I usually start impulseprose blogposts and I think I need to make a standard opening like a mandevillegirl I know. Or not... meh.

I don't really have a theme or idea for this post. Though I hope as I write I fall into some deep quasi-philosophical and almost poetic musing as to some meaning or understanding of time. I mean, that is what I do. Isn't it? Or share some Summer plans with my handful of readers across like 2 or 3 parishes (which actually might be a problem with at least one of my Summer plans). Or write about everything I've wanted to write about all of last month, but didn't... for some reason that I'm not quite *cough *exams*cough* sure about. Well, in hindsight let's not do the latter, that sounds like a long, long post, or a short one; depending on my memory. So I'm still pretty undecided as to the subject of this post. So it will be a strange ride from here on.

Talking about indecision: that, I have decided, is my most definitive trait. (Excuse the irony of that sentence) I mean I have been described as many things, and the only thing I know myself to be 100% of the time is indecisive. I get around it by not being picky most of the time, so I can function. Since most daily decisions are basically inconsequential in my opinion.
"What are yo gonna eat for breakfast?" umm idk.. I'll just skip breakfast I guess.
"Where are we going?" haha, when you know me long enough, you don't ask questions like that. "When are you going to actually talk to your mother about you suddenly changing your career path in the last part of the last year of high school and which university are you going to go to in order to pursue this goal and..." ... 
You can see where that sort of attitude can fall apart when the consequences of not choosing isn't minor discomfort a few minutes before lunch or aimless walking... I believe that if there is anything which will be detrimental to me in the so called "real world" (though I pretty much know that we are in the "real world"... adulthood isn't a door into a different kaleidoscope from the one us kids look through... same world, different stakes I guess) it will be my indecisiveness. I should work on that.

So yeah. I'm currently I'm on the verge of Summer. Two exams left, that I've technically studied for already. I spent most of my last 3 days watching movies. (I strongly recommend The Grand Budapest Hotel to anyone who doesn't consider a good fight scene the making of a movie) And like ever Summer it stats with two things. Me forgetting to get a job and my parents' anniversary. The former is saddening but not particularly interesting, so let's discuss the latter.

My parents have been married for 25 years today. 25 years. That is a very impressive milestone, so firstly, I congratulate them. It dawned on me a few minutes ago that to my knowledge I don't have many friends who's parent are both married and have been married longer than their children have been alive. That says something. Marriage seems to be a dying institution, well, at least lasting marriage does, and this makes 25 years hella impressive. So this Saturday they will be celebrating with a renewal of vows (for which I will unfortunately have to see my barber...) and being the endest/only Son I'm going to have to deliver a toast... and for once I know what I'm going to say.

Greatly dwarfed by the gargantuan quarter of a century, this coming Sunday I will be in a relationship myself for a quarter of a year.... haha... Hear, Hear.

This coming summer is intrinsically special, I guess. By the end of it I'll be moving out of my parent's house... in a way. I'll be dependent on them in a few way's still but not in many that I've been up to this point. Definitely one of those milestones I guess, though I'm still unsure what after-summer will bring. Or what during-summer will bring. I have plans, but my plans are generally about as good as my decision making, so you can see why I may be a bit worried.

At least I know my during and after Summer hairstyle... which is basically uncut. So I look forward to breaking more combs

So yes, I've written a blog post about  nothing in particular, and It's about time I closed it.
-Me

As April Winds Down

I will start by saying this has been my best month, much less April, in recent memory. Of course school still sucks, but I've come to the conclusion that upon entering upper sixth form you are destined to yearn for nothing more that being finished with high school. High school, as we all might have realised, is bullshit; each school is just a different bull. Otherwise, however life has been grand.

Now some context:

It's currently 5:31 am on a Saturday. I am awake and writing at 5:31 on a Saturday. Early to bed, early to rise... would have been applicable if I hadn't woken up before 3:00 and gone to bed after 11:00 (which admittedly is regarded as early for me) So why am I up? I have no idea.

I'm writing however because I have had so many things to write about this month that I just haven't written, which is of course a horrible train of thought and course of action. So I'm taking the time out to mitigate that and try out the words once more. In all honesty, the only thing I've written this entire month is Synesthesia, Fairytale's fist official poem. (A little bit on what actual Synesthesia is... for context.) Though as I think about it, I've spent so many hours doing internal assessments this month I probably shouldn't be so hard on myself. Anyways, I'm rambling...

As April winds down I (and for most of the readers I know.... we) enter into our exam period. My first exam is the week after next (it's still Saturday, it is not next week yet) and as much as I am a firm believer in #FuckCarib, I intend to pass it, might even try to pass it well, though I haven't even started studying for that yet. But the exam period is a special time for me. It is both my least and most productive time of the year. I assure you there is no idleness like exam-time idleness, and I've set the bar for idleness extraordinarily high this year. Even so, there is no other time that I sit and re-write my own revised editions of textbooks, as between now and the time June comes around I'd have mostly written more notes than I have all year thus far.

As April winds down I'm still in a cute relationship. In my 18 years of existence I do not think I have been apart of something this cute and I was in the children's choir as a child. I don't understand it, she doesn't understand it... but it is what it is. In Fairytale's words "C'est la vie". However I've learnt that the happier I become the more cautious I should be. Time has repetitively shown that a Happy Michael is a Careless Michael, and I'm a science student, I'm taught not to ignore trends like this. So after a month, a week and four days I sit in the silence of early morning birdsong contemplating the L word...

As April winds down the beyond high school approaches. Oh how I look forward to graduating... or not graduating, whatever the case may be. However I remain in the dilemma of looking forward to a future I haven't exactly decided on yet. What exactly are you doing after Summer 2014, Michael? My father dumped some stuff on me yesterday: Jamaica/[insert country here] Bilateral scholarships. Cuba, Russia, China, OAS... and even this thing on Sweden. Now it may sound a bit late to be doing this but these opportunities are still open. It's a bit sad to say that going away to study has always been an experience I've looked forward to, even though I've made zero steps to achieve it, but now it seems daunting, and for what would be seen as a shitty reason. Whatever you do the future will meet you and in many ways you determine the nature of the meeting.

So basically, as April winds down the same matters that troubled me in March trouble me now, I just have 1 less month to contemplate the urgent ones. A friend of mine believes that if you refuse to reflect, you refuse the opportunity to grow... well, for all the reflection I do I seem to grow very little. Excuse my misuse of the french but C'est cannot be la vie...

-Me

"Ah fuck, April"

So it hit me today, and when I say hit I mean a sudden, painful and quite badly timed realisation, that April is upon me, or upon us. Now April is of significance for a few reasons. To most of us here in the Caribbean it's the month before all those good ol' external exams begin, when Internal Assessments are due and you realise you haven't started shit yet. That I am very much guilty of, every year... However for me it has a bit more personal significance... of the "why the fuck am I such a sentimental piece of shit" variety.

You see it started 4 fucking years ago... FOUR... April 7th, when a girl who wasn't my friend yet was killed by her father. I will go no further with that, except to say that I don't deserve to mourn for a girl who wasn't my friend yet if her friends have learnt to deal with her absence. I don't deserve to, yet every April, I somehow am propelled into this phase of pathetically sad bitchiness (or bitchy, pathetic sadness?) under the guise of mourning. Guise because it's selfish, just my relentless need for people and the thought that I lost one before I had the chance to gain her in the first place. Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

Then secondly, you remember a certain petite girl right? About yeah tall, small frame, I wrote several very bad poems after she left me, alongside a few rants on good ol' impulseprose? Yeah, her. Well she was a timing maestro, as if she had calculated the best time to pretty much wreck me. She abandoned me on Sunday, April 7, a day I stayed at home because I just couldn't deal hoping my Seventh Day Adventist girlfriend would be of some solace... and then she left me the day after. Something about me being boring and depressing. So yeah... that was a good 4 months... Thank God for Summer, Dempster and Fairytales.

But this post isn't to talk about those incidents. Because honestly they really aren't the real reason for this shitstorm that is my mood currently, and may continue to be my mood for a while. These things are basically what I call "excuses". They are events that validate, to some extent, my self destructive behaviour.

I have spoken about, in the past, the concept of an inner masochist. The deep need or want we apparently have to punish ourselves for things. ( I guess I can only talk for myself to be honest, so the "we" should be "I" and the "ourselves", "myself". ) I accelerate that urge. I find a reason, a correlation, an event, anything and I go to town on it.

Now I'm pretty sure it's evident that I do believe in Love... as a thing, that is important. However, a certain petite girl postulated that I am intrinsically incapable of expressing Love, whatever it is, because I (in her opinion) don't love myself. I couldn't answer at the time because I wasn't sure if I did, and I still don't know if I do.

And that scares me.

It scares me because I don't wan't to lie to someone I care about. Especially not about something that important. There are things I want to say and fucking mean it. It's the day after two weeks with Fairytale and 8 days from the apex of my excuses. And she has done nothing to deserve me in this shitstorm state. Because the strange thing about caring about someone is that you can't watch them suffer. So I'm not even just torturing myself... and then the circle of self loathing makes another turn.

In truth though, I'm glad I'm not soloing through this: couldn't ask for  better girlfriend right now.
-Me

March 15: Performance and Direction

So yesterday Where is Melissa? came to fruition. Quite frankly it shot passed faster than I could have imagined... I was surprised to find out the run time was almost 2 hours. That however is how these things are. Our perception of time is dependent on the amount of time we have perceived. I've gone through what? 3 months of Where Is Melissa? so what the hell is 2 hours in comparison?

However as a performance, I believe ii was stellar. There were mistakes, but we worked around them. We put out everything we had on that stage, and I do feel the urge to declare the Where Is Melissa? premier a massacre, 'cause we all killed it. However I'll have to wait till tomorrow for the director's words on that matter.

In productions like this however I cannot overlook the importance of performance and direction. Performers are the medium through which the idea trapped in a script or some guy's head will be released to the world. Their performance will determine the reception of these ideas. Without performers a play is just literature, and while literature has magnificence and power in itself, performance is the art of giving life to that power and magnificence, and plays are in a way one of the only literary forms which allow this without hindrance (we have all been disappointed by book-inspired movie at least once in our lives). Even more interesting is that quality performance depends as much on the literature as it does the performer. If a character is badly written, it doesn't matter how well you play him/her... he/she is still a bad character.

However there lies yet another mediation between script/idea and the world: direction. Performers, as good as they may be, need direction. I assure you that if a bunch of world class performers were given a script and told "act" you would get something ranging from shitty to decent. What you would not get however is excellence. Direction offers the possibility of excellence in performance. Through (good) direction the performers are molded and set, their understanding of their roles and characters is deepened and broadened., understanding of the performance space is improved. In the end, you have performers uniquely tuned for that specific performance. That is where excellence comes from...

Yesterday, I believe there was plenty of performing excellence, however the hand of the director cannot be overlooked.

So with that said, me and Fairytale are a thing now.

With Nocturnal Fervour
-Me

The Future: Near and Far

I'm writing here more regularly... I have no idea if that's particularly good. I mean I'm 100% sure I have more constructive things to do; but anyways. We have lengths of thought to cover.

I realize that I've reached the stage where thinking about the future is not only important, but it's importance is greatly highlighted and stressed. I have the tendency however not to contemplate the future at all. You see I have learnt to keep myself quite busy, so busy that everything is done on the basis of urgency instead of importance. Today, though, is a bit different. Today the future spoke to me a little bit. It informed me that I was accepted by UTECH for Computer Science.  Now like any acceptance letter recipient I was quite happy... but upon thinking about this and the decisions surrounding it I realized the potency of the choices ahead of me. In the process however it wasn't only the far future that I looked into but also the closer future.

So I shall start there:

It's the Final Week. Yes. Where Is Melissa? is THIS WEEK. I'm so excited? So exhilarated? Actually right now I'm mostly exhausted. As in, I've been tired before. Actually I've been tired for a very long time. However the exhaustion of this production is now at it's peak - I've been tired for like two weeks now. However, as it usually is when acting, it's the good tired. I know that there will be nothing in recent memory more satisfying than KILLING this show on Saturday; and I strongly believe the rest of the cast knows this as well. So I will ensure that every time I touch the stage on the coming night, there is a funeral to plan.

And Saturday isn't just about this production, which has consumed most of my energy and being over the past few weeks (or months?). It's also about everything this production has brought into my life... including dear Fairytale... This Saturday SHALL (and has to) be a day of fruition.

And just in case you haven't completely believed me about this whole production:

The Show Must Go On!

So why did this acceptance letter cause so much reflection? Well, as much as I love Comp. Sci. I am a science student for a reason: I have planned up to this point to be a doctor. Now while I love both somewhat equally, Medicine is admittedly a greater achievement, however not exactly a greater opportunity. In my eyes Comp. Sci. is everything. Medicine, Finance, Manufacturing, Industry... In some way or another those and more are all to some extent Computer Science. It's scope is endless. 

Then even though I've put a lot of energy into this whole Med aspiration the more I think about it the scarier and worse as an investment it sounds. Firstly it's 5 more years of school (not counting the years of internship) at a hefty price of $2.8million a year (well.. i can possibly get a huge subsidy that drops hat to $600,000... and I must if I actually pursue the course.) So 5 years of difficult, round the clock and calendar work. As in after the First Year, I would be looking at 1 week of Christmas and abut 3 weeks of summer... added to this is the fact that the time this course demands makes it nearly impossible to do much else. Which is in fact my greatest fear. I can no longer, after the past 7 years, attend a school and do solely "school". I simply can't and the thought of doing that for the next 5 years is terrifying.

So I really want to do med... but the more I think about it the more like a question it sounds... Do I really want to do med? 

I really can't answer that. But sooner or later I will have to. 

Walk Good,

-Me

  

Looking Up: Some Positivity for Once.

So my last post was pretty negative and the overarching situation still stands, however it's about time I brought some positive vybes to impulseprose, so I'm gonna try my best to focus on everything good that is happening and has happened in my life recently (in no particular order). Lets Go.

1. DRAMA CLUB WEDDING DID SHEEELLL!!!! I mean I was really surprised at how well we pulled it off with close to zero practice. All I can say is improvisation is a beautiful, beautiful thing. It wasn't perfect. We started late and the food sharing was grossly inefficient, and as a result we had no actual reception. However all in all it was a success, even financially (which is a thing we have struggled with in the past) So yeah, as I said, the club's failures are my failures and the club's successes are the club's successes, and Friday's Drama Club Wedding was definitely the club's success. (Photos will be posted, they will be hype)

2. "Jamaica Hour" was actually enjoyable. I mean that's wholly because of the brilliance of a certain Theatre Arts teacher, she is nothing short of a savant really. The choice of MC was stellar, the items (for the most part) were of uniquely high quality and offered both high cultural and entertainment value (I mean a little girl preached from the scriptures of Alligator Pond 1:1 to the end. I was in tears), there were a few (MANY) hiccups and as assistant stage manager I was doing more running up and down than enjoying the show, but in the end it was a program well done. Amazing what people can do even under such grave conditions.

3. Where Is Melissa? is nearing call time. We have exactly 13 days till production. I wont speak much on it; but the experience is still quite surreal. I mean its not all rainbows and sweet perfume, we have gotten a lot of "cuss out" and we are still not anywhere near where we need to be. But all the same I can see it. Yes. I. Fucking. See. It. And I sincerely hope everybody else sees it too, unless they will get discouraged, because what I see is pretty spectacular. D-Day: March 15th.

4. I haven't been to Carib or Physics class in like 2 weeks. I don't know if this is truly positive, but it definitely feels good.

5. I'm apparently a person of interest in my school biome? Though I doubt being roumored about makes one a person of interest but hey, a niggs can dream. So there's a certain former jailbait that came to my school this school year, and I guess we basically hit it off pretty immediately, we're pretty much alike, and worlds apart. I tend to be close to my female friends (physically and otherwise) and that increases to the extent of how close I'm safely allowed to go. The consequence of this? Everybody now swears we are a couple. Now I have no problem with this, it's a recurring theme in high school life the romantic speculation, the belief that apparently platonic relationships are either inferior to or just less interesting than romantic ones... It's all natural. The immaturity about it however is bordering hilarious. I'll watch where it goes.

6. Finally: Romantic Interest? So as you here at impulseprose should know from Introductions......  I suck at relationships (and not in the good way), and since this blog started pretty much in the wake of a dead one, ya'll are pretty much up-to-date with my life in that regard since then... specifically that my life has not had that regard since then. Or since about 3 weeks ago. Now I don't mention names here for several reasons, and since the last SO alias was "a certain petite girl" I shall now dub thee... "Fairytale"  (She will read this, she will get this... she will smile). So 3 weeks ago the fairy tale started when she asked for my number. Yes. I was the prey. NEVER IN MY LIFE HAVE I BEEN PREY (and if I understand correctly neither does she particularly hunt). There it began, and in the most bizarre growth of a relationship I've ever been apart of, 3 weeks later, having talked about everything from literature to equal oral sex rights and quite a few things in between I sit here calling her Fairytail. This is reckless as fuck, emotionally and I know I'm a sentimental so this will either actually put some life into me (which I need) or drain it all out. So it must be by magic that I know this and still look forward to taking the gamble.

So yeah, I guess my life isn't all New Tie problems and fuckery. I need to learn how to look up every now and then...

-Me

Old Tie Chronicles

I haven't written here in a long time -blah blah blah- introductory statements...

I sit here barefooted (I somehow lost my socks)and cross-legged in a corner in the Top Hall, surrounded by dancers and Major Lazer, once again truant (I do that more and more these days) pretty much in a generally crappy mood. You see I am now experiencing one of those moments when my tolerance of  this damn school is at a low. 

Now for some context.

Tomorrow is Jamaica Day... and the Drama Club Wedding. As the Drama Club president that makes the upcoming day one shitstorm of stress and responsibility. Naturally we are were going to do a play during the Jamaica Day celebrations. Yes. Were. You see I am now 100% certain that the school has decided to do everything wrong this year, and so instead of celebrating Jamaica Day we'll be having the Jamaica (almost) Hour, since they decided to limit the "celebration" to an hour... then request 15mins from that hour. Thus Leaving 45 mins for the CELEBRATION OF OUR CULTURE AND HERITAGE, because that must be all that it deserves... 

This pissed me off. It still pisses me off. And as a result of this hostility (I mean what else could it be?) towards it all, we (myself and those who were helping me plan and practice the play) decided that we wont be presenting that day. I really hate the decision for 2 reasons:

• I don't want to be remembered as the Drama Club president who never did anything for Jamaica Day. It sounds petty and probably it is, but I remember the president before me, and her inactivity, and how I hated the club that year (though probably still not as much as I hate it now...) But I don't want to be remembered as "that president". 
• This year was my idea year. Where Drama Club is concerned I have had my best ideas this year from The Death of a Don to the The Heritage Story. I as really proud of myself for coming up with these ideas and even my ability to visualize and script to some detail these ideas were things I was really excited about. However, none of them will come to fruition while I'm here. Hopefully it will be possible in later years, but I won't see them. That deeply saddens me. 

But OK, no Jamaica Day presentation, at least I'll have the wedding. Well since I wasn't in complete control of that I was a bit behind concerning its planning and everything. I took a role as we were short of people, ok. But now, the day before the production we have little to nothing ready. Ticket sales at this point seem pretty dismal and I'm just pretty down. Obviously this is still my fault as the president. The club's falls are my falls, the club's triumphs are the club's triumphs. At least those are my sentiments.

Overall I'm pretty tired. Tired of everything.

Now I've been wearing the old tie all week. Most people haven't noticed, but more and more people are asking me "Why're you wearing the old tie?"

To me it's symbolic. Though I guess in the end it doesn't mean anything.  But to me the tie now symbolizes the "Old Chesta". The one I loved. The one that was fun. The one that never pissed me off ever goddamned day. As if wearing the old tie will bring it back .  I know it won't, but it doesn't mean I shouldn't wish it could.

So I will wear the old tie. Hell if I can I'll graduate in it, I will. Because the Old Chesta is the one I wished for 7 years to graduate from.

-Me

  

/r/WritingPrompts

Basically /r/WritingPrompts is a subreddit, where people post ideas or premises for stories and others write using these ideas/premises. It's really cool and if anything it makes you write even more. Practice makes perfect. So I'll basically just write the prompt followed by my submission. Enjoy.
-Me

Prompt: "Instead of trading money for everyday things we trade memories."

Prompt: Write a short prompt about what it means to be from where you are from





Prompt: A guy comes face to face with death




Last one (though it's so incomplete I was actually in pain while I posted it. )

Prompt:   A world like Avatar: the Last Airbender except instead of bending the elements, people use musical instruments to perform magical acts based on what instruments.

Februarius: New Beginnings.

I've been meaning to write a blog post for some time now, and the idea was to recap and talk about the resolutions I made in my Ianuariis post. But, in light of recent developments, I realise I don't need to dedicate a whole blog post to that; just a paragraph really. Or a sentence. And all that sentence needs to say is "I've regressed in every facet of life I pointed out my need to progress in." Because this is what happens when you make New Years' Resolutions, you set up yourself for failure and disappointment. (Oh, all Primary school teachers are turning in their graves/beds right now.... starting several consecutive sentences with But, Or, Because, this whole paragraph is a disaster. Well Done, Mike.)

Before we go into the major discussion (yeah, the first paragraph wasn't enough this time) some more general announcements. Firstly: unfortunately The Death of a Don won't be possible this year. The more I pumped effort into it the more I realised that to present it at high quality wouldn't be possible in the time we have. I do have two smaller, less complex plays, one of which can be produced before the year goes out, so there's that. Secondly: I'M PLAYING A MAJOR-MINOR ROLE IN "WHERE IS MELISSA?" Right now, a month before production, I'm playing a role that commands one of the most complex parts of one of the most complex scenes, AND MY PART DOESN'T EVEN HAVE AN UNDERSTUDY!! I am so psyched for this play, almost as much as I am nervous about it. The closer we get to production and the bigger I realise the event is the more nervous I get. Plus I'm doing choreography. I've been pained up since yesterday too. Most importantly, however, is that this play has a serious and important message and I'm honoured to be a part of it, in any capacity. Lastly: I'm not starting my serious bog for a while, so don't hold your breath, however I've been working on my writing and after this post I'll put up some of my /r/writingprompts work, for you to see my skizillz.

Now for new business: I need to start over. Getting back my grades from last year had an immense effect on my parents, and even one or two of my teachers. More than I thought it would have. Therefore it has incited in me some very important thoughts, and after talking to my father just a while ago, will cause some actions to be taken. Some I won't be comfortable with. However for the greater good, my greater good, they must be done. Thankfully I don't have to drop out of WIM? but my time has to be better used.

I need to start over. This year has had a greater toll on me than I thought. My teachers, except for ~2 of them, aren't doing very well and school life is about as stressful as schoolwork. Drama Club has zero therapeutic effect now and I continue to suck at my prefect duties. School is now, what it has never been for me. Difficult. Schoolwork got difficult starting last year, but school on a whole has always been pretty easy. Now I pretty much hate the place as much as I hate my house, and they are trying very hard to usurp the place that my house has been in my mind since childhood, as the place I would do anything but go to.

I need to start over. In January I said I need to start taking school seriously, now I need to start doing it. That Carib IA, my labs, studying. Especially now with WIM? and all these responsibilities, less of my time is actually mine. So I have to start using my time better, regarding my schoolwork. I'll work out how my writing practice, and the time for my future designs will go, but everything is on a tight leash now. I need to be on point now.

So now, I make a second commitment to my Time. You must be used better if I'm to be successful this year.

-Happy February.
Me

Plans, Ambitions and the Insufficiency of Time

So I've basically had a tonne-load of things to write about and little or no time to talk about it. It is however a good thing that I haven't gotten the opportunity because the last few days have put many things into perspective. However since "Time" is in the title I'll write these things in chronological order, based on when I started to think about these things.

First matter of business: The Death of a Don(?) Even though this has been a HORRIBLE year to be a club president I haven't given up. In fact this year I have had some of my best production ideas since forever and I am dedicated to ensuring they are presented at the highest quality. The Death of a Don however is my pinnacle of ideas this year. A mystery/drama in Jamaican context, good characters and a ridiculous back story... I would share more but that wouldn't be good for business... I can however share this:

As excited as I am about this however, part of me can't help but worry about the time I'm gonna end up spending on this, and by part of me I mean a few concerned friends. I mean this is my last year and I need good grades and what not, can I really afford to invest time in writing,planning, rehearsing and producing 3-4 plays in succession? Of course I can just start using time more wisely but even there I struggle horrendously. But it doesn't end there.

Second: The Teenage Blogger(?) Well I have two blogs, so what could this be about? Well, I've realised that the Internet is one raging cesspool of opportunity and exposure. Out of all my skills I have come to believe that my writing has the most potential. I have also had a recent interest in blogs. I don't see myself as entertaining or visible or relevant enough to do a video blog, though vloggers are among my favourite people on the great and ever-present Internet. However the thought came to me that blogging in itself also has potential for tapping into the Internet's resources in opportunity. So at the beginning of this year (as in January 1st, 2014) I started to seriously consider starting and maintaining a BLOG blog (not like these two little things... I mean blog with an AUDIENCE outside of my closest circle of friends...)

Anyways, the Blog; I was thinking of making it surrounding writing as a whole. My original content, my thoughts and recommendations concerning books that I've read, the original content of other young writers and other fun writing related stuff. As you would expect, like TDoaD,this is  major project, and even worse as this is LONG TERM and TDoaD is gonna be over in a few months, to reap any rewards from this blog idea may take a much more significant amount of time. Do I Have the Time?

Finally: The Actor(?) This week I have been given the opportunity to act in a play. "But you're like drama club president of course you've been in plays..." No. We are talking about a PLAY play here. As in I walked into rehearsal on Friday, got a copy of the script and this was on the cover:

At that point my mind was like"RAAASSCLAAAA-" So as you must realize by now this isn't any domestic, school-esque play. This is a play. A legitimate opportunity for me to act on a stage in front of an audience at least  quasi-professionally. This is one of those particular opportunities that I generally NEVER get. Yet here I am, going to choreography practises like I'm not the living reincarnation of cardboard. Still the hanging question is: Do I Have the Time to Dedicate to This?

Unfortunately, I have no definite answer. The insufficiency of time has always been a recurring theme in my life, and everybody's (or I would like to believe it has been a part of everybody's) yet I still have not learnt how to properly deal with it. However, like everything else in life, the stakes get higher every time you play the game. Now, hanging in the balance by Time's Insufficiency is my perceived "future", and I still, somewhere, believe I can still do everything and lose nothing. Perhaps that's my personal brand of pride, or stupidity.

So, as much as I hope you are all better at managing your time than me, acknowledge your personal insufficiency of time and find a way to act accordingly.

As I (finally) start my Caribbean Studies IA,
-Me