FEAR.

Soooo, I'm keeping 'em promises that I didn't necessarily make. So I started this post like... more than a month ago now? Now, typically when I pause a post it's dead, like my rap career, but somehow ,this one has stayed in my mind, so I'll see how this goes.

So with that behind us, welcome back to impulseprose, all the rambling of a podcast but in sweet, sweet Arial (which reminds me... it's about time I redesign this blog, it's 2018). Also, Happy "New" Year, and to celebrate this, another completed revolution around the great nuclear reaction in the sky, we'll be talking about something which I think is very relevant to the beginning of anything, really; Fear.

So unless your name is Fairytale (on this blog at least) this may come as a surprise to you, but I''m afraid of a lot of shit. Typically most people seem to think I don't give a fuck, which is kinda accurate. However, right under the pile of fucks I withhold from the world is just a shit tonne of fear. So I've been thinking about how to structure this, and I feel it can only truly be done as listicle of sorts. So here are the TOP 5 THINGS I FEAR (YOU WON'T BELIEVE #4) with the caveat of me not knowing whether or not I'll be listing 5 things or what number 4 will be. We'll start it off with an oldie-but-goodie.

I'm Afraid of Cockroaches

This isn't a surprise at all. I've been alluding to, making jokes about, telling people about and justifying my fear of cockroaches for years. Most of you probably even know the story of how this fear came about. However there are some things about this I don't think I've ever really tried to convey. 

Firstly is the sheer magnitude of my dread surrounding cockroaches. I am deeply uncomfortable just writing this segment, but it's also probably the most inconsequential one so it's a good start. Cockroaches don't elicit a fight or flight response in me. I legitimately freeze. I then forever live in constant anxiety, dread and terror as the fucking spawn of Satan disappears and reappears. It's basically like the scene from The Magicians where they encounter The Beast for the first time (which is probably not the best literary reference, however I do strongly recommend The Magicians. It's lit.) But the most important thing here is that I do nothing, and I feel like there is nothing I can do.

Secondly is my awareness of just how stupid my fear of cockroaches is. A fear of cockroaches, regardless of its cause, is baseless and illogical. Disgust is a decent response. It's 100% fine for me to be repulsed by cockroaches. But the fear, that's just plain stupid, and yet...

I'm Afraid of Men

This is kind of strange, I think. I am, for those of you who are unaware, a man myself, so it seems like a fear of men is either, like, weird or ultimately indicative of some kind of self hatred or something? However, looking back through most of my social interactions I can confirm there is a deep fear of masculinity throughout most of my life.

Now, I'll talk a bit about how I think this came about. Firstly, I've never really been traditionally masculine. From my youth I was overtly emotional (in the form of temper tantrums in my childhood), never really liked sports or cars most of that typical little boy shit. Now I'm not saying these things are inherently masculine, just that that was what most of my peers would consider "boy stuff" and I was shit at "boy stuff". I also never really went through that phase of boy/girl separation, and so for most of my childhood I could, like, identify with my female peers more than their male counterparts. And that has followed me throughout my life to this point.

So going through preparatory and high school around mostly girls (typically had a small group of male friends then was friends/acquaintances with like just.. all the girls who would talk to me.) I became increasingly uncomfortable with male company outside of my friend group. Now this may sound like I'm blowing this out of proportion by calling it a "fear", but this it more fear than my intense disgust of cockroaches. Like, I basically avoided members of my household when I lived on campus, because I don't know how to talk to guys, I have an intense anxiety every time I go to work partially because I'm sitting right in-front of my [male] boss and I'm even still kinda uncomfortable around Fairytale's male friends... after knowing them for 4 years (It's horrible). So, yeah. I think this qualifies.

Side note: I think a result of my... negative bias against males is a pretty strong implicit bias towards females, which when paired with my naïveté, means that I actually can't be impartial in any matter involving like gender relations... because I'm smart enough to somehow justify my eventual siding with the female half of the argument. Implicit biases aren't good, so at least try to identify your own implicit biases so you can account for them, lest they govern your judgment from the shadows.

I'm Afraid of the Future

Or, more accurately, I'm afraid of the uncertainty of the future. Fairytale, deals with this particular one way too much, and I'm so sorry. I think I stated in one of my poems (when I wrote that shit) the concept of the "Continual Present".

Or the Flow of Time.
Though I am skeptical of the Future.
As I see more Now, and a Hope that Now continues.
And in this Continual Present,
- Aevum, Me

 And this really sums up my attitude towards time. I try not to dwell on the past (as acknowledged by its absence in a verse about the flow of time), I think about my present, and I hope I don't have to think about the Future, and for much of my life I didn't have to, because my future consisted of more school.

But I'm done with school.

So as a result of this, here I am in a job I kind of hate, with no prospects of finding a new one (because I haven't looked). Each time Fairytale and I talk about our futures (which will become our Future) I become panicked and clueless and generally frustrating to deal with as I make feeble attempts to give any meaningful answers. (again.. I'm so sorry)

And an additional fear which is intrinsically tied to this: I fear I will basically destroy my possible future by failing to take proper steps to reach it. So... yeah.

I'm Afraid of, like, People? I guess? 

This one is probably the most nebulous, even to me. Especially because part of my whole... I don't know, persona is that I don't give a fuck what people think about me. I would want that to be true of me, but most of the time it isn't.

I am, I think, an ambivert.

ambivert

ˈambɪvəːt/

noun: ambivert; plural noun: ambiverts

1. a person who has a balance of extrovert and introvert features in their personality.

 However, instead of like a balance I'm more of like a bipolivert because I basically am either a complete recluse or a functioning member of society, with few intermediates between those two extremes.

Ummm... Lil Bipoli Vert? I don't know.I felt I needed a Lil Uzi Vert joke here somewhere.. 

But, in general, I find myself particularly socially inept, not because I lack charisma, but because I feel like I don't really understand people, and as clichés go people fear that which they don't understand. I don't know if I miss social cues or if there is some generally accepted behaviour that I am unaware of, and that tends to lead to a kind of social stress which I think most people have felt, but I feel it constantly... Um, as I said, this one may be a bit of a stretch, but let's get an example.

So when I was conceptualizing this post, this was one of the first ones that came to mind because of a certain situation I was facing at the time. So here's the scene: I'm living with my aunt currently, and at this particular time, I was really hungry. Like really hungry, but I was actually afraid of getting up and making something to eat because my aunt had offered me food some hours before and I was worried that making food, at that moment, would have been offensive. Looking back at it, it's amazing how afraid I was, when my aunt was probably more worried that I hadn't eaten yet. If Fairytale didn't convince me to get off my ass it is very likely I would have gone to be hungry that night for no goddamned reason. So yeah, it makes no sense, but making sense isn't exactly something fear takes particularly seriously. 

And finally...

So I made it to 4 things, and I'm sure there are a lot of other things I could list (conflict, loss, my own inadequacy, driving) and I could drop another to meet my arbitrary count of 5, but there's not much else to talk about. My final point is always where I try to link my self-centred ramblings to you, the reader. Now, it's very likely that I don't know your fears. I don't know how they started or how they manifest themselves, or how you've dealt with them. But all I can honestly give you is the most cliché piece of fucking advice possible: Don't let fear rule your life. I can honestly say that I've allowed it to happen far too much in my own life, and something has to be done about that, or I risk my fears becoming reality. So as usual, my message boils down to: "Heya Kids, don't be me"

In closing: I'm a pussy. But as the saying goes: You are what you eat.

Hope your year's been good so far and best wishes for the rest of it,

Me

Continued Self-Awareness

Hey there! I'm writing again, and as I mentioned last time, my life still isn't falling apart. I'm fine. This post isn't necessarily another cry for help or a blind rant in search of catharsis, it's more a... discussion. Of course, it's a one way discussion, but most of you know me, so I don't know, if for whatever reason you feel you just have to reply, feel free to do so. Hit me up on Twitter,Telegram, um.. by smoke signal?  I don't know where else you could find me, but yeah. Do that, and I'd be glad to talk about whatever. That was a bigger diversion than it should have been, but this whole thing is meant to be stream of consciousness.. that's why it's called impulseprose.

So as most of you are aware, this blog has changed a great deal since its pathetic, but necessary beginnings. I was actually talking to a friend about this today (formerly known as Kohai, but that's no longer an accurate descriptor so let's refer to her as the Wayward Genius, Wayward to her friends.) As I was saying to Wayward, I think the defining feature of this blog has always been, to some degree, that it is an exercise in self awareness. It is, and has been, a tool to document and work through facets of my being that I have realised by just putting them out there. Not really to say "Look at me" but just for it to exist, I guess. So that I can go back to it, and that those I care about, who have helped me to come to these realisations in the first place can watch and see for themselves. That they can look on for a moment and say proudly, "Well... At least him know seh him fool".

So, with that in mind, I think it makes sense that I run into this theme headfirst. So far I've been stumbling into self awareness. I've come across morsels of understanding, just going through life, which I guess is just how life works. So by that metric I've been doing a decent job, but since I've been, unknowingly, on this journey of the Self for so long, I think it's time I take it seriously. It's about time I spend time actively looking into myself to dig out these truths. I mean, realistically, maybe some of them will turn up to be flowery bullshit that I've conjured up and convinced myself is true, but other stuff will be real and those understandings of myself will help me to be a better me. I can capitalize on my strengths and learn to work around my weaknesses and all that self improvement stuff (or I could do nothing about either, but you know. Optimism is nice sometimes.)

But, dear reader, what does that mean for you? 

I actually have no idea

But seriously, it could mean more posts on the blog. Which, really, is a bit of a double edged sword. On one hand some of you will actually hear from me, which is nice; but on the other hand it'll just be more ranting about myself. So, tl;dr if what you want is more of this rambly nonsense, then sure. You're Welcome. Otherwise, I deeply apologize. 

Now the funny thing about this is that all I've said up to this point was really supposed to be an introduction, but it became somewhat of an announcement didn't it. Sooo what that means is that there will be another post shortly after this one (though I won't specify shortly on what scale), but I actually have like 2 blog post worthy ideas (so... just ideas really) so I look forward to wasting a bit more of your time in the coming weeks. 

I'm making no promises. 

Hopefully, 

Me.

On Aging and 22nd Birthdays

Unlike a father who went out for cigarettes, I have returned. I felt today deserved a blog post, because recently I've only written when I'm going through some deep, depressing shit. But, it truly is important to write on good days too. Because, for my hypothetical fans, it's important to note:

I have good days too.

 So with that out of the way. I'll ramble through my declaration of intent disguised as a title in reverse order.

On 22nd Birthdays

As a friend put it, "Welcome to the the early 20's". So to be honest it was an uneventful day to any average person. I checked on some stuff for graduation, I met with a friend (who may or may not be reading this?) and I bought cake and ice-cream. So with that I can say this has been my best birthday in recent memory, which is pretty pathetic in a way, but you know, it's ok; because I suck at birthdays. The fact that I didn't just stay home and reduce myself to a well simmered stew of self pity is an accomplishment, so I will focus on that. I had a good day, even if it was pretty mundane.

On Aging

So here's where (hopefully) I can start talking about interesting concepts and idea, cool? Aging has been kind of on my mind, recently, not because of my upcoming birthday but because of two things. Firstly, I've been living with my aunt for the past few months and my grandfather, who is 92, has visited a few times for checkups and the like. My grandfather is in pretty good shape for a 92 year old, he's physically active, he's still pretty sharp mentally, the only thing is his memory, which tends to fade with age. So really, it's a blessing that my grandfather is in the shape he's in, but it still kinda stings that he doesn't seem to remember me.

I legit spent a good 20 mins talking to my grandfather, trying to remind him I'm his grandson, to no degree of success.

— Michael. (@mikexcelsior) October 24, 2017

So that kinda sucks. Secondly recently two of my favourite youtube creators; Kurzgesagt and CGP Grey (highly recommended btw), collaborated to talk about this very subject: Aging by the former and it's close partner Death by the latter.

Aging has been a part of life since there has been life. We know what causes it, every now and then we discover some organisms that can disregard it, and 24/7 makeup companies talk about how they can combat it. But in a way the great zig-zag line of human progress has turned out to be a fight against aging. We live longer and healthier than ever before, we've developed amazing medical discoveries and advancement but most of our medical resources go to the long-lived, because the taxman cometh.

I don't really have a point to make here. Like if we somehow made amazing serum which would make me impervious to the deterioration that comes with age would I take it? I don't know. I'm basically in the prime years of my life and I spend most of that time sitting, playing League of Legends. So like, does having a countdown timer on "health" make it worth more? Would it be right to remove that from the human race if we could? Will my grandfather remember me?

Find out next time...

Loneliness II: The Returning

Context

Loneliness was the 3rd post I made on this lowly blog,way back in the distant past of 2013. It was a simpler time: Obama was POTUS, I had just lost a girlfriend who seemed important to me then but would soon prove to be largely insignificant, my future still involved school and, somehow, Vybz Kartel wasn't yet in prison (oh, how time has soiled us all).However, back then, 4 years ago, I wrote Loneliness; a thesis of sorts in which I detailed my feelings of loneliness from the perspective of a recently heartbroken 17 year old. But there comes a time, where like an 8th Fast and Furious movie, the story must continue and it is partially for that purpose hat I am here as a 21 year old in an ongoing 3 year long distance relationship to wax poetic on the same issue. 

The Returning

Had someone told me, 4 years ago, that I would be in a relationship which has lasted 3 years and counting, I would have laughed. I, impulseprose, was not a long-term relationship kinda guy... at that point I had just failed to keep a relationship longer than 2 months. So I would not have believed you. However, let's pretend there is a Universe in which I did believe you; if you then told me that I would still be lonely despite the term of my relationship I would still have laughed. Relationships, I believed, made me happy. They were the spice of life, in lieu of Variety. And even now I cannot say I was totally wrong, back then, I can however say that nothing is ever that simple.

You see my relationships,and that with Fairytail (you remember her right? Yup, still going.) among others have made me happy. What has soured it, however, is Distance. This is a different breed of loneliness than that of my 17 year old self. This is still analagous to Hunger, but not the Hunger of a starving man but that of one who has tasted ambrosia and drunk nectar and then has to be content with the food of mere mortals.What I wanted then was sustenance, just a likkle food, enough to get by. Now I need luxury, I need the real stuff... and I need it so fucking badly. 

One may say,

But, impulseprose, isn't sustenance enough? In any event your current state is only temporary right? You'll get the real stuff or whatever soon.

And yeah, sure.  Logically it should be fine. But I am not in the situation for logic to fucking work. Because tasting perfection means that everything you consume which isn't perfection is a stab in your gut and a whisper in your ear saying "She isn't here". Just a reminder that your happiness is elsewhere. A notification, kindly informing you of the emptiness you've felt, and have been aptly avoiding, since the last time you were remotely happy. 

The old loneliness was just a hopeless spiral. This, this is different. Because there isn't just Hope, there is a kind of Certainty. The pain comes from the Distance and the Time. It's not the absence of Happiness; it's knowing you could be happy, but you aren't. This is a Prison, of sorts. A Purgatory, within which you know you cannot stay forever, but is sure as Hell feels like fucking forever.

I am a lonely man. 

Maybe that's just a defining feature. I was lonely before I had a girlfriend and I'm lonely now that I do. But I have tasted Happiness, and Love, and Belonging; I feel reminders of it every day. Because the thing about it is that I still need the food. It's no ambrosia, but I'm not starving right? So, for me at least, this loneliness is necessary.

It will end...
With Love,
-Me 

I Am Not Good At This...

So I'm not apologizing for not writing in so long because, well, quite frankly no-one cares... Well, that's not true, but I'm still not apologizing. Mainly because she doesn't want any apologies from me at this time. So... the last time you heard from me, impulseprose, was on Fairytale's birthday. So at least it was a happy occasion, and I'm grateful for that. This, however, is not a happy occasion.

When I introduced myself to you, impulseprose, I mentioned that I was a "Relationship Shegger". That, as far as I know, has not changed. I still continue to tear down all the relationships I have build, no matter how invincible I had though them to be... which is why I am afraid, and why I'm writing this right now. I'm afraid that I'm well on the path to destroying my relationship with Fairytale... and I don't know if I can survive that happening. That, impulseprose, would be the heartbreak that kills me, or worse.

Simply put: I am not good at this.

The distance has escalated from the last time we spoke. Moving from 1 hour and 45 mins by bus to about 8 hours by plane. So, in response, I have gotten better at none of the things that made the distance particularly hard last year. I communicate like shit, impulseprose... like fucking shit. Nothing I do works. Which isn't helped by the orientation process where I feel inclined to doing as much as possible and then some. So again I'm drowning myself in work while she is alone ... I'm just the worst possible fucking piece of UGH, that she could've chosen as her boyfriend. And she's continued to choose me, and forgive me... and I still do the same shit.

I am not good at this.

"I love you" and "I'm sorry" are probably the two most common phrases I say to her... and tonight she accepted neither of them. I'm afraid. I try not to think about negative stuff these days because I have the tendency to just wallow in self-hatred... but maybe I need some wallowing now... if anything for practice.. Because I'm afraid that this is the beginning of the end of us.  I don't want it to be, but I'm too bad at this for it to be sustainable. I can't ask her to forgive me of all my transgressions, she's only one person.

I am not good at this.

But I love her.
But that doesn't seem to be enough right now.
-Me

A Tale of an Appropriate Misnomer

Hello again, impulseprose. I have not forgotten you and I guess, I had to wish you Happy New Year somehow, even if it's the 6th, at least it's still January. Though I guess I must say, I never came here to do that, because well, I don't know, but I came here because today, my dear handful of readers, is FairyTail's  birthday.

So this blog, you see, was founded for one simple reason. I needed to rant. I have continued that rend and it is that culture which has led to the undisciplined, inconsistent and rather lazy outlook on posting here. I only come here, you see, when I want to rant (whether or not I'm able to do so). Now, the subject of my rants have been different and have changed as I have changed(?) and highlight my so-called troubles, my highs, my lows, my fickle cries for attention and my ever-present but illusive thoughts. It started however, with a breakup. A relationship which was really, really bad and benefited no-one and is now really just a giant scar, as it were, on my last years of high school. The ranting, for which, led to the only thing which has remained constant on this blog: Giving people nicknames.

So it started with A certain petite girl, which is probably a very fitting and nonspecific name which in a way, I believe, made getting over her, the aim of this blog at the time I must add, not so much a task. It didn't glorify her in any way, she was nothing, in the confines of this blog, but a certain petite girl, and eventually I realised.

I guess you see where I'll be going soon enough, but bear with me, this isn't creative writing, if I'm gonna be predictable then boo-hoo, cry me a river, [insert other "I careth not" cliche here].

So I made a lot of mention of  "certain friend" in my earlier posts (I am literally reading through all my posts and tracking the development of my pseudonyms) who would eventually be called mandevillegirl who for the love of all things beautiful and just is an AMAZING person who probably helped more than anyone through the whole petite girl phase. I respect few people more, and as shitty as I am as a friend she pretty much doesn't seem to care much. Always one to "Hi, Mike :)" and share insight or a few jokes, cheers me up even though at any given time she's probably not doing as well as I am, which makes me wonder if I've ever helped her >__> I dont know.

Actually, You the #1 Boss mandevillegirl

Next was a certain kohai, -kohai, as you may or may not know is a japanese honorific which refers to anyone at a lower stage in an establishment, the opposite, then of the more popular -sempai honorific, basically, in this case, it meant underclassman. AKA a certain former jailbait  in another post, so named because she had come to sixth form before the age of consent (which is 16 in Jamaica). This girl was the friend I needed in Upper Six, even though the was a Lower Sixer. The little enjoyment I got from my last year at that freaking school was because of her, and I'm eternally grateful. Eternally. 

Another awesome individual, however the names, still plain, still pretty basic. Though, mandevillegirl is indeed her blog's name, so not my given pseudonym, so there was the "a certain [descriptor]" nomenclature seen here. 

Then came FairyTail, so named because in a conversation we had early in our pre-relationship talkings about manga, she said the only one she ever read/liked was FairyTail. That's the story. But the name is so different it's ridiculously uncharacteristic looking at the others. From a certain petite girl to fairytail the difference between my mind going into a relationship and my mind coming out of one?  Probably. But 9-almost-10-months later it still seems pretty different so probably not it. 

The thing with this name though is that for all intents and purposes, it's a badly chosen name. It has a good feel you see, but Fairytail, as it were, doesn't like princesses. 

I do Japanese in school and tasked my self with finding a japanese nickname for Fairytail because I'm still adorable like that. So after some research I found myself somewhat enamoured with the -hime honourific. -Hime is an honourific/name suffix that would be given to a daiymo or shogun's daughter in feudal Japan, in essence, it's only translation in western society is princess. It works really good with the whole Fairytail rhetoric we have going on here. Plus it's the only one I knew, so it was easy. Till I told her about it. Her response?

"Princess? Bleh...."

"Nah"

"Ewww...haha..."

"Anything but the Princess one babe"

And you see the trend. I guess it works out for the best because in hindsight... what was I thinking v__v. But looking at it now, I cant make any Fairytail jokes. I mean unless she were to be Prince Charming (which when I think about it, she was the one who took my number... but then that would make me.. nope.. no.) So I guess, it just ends as a name, on my blog. 

But, in a way, we've been in each others' lives for about 11 months now almost 10 of which we've been in a relationship, which I must add must be due to some form of witchcraft for me. So in some way the name rings a bit true. We all know "Happily Ever After" isn't a thing, so I guess it's my task for the story to just not finish.

Wishing you a Happy Birthday, Fairytail. Continue your fair tale, and I shall aspire to fill your pages with happiness, and in lieu of that, apology. 

-Me

"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