Well, the time for my yearly post is upon us. At least, that’s what it’s starting to feel like. I am kind of (a lot of) disappointed in myself for letting these things like writing and blogging get away from me. They’re a big part of who I once was and who I want to be. Ever since I moved, though, I’ve been insanely busy and tired and emotional and just trying to cope and understand life and what I’m doing in it.
That’s a really bad excuse, though, for how little I’ve been writing, reading, and otherwise just being a good creative. I’ve been feeling really dried up, shell-like. A part of a person who doesn’t really exist to have a full life but someone who just goes through the motions and tries to fill the void with whatever is close at hand.
I’m not saying there’s no sense or purpose in doing the “important” stuff. Managing family and friends, having some time to cut loose, and taking care of your finances and home. Those things are “required” aspects of being a functioning adult.
But, not a functional, happy human.
So, while I was working (because literally any time I do something it’s when I’m working. Otherwise, I’m just freaking home trying to unwind and sleep) I started taking some steps in the right direction. I’m going to start saving as much money as I can for an official editor. I’m going to find someone nearby who I’m close to to read and look over my work so that I have someone’s constant feedback and am able to talk to them about it. That’s something I had in Florida, and it’s something I have come to realize is what I really need.
I have a few people in mind, we’ll see how it goes.
I do still constantly think about my writing and my work. I try to plan things, try to make a game plan, try to prioritize. I do all these things when I have some moments of relative quiet to myself. I do lots of things that make me analyze characters both fictional and non, I try to spice up my life by learning new words for things and using my full vocabulary (which is something that has admittedly been suffering. I blame the lack of sleep).
But, whenever I try to actually do something about these thoughts, put something into action that is a lot more than some notes scribbled on scrap paper, it looks some
thing like this.
So, I have this amalgam of stray papers and crazy notes just scattered about in my study. No big deal.
Things are going to be okay, though. I’m determined to make sure of it. I will do the things I need to!
Plus, one of my biggest distractions is relatively tamed now. I was trapped in the gilded cage of the lovely, heart wrenching, soul churning, squeal-inducing, face splitting Dragon Age games. Trust me, it has been a crazy, crazy ride. I’ve finished all three games, dumping about 60 hours apiece into them. And I’m no completionist, not really. That’s just how long it takes to do a respectable amount of exploring and questing before finally wrapping up the main story line in each game. It’s been a freaking blast, though. I don’t regret a thing. Aside from the massive amount of time it took away from writing and things I really need to be doing with my life.
But, I rationalized it that I work at least 50-70 hours every week. I’m exhausted when I get home. Playing a game is a great way to use my brain without making me think too hard. I mean, the Dragon Age games are a bit of an exception, because in order to advance the story you do have to make some tough calls and use your critical thinking skills. But, there’s also areas you can just run out and kill stuff and that’s pretty fun too.
It’s kind of inspired me to possibly add some little bits to my blog about video game/computer game reviews. Because I like looking at the character development and the story lines that come along with them, that’s what really gets me. Especially the “blaze your own trail” type. Sure, there’s only a certain number of outcomes programmed into the game, but being able to decide what happens from A to Z is really really fun. It’s a lot like writing a story (;
Aside from that, other updates in my life involve taking care of my little fluff ball and supporting local artists as much as possible. I had this amazing drawing of Shark commissioned! Look how dumb and fluffy she is!
The artist who did this is really great, we’ve been hanging out whenever we both have free time and she does lots of really cool artwork! Her name is Ashley, and she grew up in this area! You should check her out!
I also know of a pleasant young person named Bethany, and they do cute felting!
I took a trip down to Florida over Christmas break, to see my family and friends again! Everyone is growing up so much and so fast! It’s insane. My brother is driving, now, which just makes me glad I don’t have to share those roads with him! But catching up with my siblings was like I never left. My brother and sister and I are weird with each other in ways we can’t be weird with other people. It’s a relaxed environment where we don’t judge each other for making stupid faces and strange gestures with flailing limbs and accompanying ridiculous trumpeting sounds. We’re more dinosaur than human when we get together. We tease each other mercilessly, we get into contests over bodily functions, we fall on top of each other, we wrestle, and of course we have the typical sibling moments where we bond over feelings and such. My sister is a teenage girl, now. I know how hard it is to be that! But, at least they both have good moral compasses to guide them through life. Even though, as the oldest sibling, it is my duty to make things extra difficult for them!
My parents are the same as they always were. I love them to death. It’s really interesting to see how our parents evolve within our own minds as we grow older, and as we have more experiences of our own. We notice the flaws in our parents, the humanity they posses that we don’t always see as children. The givers of life and care, who seem impregnable to corruption and flaw, eventually fall to equal status as ourselves. They are human, and they come fully equipped with their own unique set of imperfections. But, provided those imperfections don’t incriminate them or harm you traumatically, we still love them with our whole hearts and we accept them the way they have accepted us as we blunder through our early years.
Being an adult is weird. I’m 23, and I still don’t understand it fully. But, for right now, I’m happy to say that I’ll be on the right path for me no matter how it pans out. All I know, is that road had better involve lots of places to sit down and write.