Interest: Plummeting Faster than The Stock Market

What happened here? Suddenly, everybody needs to be motivated? 

It's a fairly simple thing: either you wanna do something or you don't.

George Carlin

Looks like I'm part of the latter group: even though I live a life of fiscal, recreational and organisational ease and luxury, it's harder than ever for me to bring myself out of bed, even if I have somewhere to be. I missed a whole day's worth of classes simply because I got up too late and couldn't be bothered going anywhere, the twenty minute walk being just too much for me to handle—first world's a bitch like that :P  It's ridiculous how one negative thought can manifest into ten or fifteen which then combine like the Power Rangers, using their incredible force to obliterate the evil that is my hopes and dreams :P  I used to actually have hopes and dreams… there aren't many left. Everyone around me seems to have concrete goals, or at least goals they can plan for and progress towards in a measurable manner. What are my goals? …don't be miserable… that's the only one I can say for sure. There's heaps of other stuff I'd like to do—that I'd love to do—but that for me doesn't automatically constitute a 'goal'. I've always been told a goal is supposed to be achievable, and that's the definition I take; once I deem such a thing unachievable, it stops being a goal and becomes a pipe dream. So I have lots of pipe dreams… meaning my life's going down the wrong tube.

The most prevalent dream, by law, must always be to do with a girl: whether it be in the traditional sense of 'I have a dream', or the contemporary sense of 'I had a dream last night', it's always a woman. University is a smorgasbord; and with classes as long as two hours, there's always time to ogle at the one I choose to in silence as she looks at her notes or the tutor. It's almost too easy—she sits on the other side of the room, for fuck's sake! Such pleasure in hypothetical futures quickly dissipates, however, when my brain deems this to be an illogical desire, at least when my personality and habitual flaws are brought to light. Any rational person clearly understands that there is no justification in chasing something this unlikely—surely, no woman would want to go out with anyone who looks, talks, eats or thinks like me. I'm ugly, picky, whiny and disgusting: what a catch :P  But, what am I supposed to do? Not look? Not want? Not dream? As much as I'd like to stop dreaming, it's not possible! I'm heterosexual: I'm going to like women whether I want to or not. Being the paradoxical little fuck it is, reason also states that this shit simply isn't reasonable: neither love, nor lust, nor attraction is controllable like that. I want it to be, but it isn't. That's what's really illogical: to expect me to ditch desires inherent in my nature as a human being.

I've had heaps of dreams lately (the kind you have at night fast asleep, even though I'm usually half awake when doing so; kind of like a daydream at night time) that portray me being close with a woman, beyond mere sexual contact. Images of all sorts fill me with warmth, such as me with my arms wrapped around her in bed; or cuddling her with my back against a wall; at a café together, her laughing as we converse; or at a dance of some form where her head rests on my upper chest (the dictionary doesn't really give me the impression that I have a 'bosom' for her head to be resting on :P), my hand slowly stroking the back of her head, fingers flowing through her hair, her eyes closed, using me as her pillow so to speak. The problem is, having not seen the particular girl I'm attracted to for about a month now (due to the break, classes being cancelled/missed, etc.), and only really scratching the surface on said attraction anyway, she's fading from memory; this leads to my brain going back and picking anyone it can to fill the gap. In this state, this limbo of allure, the woman's identity is far from static—sometimes it's an old face, sometimes a new face—but the actions remain fairly consistent.

I think it's clear, from what I infer, that I want a fulfilling relationship, something beyond what I've already had; but my self esteem puts me beneath all that, leading me to believe I cannot possibly achieve that for there is no woman on this Earth willing to put herself in the complimentary position, a position so many seem to have temporarily filled in my mind. Until I know more about the university girl's personality, she will not become a true fixation. To give you an idea of how little I'm running off here, I actually got kind of excited when I heard the word 'Magikarp' come out of her mouth—all because this might mean she likes Pokémon, which means she might like video games, which means we might have something in common beyond our subjects. Slim pickin's, huh—not to mention what a perfect image that is: I practically am Magikarp, splashin' around in a puddle and expecting it to do something other than make a noise :P  In a way, I like this mindset, at least in that it tells me that I want to go off what's on the inside rather than what's on the outside when it comes to true desire for a woman, but it also leaves me with this wayward romantic desire that won't go away.

I really do have to go out and meet people :P

Second to that, of course, come intellectual pursuits: a 'career' (a job'll do just fine, thank you :P) and the development of my mind in terms of culture and booksmarts. Every time I watch a comedy festival, or see some comic on stage in front of a big crowd, and seeing the reaction they get from what they do, I want to be just like them. I want to go in front of rooms full of people and speak my mind like I do here to make people think and to make myself feel like I'm worth something :P  Ever since I experienced the incredible minds of Carlin, Bruce, Hicks (just to name a few), I've wanted to challenge my own mind and that of others on stage just as they did; but once again, cracks in the path quickly form.

First is my great fear of food and travel: two things any performer on the road kinda needs to be fine with :P  Travelling in a car or a train isn't so bad—that I could deal with easy—but boats and planes fuck with me. I get seasick really, really easy; but even if I didn't, the plane is what will take me to different countries (this is 2012 for fuck's sake—why am I going on about boats in the first place :P). When it comes to air travel, both my fear of dying in a plane crash (quite a few of which I've read about recently—thanks, Wikipedia :P) and my discomfort with food (do they serve Doritos on aeroplanes?) both trample the dream. I know that unless I'm in the middle of nowhere in a non-Western nation, there will be a store that sells some bag or box of processed nourishment to keep me somewhat alive... or do I? Surely, if I did know that, I wouldn't be so scared... the level of quality in what my mind classifies as 'knowledge' has done nothing but skyrocketed lately (especially since taking Philosophy :P). Thankfully, I know that I can always think and write no matter where I am, so I take some comfort that I can still get my ideas out there, if only in written form.

The other problem for me has been coming up more and more, not only in watching other comics, but in attending university as well: everything's been said. Every fucking thing, goddamnit! It seems like everyday, I lose an original idea; I might have thought of the idea on my own, but someone else presented it before I did; so even though my idea was of my own conclusions, an audience won't see it that way. What is there to make fun of that hasn't been made fun of? What ground is there that people haven't explored already? What conventions could I challenge? Does anything offend anyone anymore? Does discomfort exist anymore? Or will everyone be perfectly OK with whatever comes out of my mouth? I've said controversial shit before, yeah, but the 'PG-tolerant' world of high school (in what they'd allow anyone to put on stage publicly, anyway) is gone: that was what made stuff I said to those people back then 'controversial' in any sense of the word. I could joke about anything to a pack of uni students and get into no trouble whatsoever, and in recently watching the 2011 Montreal Comedy Festival on TV, politics and social issues were certainly on the agenda (although in a nature far less confronting than that of Carlin, Hicks, etc. :P). I don't want to just say outlandish shit for the sake of attention; I want to provoke thought through the verbal comic instilment of discomfort in what we accept in society. It's not just a matter of saying 'fuck' anymore; it's a matter of stating why we're fucked, how we got fucked, and (perhaps) what we need to do to stop being fucked.

I suppose if I really wanted a challenge, I could always learn Arabic, go to Saudi Arabia to perform, and open with 'Man, what's the deal with fundamentalist Islam? Jeez, it'd be easier for a dog to get a driver's license over here than a woman, 'ey!'

If I truly want to start dabbling in comedy, there's a bar at the uni (named 'The UniBar'... sigh :P) that I could apply to perform at. Looking at their website, there's no 'comedy night' or 'resident comedian' or anything of the sort, so perhaps this'd be something new for them... which is exactly what I fucking want, isn't it? ...why haven't I applied yet... :P  This little opening keeps my comedy dreams alive, and it has done for over a year. I actually originally wanted to go there every week and perform, talking about whatever came to my mind, sometimes testing new bits, sometimes going on improvised rants (a la Williams, Noble or Izzard) about current events and whatnot. I'd love to be someone who could get on stage with nothing in terms of a script and then go on to perform an hour long show, but that takes practice (a lot of practice :P), and I'm just happy to get on stage and perform whenever I can, so it's good to have a place I can do that. My dreams of women, on the other hand, while prevalent, are taken to be ridiculous in nature, because there's nothing concrete there. There's just one girl I have my eye on (out of how many? Selective much? O.O) that I know nothing about—what can my mind do with that? Nothing productive, that's for sure :P

What's really mind boggling, however, is not that I'm thinking this way at the moment, but that I'm still thinking this way after doing so for a year. I wrote an article about a year back describing my self-esteem as a pendulum, swinging back and forth, where thinking of a woman seemed to bring the pendulum down and thinking of comedy (and a somewhat-certain girl interest) brought it back up: this is the exact same thing. The exact same thing. Verbatim. Identical. Different in no way, shape or form! ...how am I still back here!? Surely, I should have learned about this last time and moved on! But no, it's the same old shit, day after day, week after week: the wheels on the bus go round and round, but the bus is still bogged in snow, the same snow it has been for a very long time. Without action, there can be no progress, short of a burst of incredible luck, unreliable at best.

The fact of the matter is: I'm not willing to take risks anymore. I don't want to talk to this girl for fear of embarrassment and rejection; I don't want to ask anyone to let me perform comedy for fear of social contact and disturbing the status quo (in terms of scheduling: you have no idea how much I hate interrupting people—I don't even make phone calls on that basis :P); I don't want to drive a car for fear of a collision; I don't want to drink or consume any party drug for fear of loss of self awareness and control, possible arrest and almost certain bodily harm. I'm simply no longer in favour of putting myself in any position where there's anything substantial to lose anymore... compared to, say, when I was sixteen, telling a room of twenty people the name of the girl I'd liked for two years, or waiting outside the classroom she was in to ask her out; or pulling another girl aside months later to do the same thing, this time successfully, or perhaps kissing her without warning at the lighthouse; or getting on stage alone to tell jokes for the first time; or getting up on assembly without permission to bitch about the fence... what happened? Did the prescription on my balls run out? I mean, I loved the rush I got from doing all those things even though I didn't always get the outcome I wanted, yet I seem to have retracted further into my little shell, unwilling to chase that which I appear to revel in!

It seems that those are my two options: either stay spinning in this little emotional circle, within my shell, waiting for Lady Luck to see me in my self-indulgent peril, for her to be fooled into granting me everything I want; or actually make my own moves, knowing I'm going to fall down, but also knowing that I can get back up. It sounds fucking retarded and cheesy—believe me, I know :P—but that's the way it is. I'm not sure if and when my balls will regrow, but I do believe, rather strongly, that if there's something in my life that I truly want, whether it be to know if some girl is interested in me, or to try and can pull off comic shenanigans like those of my idols—if I truly want something—I'll persevere and go for it eventually. The aforementioned evidence is what leads me to believe this, as procrastinative as it may seem; that's where my faith lies. That said, however... I've almost certainly got shit to do :P

You know what they could do, though? How about reporting on some plane landings, huh? Plane landings: you know, what's supposed to happen when a plane gets to the airport! I think we might think of pilots as a bit more competent if we were actually told that they can do their jobs correctly every once in a while, don't you!?

Self-Esteem: Stop Flicking That Goddamned Light Switch!

I recall in an earlier entry I wrote creating some wild metaphor where I described mood in terms of a fluorescent light, and how I had "severed the connection" so to speak, effectively disabling the bulb. I've successfully managed to solder the wires and get the bulb back up and running, but only to an intermittent extent. It's unusual how one minute I'm full of confidence, but the next leaves me lacking worth and cause... that can't be good :P  The first term that jumps to mind for most would be "bi-polar," and I'd be rather inclined to agree, but the second idea that comes in to play is that of seeking help... right :P  The only person who can help me right now doesn't even know who she is... nor do I know who she is :P  I have a fairly good idea who she is at the moment, sure, but I could be very very wrong (and it wouldn't be the first time.) My self-esteem has taken up bungee jumping, and if you've ever had one of your fluorescent lights just get up and decide to go bungee jumping, you'll know how dangerous (and hallucinogenic :P) such a situation is -- that bulb so much as taps that wall, and, without the rope even breaking, it shatters in to a million pieces... goodbye Mr. Bulb...

...there I go again :P  Metaphors: how do they work?

This pendulum-esque behaviour usually starts when I begin comparing myself to others. I'm a very judgmental person, both unto myself and everyone around me. If you've so much as been in my presence for more than a few seconds, or if you've said so much as a word to be, I've assessed you, top to bottom :P  It's a hobby that only retains its appeal with the possibility of someone I'm judging to be "worse" than I am, hence making me feel better about myself -- I use the term "worse" loosely because to call Person A "worse" than Person B is just fucking ignorant, seeing as people do not have a "quality value" attached to them for easy comparison (as everyone seems to think these days). Compared to people I find on the Internet, I'm an intelligent, talented and credible figure. With all the brain-dead motherfuckers out there in the digital realm, I can at times see myself as some kind of mystical deity; one of the few who somehow retained the ability to communicate on a level beyond that of the virtual commoner. When I return to the real world, however, things take a mighty turn mighty fast :P

My life in a sense more broad than the computer is nowhere near as appealing, and I'm sure many others would look down on my position considering my circumstances -- I am alone most of the time, with hardly a name or two I can attach to "friends;" I am without the desire to meet new people or enter new places; and I am without the eager nature to do things that have even the *potential* for catastrophe, unlike everyone else in my demographic who all seem otherwise impatient and careless. The people I know are always socialising and doing dangerous shit (at least what I consider dangerous :P) and it evidently makes them happy... so what the fuck is stopping me? Fear! I don't want to be killed in a car accident by some dope who can barely tell left from right when he's sober, not do I want to take control of any similar death machine! Fuck that! I've got things to do, and I don't need a car to do any of them! Thinking of myself in this way destroys all hope and all happiness, leaving me empty inside for a seemingly indefinite time. This is all intensified as my ex comes to mind, always ending with me pondering on my worth as a person and wondering why I should even try to socialise when it's evident I'm just not good with people.

As we hit the middle of the pendulum, now at near maximum velocity (yes; my metaphors obey the laws of physics :P), we approach light speed, and as everything is a dark blur, I begin to search for anything that reflects light. Usually, this is my fancy -- probably because she's fair-skinned and hence reflects lots of light :D -- but those questions of "what does she see in me?" come back to fuck with my head once more. The momentum this pendulum has, however, is incredible (it's fuckin' big, man!) and these questions fade; they aren't answered, but they aren't prevalent either. I just see her and all the things we could do together; I see us. I'm aware it could all be a big fantasy that may never come to be (I'm not mental or anything :P) but it brings that smile I once had right back to my face. It's been a bit harder recently having not seen her for nearly three weeks now, but the power is still there. Hopefully, if I do end up with her (or anyone else, for that matter) we can stop the pendulum somewhere on this side -- as I said, it's heavy, so you'd probably need two people to stop it.

I'm evidently not taking my own advice with the "stopping the metaphor" thing :P

The real kicker comes when I come back to what I've always had and what will always be there for me; what will never die: comedy. As a writer and a performer, I'm always comparing myself to others at both an amateur and professional level, and this is what I've been using lately to bring myself back up to par. In my country, there's a national stand-up competition called "Class Clowns." Last year, when I was only just starting to write comedy, I put together a five minute performance of all the good jokes I had and presented them in the local heat. Now, remember: it's stand-up; you're going up there alone, without backup and without a safety net. It's do or die, and I... sustained minor injuries :P  At the end they basically said "you were pretty nervous, so we're gonna give this to the other guy -- however, your material left his for dead."

My material left his for dead, did it? Of course it fuckin' did! The other guy just did a shit-ton of racial and sexual humour; I can write that with my fingers sewn together! Wit, wordplay, intellect and the power of suggestion always triumph, and with a year of writing and performance experience under my belt (not to mention the "balls of steel" I now carry with me at all times :P) I can get in there and kick some fuckin' ass! I've watched the winners of the last two years' competitions, and while they were damn funny, I can point out performance and writing flaws in each one with regards to both relevance, cleverness, audience appropriateness and intellect. They made fun of topical stuff and teenage stuff: Facebook, isolated incidents of violence covered by the media, and celebrities. That material ages fast, and if you don't keep it up to date, it may not even last from the local heat to the grand final. My piece, whilst it does cover some topical issues (it's always good to talk about recent activity -- makes you look like you're committed to your routine) the majority of it is all about the English language, religion and women; three issues that won't be going out of style any time soon. That, coupled with the metal testicles (bleugh :P) should get me pretty damn far, so long as I practice.

I might not win though... gotta keep in mind that I'm not the only one in the country with comic talent... can't get over confident; pride cometh before the fall, and all that... oh shit, no no. Please Mr. Pendulum, don't fall, DON'T FALL! GODDAMN IT! COME BACK HERE! COME BACK HEEEEEERRRrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeee... !