Weekend Blues

"The mind of an introvert is like a hurricane that never ends."

- my last roommate, Sang. (or something along those lines as my memory's hazy.)

This blog is full of thoughts. When I'm not actively or passively thinking about some particular topic, I wind up thinking about how empty my mind feels, like it's been dulled or distracted or aimlessly meandering somewhere. And I end up feeling like I'm not really here right now, like I'm actually in some other world mentally, or some other plane detached from reality because I'm not capable of paying attention to anything around me.

Of course, it took a rather humiliating first snowboarding experience for me to actively notice this trend of thinking that's been cropping up every so often. Well, it's not like I hadn't noticed it before- I've probably mentioned it a bunch of times on this blog or something- but to connect it with the feelings of wounded pride, my tendency to overthink things in every situation, and another offhand conversation just earlier about the disconnect between what goes on in a person's mind and the words that come out of their mouth, it all kind of came together to the surface as I lay there in the snow, unable to get up because it hurt too much to. Snowboarding can be fun, but not so much and rather much more exhaustingly so when the only way you know how to stop sliding is by crashing and falling onto your arms and knees and then occasionally somehow flipping over and landing roughly on your ass [because no one really opted to take lessons and you have no physical intuition for these things].

At the end of a run I'd find myself spacing out at the bottom, not really able to do much else. I was running through my head all sorts of random explanations and scenarios, what kind of things I would say the moment I saw people again cause they'd all finished first. That part in the brackets above is my "official" explanation so to speak, the one that I finally came down to as a logical response to people asking how my experience was, because it's actually true for the most part and makes sense and if anyone actually asks me I'll probably say that. But it wasn't the only reasoning that came to mind.

The first one: "I'm not evolutionarily fit for this most physical activities." Mainly because of how slow I am in general to pick up on sports of any kind, and because having exercise-induced asthma limits the extent to which I can try. I am easily discouraged when I can't breathe.

Second: "I'm averse to physically risky activities and don't really enjoy this." Which then led to the inevitable question, "Why am I even doing this if I don't enjoy this?" To fit in because it sounds logical to try snowboarding at Tahoe in the winter if you've never done it before and most of your other friends are doing it? To be honest, in the days leading up to this I wasn't really looking forward to it or dreading it even - I just felt more apathetic overall.

Third: "I just naturally fail at this, like many things at life." I was reminded of my friend who likes to call me out when I fail at things (last time it was parallel parking, when I usually don't have that many problems parallel parking except for this time when this friend was in the car, because like all of my other failures in life, it had to happen only then) and who I may or may not have an unacknowledged grudge against in this respect. 

Fourth: "I didn't sleep enough, and my body feels sluggish right now and isn't really responding to what I want it to do." Which is kinda true; after each of the first two runs it took me awhile to just muster the energy to unlatch my boots from the board and get up. I couldn't even unhook it properly the first time and had to ask a couple of passerbys for help until one of them finally figured out that I was pressing the wrong object to unhook it. And then after the third run it took me a while to figure out how to take my helmet off after having already done it several times earlier. 

[I also didn't notice the first time around that there was a bar you had to lower over you to prevent yourself falling off of the skilift. Or rather, I was wondering why there wasn't a bar because I was sitting alone and didn't see it behind my head and mused 3/4ths of the way up that it would be really easy to just fall off right there and break my legs or something. I resisted the temptation to do so.]

Fifth: "There are too many damn people here." Which was also true; the line grew excessively long over the course of the day and from the very first part of the course onward I spent most of my time crashing because I was trying to avoid running into people, even as I got crashed into several times, once in the arm and another time in the leg from behind by a skier who fell while getting off of the skilift. And then another time as I was trying to walk back up the course a little bit to avoid sliding through the course boundary.

Sixth: "What have I been doing with my life?" When I think of my other friends who do this more often and enjoy it, and those who talk of buying snowboards and going again, when the thought of that doesn't really evoke much desire or interest in my mind.

Seventh: "I can't recall any of the how-to-deal-with-anxiety exercises we did." So much for small group. Or rather, I predicted this would probably happen because it's a lot harder to recall such things when you're really feeling anxious.

It feels sillier looking back on it all now. But in the heat of the moment when you're exhausted from crashing too much and also experiencing what feels like a rather shitty not-your-day- not to mention...

- failing at attaching my ticket to my jacket several times with the un-reusable latch thingies

- thinking I'd lost my goggles while I was wearing them

- having the skin on my knuckles get chafed off by the wrist guards I was wearing
- having dust and snow blow around my sunglasses into my eyes in the parking lot 

- witnessing a neighboring car door smack my car while I was inside it

- experiencing that evening what felt like the effects of a worsening alcohol allergy from a single Fireball shot: palpitating heart/head, difficulty breathing, shivering without feeling cold, and then a headache. Not that this hasn't happened before, but it happened a lot faster this time. I may just have to give up alcohol altogether (not like I'd be missing it much).

- "why are you always like this, Ryan?" 

  "I feel too hot; I just need some cold air right now."

...it just makes the doom and gloom depression feel all too real. I can say with a straight face in the midst of it that I'm just being overly dramatic and making a big deal out of everything and yet still continue to fall prey to my emotions and stress and pessimism, all over a simple snowboarding venture that would otherwise barely faze the likes of most other folks. It makes me wonder why I feel so out of place and disconnected from the experiences of everyone else, like I'm not really here (and then end up aimlessly thinking about that), and why I couldn't simply just fit in and enjoy this trip like everyone else. And of course why I think so damn much, when I don't really want to, because it makes me start to do weird and erratic things that make other people worry when I'm really just trying to clear my head.

It'd be easy to just focus on my raw emotions immediately as they happened, to end up calling this day one of the worst experiences I've had in a while because of how unenjoyable it may have felt a lot of the time and how much of it I spent worrying over how I might respond to people when they saw me. Would I be able to cover all of this up with a straight face, to play it off with the excuses I came up with, to convince them that their worries were really unfounded all along? (I was surprised at how much I was able to play it off, anyway... kinda.) 

But over the course of the day, I was pleasantly surprised by a friend reaching out trying to help me when I didn't realize I'd needed it, even if just for a brief moment. People who were willing to stand outside with me in the middle of the snowy dark night and just talk for a bit, who were nice enough to ask how I was doing (even though it might've felt a little redundant after a while... I hope I wasn't too worrisome), and a friend who was willing to stick it out with me on the course for a bit while I was trying to get up and failing... and then somewhat ineffectively coach me to go "LEFT! LEFT! LEFT!" when I had no idea what LEFT meant [with respect to my legs]. 

I don't regret the experience, or the chance to be able to share it in some way big or small with the other folks that went; I'm really thankful for it. But too often I am prone to focusing just on the bad moments or rather on the sheer weight that they seem to take on in my mind, as a way of centering my life on my own immediate emotional well-being, when there is so much more going on around me that I'm not even paying attention to. It's times like these where I wish my mind weren't so overactive, so that I could just relax and focus on the good for once. But that's just something I'm still learning to deal with even now.

It was difficult to consciously resist the temptation to just blow up at everyone and everything and make a scene or something like I might've done in the past- well in my case that tends to lead to me running away more than anything- but now, it all feels like a brief moment or footnote in time, and like the majority of thoughts it just goes by unnoticed mostly... which is fine, honestly. Just as this life is but a moment... or a dream.

"...to realize that all your life-- all your love, all your hate, all your memory, all your pain-- it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person."

- True Detective

This has been on my mind often lately - the sense that I place too much emphasis on the details of my own experience without acknowledging how much of it doesn't really matter that. As Cohle says on the show, we would like to think that our own lives are really that significant, that meaningful, largely in part because this life lived through our own eyes is the only thing we know. And a good deal of what I really felt this weekend amounted to me just selfishly wanting my own misery to be acknowledged by other people, as if that really mattered, and then worrying about how irrelevant my life felt when I couldn't communicate that and was afraid of alienating others. And this wasn't the first time either; it happens fairly often when I'm in social situations... only that it was more poignant this time around. Why do I get so hung up over these little things? 

I guess it's because... I'm human.

[And yes, I realize the length of this post is in itself a likely product of my overthinking mind, but that's just how I roll.]

of late (abstract thoughts and not).

More arbitrary and a bit longer than usual. Or maybe I'm being more blunt about what normally goes through my mind on a regular basis this time around; there is no method or order to the madness, or proper grammar usage because I just caught a sentence fragment in the first line of this post, and I don't care. Come to think, I'm not usually properly observing grammar in these posts anyway, so I don't know why I brought that up.

- Posters. After finally putting a few posters up that I've accumulated haphazardly over the years (Stars; two of Yo La Tengo; Homestuck; One Piece; and Nausicaa), I suddenly feel this compulsion to acquire more posters and put them up on ALL THE WALLS. I can't help but just stop and look at a poster sometimes, so I guess it's fitting to just surround the living area with them so I can just stare at them mindlessly whenever I feel like it... and I guess it's a way for me to express my favorite things upon my personal space, although I can't fathom a possible good poster for Planescape: Torment... other than the symbol of torment I guess.

(But I could easily create a shrine museum room dedicated to One Piece if I had the space and materials for it...)

- The auto-pilot won't stop. Or that is to say that I can't help but notice in the back of my mind how automatic more than half of my motions are these days. Routine becoming so second-nature that part of me wonders how it is I'm doing so much without actively being aware of what it is I'm doing. This is what it's like to live a life without reflection.

- I don't like the sound of my writing half the time that I read it. I'll probably dislike what's written here at least one out of the next 5 times I re-read this entry, probably more. Just like my somewhat excessively long goodreads reviews.

(I know that probably isn't actually the expected value if I dislike reading it half the time, but whatever. Ignore what I said if you haven't learned probability.)

- Had a discussion the other day about panic attacks, and after hearing a formal definition of what exactly a panic attack is, I realized that those few times I ran out of the apartment/club/etc. etc. in the past were essentially panic attacks. They say you shouldn't give in to the impulsive desire to escape wherever you are because it actually makes the attack worse, but uh woops, can't reverse that now.

- As much as I would like to think of myself as "open," there is a layer of thoughts that I apparently refuse to write here or even in my own personal physical journal- which I guess is partly why I don't feel anything whenever someone happens to grab my journal out of the blue. It's not like I really have anything to hide in there that I wouldn't be willing to talk about in person anyway. I'm aware of the existence of these other thoughts, but the idea of actually writing them down has never actually crossed my mind or even come close to doing so... although I am more aware of them whenever someone says something that causes them to cross my mind during conversation and I don't say anything, which seems to happen a lot these days.

- "You're good at being there for things."

I suppose it helps that I find it difficult to say no to people unless I already have a real reason to say no.

- Is it normal to be confused about being invited to one thing but not another involving the same group of people for the same related event? Even though I already had plans during the second one anyway, so it didn't matter...

- Sometimes I get the impression that there are other things I could be doing with my time. Take today, where I had no plans during the day and wound up not feeling like doing anything.

Well, other than take care of a few health issues that wouldn't really be appropriate for conversation with anyone other than a doctor...
and then put up the new Earthbound poster I acquired at the retro video gaming convention yesterday...
and then a map of the lands of Ice and Fire...
and then figure out how to get the late 1990's Carmen Sandiego games working on my Windows 8 laptop after randomly reminiscing about them while walking through the streets of downtown San Jose yesterday.

Protip: Windows XP virtual machine (the steps of which to get working would entail another blog post if I could still remember them). but anyway, THEY ACTUALLY WORK! and it occurred to me that these games are actually educational even for an adult; I didn't realize that Zaire had changed its name to the Democratic Republic of the Congo and not the other way around, because in 1996 it was still called Zaire and the game didn't know any better, but wikipedia did.

But I suppose I cheated by resorting to wikipedia in the first place, whereas elementary school-age me had no such resource and somehow managed to capture 50 villains and the elusive Carmen Sandiego on a first try anyway. but not the second time around because I didn't realize that EVERY suspect in the final area was identical to Carmen.

The point being, give me another carefree day and I'll clean the house for once. Probably.

- Note to past self: next time you open a brand new game case with a poster inside, put the poster back inside the case so that your future self six years later won't waste several hours tearing up his house looking for the damn thing, even though the very first thought he had was that it probably was in socal even though the case is up here and somehow that doesn't make any logical sense with his memories. Sincerely, your future self.

- We started a new series on anxiety in small group this past week, which feels hard to apply at the moment because the last time I legitimately felt anxious was more than a year ago when I was going through that panic attack-situational social anxiety phase, whereas lately I've been feeling anything but stressed. Granted, I've also been purposely not actively pursuing actions that would potentially add anxiety to my life that would otherwise be seen as desirable in the future, like say more schooling or a change in jobs or a sudden realization that would lead to a mid-life crisis. Maybe I should change that so this series would be more relevant-

but really, I feel like a more relevant series for me would be on a topic that wouldn't be as applicable to as many people (like some straight up basic fundamentals of theology that aren't directly related to apologetics, but I guess that's what seminary is for...?), so I rest my case for now anyway. I just think we take for granted something that most people can't really afford to do the same for, and it would be good reason to explore why.

- The reason why my posting frequency has gone down so much lately is that I don't have much novel things to say or write about lately that haven't already been said here before, or else I'm in the middle of another distraction already. Bravely Default and Pokebank and the new Wolf Among Us just came out, and I still haven't finished New Vegas yet...

- What do you live for, what do you believe, what do you need, and what do you want.

- I feel like I've already hit the point of being content with the status quo, except that it's really more of a fear of change from the status quo.

What I'm really afraid of is living with certainty on things I have no business of being certain about.

- The longer you [implied: 100% introvert] live alone, the harder it is to fathom the likelihood of wanting to live with another person again. Well, bar for some exceptions, anyway.

- It re-reoccurred to me the other day that the majority of what I feel like saying (in my head and written) doesn't really have much worth, except that there is value in the things I have to say sometimes. Whether or not this is one of those times is another story.

Well, in the greater scope of things it's all meaningless to some person anyway.

Shen-Yun

So apparently I've already developed a reputation on here to the point where people are expecting me to write reviews for the latest shows I've seen... I didn't realize haha. I've actually seen a number of shows already since the last couple of posts that I haven't bothered to mention or write up on here- partly out of laziness and partly because I have to be in a certain mood to write up those kinds of impressions to begin with, which doesn't happen often enough. I guess by request (this is for you, Becky) I'll do a bit of a write-up here, although more impression than review as judging dance productions isn't really my kind of thing. I'd be interested in hearing perspectives from actual dancers, though.

Most recently I was up in SF over the weekend to see the much fabled advertised Chinese dance production, Shen-Yun, with a few folks, and which if you didn't know already (or couldn't tell from how often people advertising it in the streets of SF will throw fliers at your face as you're leaving a theater production) is apparently run by some cultish Chinese offshoot of Buddhism/Taoism called Falun Gong/Falun Dafa that officially claims to not have anything to do with either... which is probably correct. This influence came across rather clearly in the production itself, what with almost all of the operatic songs (am I using the term correctly?) having propaganda-ish lyrics: "the world will be destroyed, and only after following Falun Dafa will we be saved!"... or something like that, don't quote me on it.

The dances themselves were the real highlight of the show, showcasing influences from what I guess would be fantastic stories in Chinese history and just the general culture of the laypeople, although considering who operates the show, it's bit hard to judge how accurate the stories are to the original... stories themselves I guess, without having foreknowledge of them. Regardless, I was entertained enough by the dances themselves; the production quality was pretty good and some of the visual effects the dancers pulled off with their props were mesmerizing in a way. The performers themselves are pretty talented at what they do. Better than what I would expect from a cult- okay fine, I'll stop saying that.

That said, the first time I saw a cartoon character in the background animation suddenly pop out from underneath the screen as a real-life person, it was a bit jarring, if not amusing.... actually, I'm not sure how well animation fits with historical interpretive dance anyway; considering the quality of the background animation, it felt a little unnatural if anything, looking more like a polished version of the kind of graphics you might see in a video game like Age of Empires... 2. Or maybe it's somehow more authentically Chinese that way- I don't know haha.

Some of the scenes depicted in animation were really weird, and part of me wonders if it's just a cultural thing or whether native Chinese would consider it normal for random ancient and modern Chinese laypeople and Buddhas to fly across the sky and slay dragons and battle toads with magical giant rings and invisible... whirlwind powers... or something. while dancing and somersaulting. I don't even know. Actually that description makes it sound more surreal and awesome than it really was. It was a bit more mixed in reality.

(For some reason right now I'm randomly reminded of the penultimate Avatar: The Last Airbender episode where the gaang see a hyper-exaggerated theatrical production based on their own travels over the course of last three seasons. Best episode ever, but besides that perhaps the same kind of analogous interpretation.)

Overall, I thought it was a worthwhile performance to see once as well as an excuse to dress up just for the heck of it. They said they change up the show every year, but I'm not sure if I'd be willing to see it again so soon given the price of admission (~$80) though.

Back.

It's been a while. Or at least it feels like it has been for me, anyway.

It's odd because I don't usually write here on any kind of pre-planned schedule so much as I just write when I find an occasion where I feel like it, which I've somehow managed to keep up over the course of the past 7 years. Perhaps longer if you include the old livejournal that I haven't looked at for a long time. I guess it's become sort of an ingrained habit by now to just write like this every so often, except for when I run into a dry spell like the last couple of months. I'll admit it, Pokemon really does a number on one's introspective life. But enough of that.

So in addition to this blog, I also keep a physical journal that I write in semi-regularly, although the character of the writing there is fairly different from what I have on here. For one thing, I'm used to going back and re-reading the posts I have on here, or perhaps more accurately scrutinizing what I've written and occasionally revising when I feel nitpicky about something, whereas with my journal I rarely ever go back and re-read what I've written. The difference being, I write posts here that I actually would enjoy reading later on, whereas what I write in my journal is generally spur of the moment and pure and unfiltered, without the option of revising or rewriting anything. (partly because doing so with a pen on paper is messy- but revising a journal kinda defeats the point of it being physical anyway.)

I actually didn't start out with this habit initially like I did with blogging- it sort of came about purely by chance, after a birthday gift one year; probably the best present I ever got (second place goes to the half-folding paper towels I got in the dorms for secret santa, hehe). I never saw myself as much of a journaler then, but somehow managed to start a routine where I now do it whenever I'm in a church setting with worship music playing. Something about the atmosphere just makes me more prone or open to doing it there and then- at the expense of not singing- and I often don't even feel like I'm consciously controlling what I'm writing... but I guess the whole mind-to-paper process is kind of a mystery to me anyway.

I don't usually like what I've written in the end, though. When I look down at it, I see my flaws at their worst- whatever it is I've been willing to put down anyway, because there are some things I still won't name even on paper- and the rambling, scattered, incoherent thoughts of a lowly, insecure person. Because ultimately I crave having the self-image of someone who is sophisticated in thought, in reasoning, and purpose, and my journal shows me to be none of these. I'm prone to seeing the same kinds of flaws in my words and thoughts that I find myself criticizing other people for internally (also in my thoughts) on a regular basis: flaws of ignorance, pride, and simple mindedness. And then I realize how full of myself I really am in the midst of all this self-criticism, as if possessing the sophistication of words will make me that much better of a person.

I haven't really written that much in it either. Just enough to get by every couple of weeks or so, which amounts to maybe 1.15 completed journals in the span of 5 years, and I just guesstimated there. That isn't very much considering other people I know of who can fill up multiple Moleskines or Piccadillys whatever brand it is they buy in a year (I'm using Ecosystem... not that this is an ad for them or anything...).

It occurred to me this morning that I should probably start journaling more often for my own sake- because the span of three-five worship songs in the rushed setting of a church service isn't enough time for me to get at whatever it is I need to get at when I'm writing, and besides my inner life has been largely on the decline since I started working. Too often lately I find myself thinking that I'm only getting by right now because I'm straight up ignoring my personal issues in my head, blithely preoccupying myself with being busy and focusing on the next big distraction of the week.

(which happened to be a season's worth of Doctor Who this weekend. it's been growing on me ever since I started watching the first (modern) season/series more than a year ago, and I think I finally hit that I'm-obsessed-I-need-to-watch-more sweet spot late in the second season.)

There is only so much time in the world. Only so much time to write, to work, to play, to travel, to live. And if I keep on going as I have been lately, living a life unobserved, then I will probably get to a point where I'm about to die and just realize, that's it? What have I really been doing with my life all this time? Whatever happened to dreaming of greater things and making them happen?

In all honesty the situation hasn't changed much from the thoughts I had after that retreat back in August. Just an additional few months of distractions to follow, some adventures made, things looked forward to that have passed. But I realized after the past few weeks, that too much fun and side-leisure has its downsides. I find myself missing the sense of accomplishment that came when I actually got work done that I felt invested in (and I mean both in and outside of work... if that makes sense), and felt productive in general.

In due time I may have other meaningful subjects to write about, but it depends on when I can get my inner life up to snuff. Time to wake up and starting moving around, for once. Or I guess in my case, sleep now and seize the day. In that order.

restless

I've had several posts in the works this past month or so, but none of them have really come to fruition. I haven't really been a mood for posting anything I write lately, mainly because perhaps there isn't much more to really write about that I haven't written before. It follows along with what I tend to say nowadays when people ask me about work: "work is work." And most of my time spent outside of work now is spent preoccupying myself with something or the other while skirting over whatever it is I intend to write about now. Which I don't really know yet, other than the fact that I can't sleep right now and don't really have the willpower to do anything else.

I don't remember if I mentioned it here before, but earlier this year I considered the possibility of seeing a therapist. Partly just cause it's nice to be able to talk about your problems for once without having to worry about infringing on someone else's time (since... that's what a therapist's job is, anyway), and partly because maybe I just really needed to be able to fully talk to someone for once. I never acted on that impulse, but I'm considering it again. I think going on for too long without addressing what your problems actually are is unhealthy and life-draining in the long run, or at least that's how it's been from personal experience.

When I'm conscious enough to notice it, I struggle with a number of insecurities about myself and a latent sense of anxiety, I guess. This year in particular, I've noticed it's led me to start internally (I don't think I let it on externally... much) making a big deal out of little things or take a situation out of proportion or sometimes go out of my way to do something I wouldn't normally do. Something as minor as someone not responding right away (screw instant messaging and its "seen at" notifications) is enough to bother me more than need be, or being next to someone continuously engaged in some conversation on their phone, or other circumstances not worth describing here.

And after a while, these kinds of unhealthy responses and the thoughts that motivate them lead to a warped view of the world. I don't know if I've ever felt so negative about people in general (at least in large groups) before, or so averse to being around them. It's almost as if I automatically assume the worst of anyone I don't really know (or used to know). Every little disappointment- because for some stupid reason I sometimes feel disappointed talking to people- just contributes to this damaging cynical mindset. As much as I wish I could be amiable in general, it's difficult when I'm not really feeling it a lot of the time.

The disappointment comes from people not conforming to the idealistic situations I might imagine in my head, or in those recent psychological dreams I've had that I've been too embarrassed to write about; from the responses I might hope to see but don't because a conversation just cuts short; from what I sense as a lack of total honesty from the person in front of me; from the realization of how much I dislike modern-day social conventions; from some missing quality in myself that prevents me from calling out whatever it is I'm not seeing and trying to making something of it.

And that's just... one kind of insecurity, actually. There's also the subtle feeling in the back of my mind that I'm totally inefficient at what I do; that I'm not living up to whatever it is I'd hoped to live up to in the past; and that I feel apathetic now about addressing a lot of the problems I see in myself and in life. A lot of the resolutions I looked forward to or attempted at earlier this year have fallen flat, and I just seem to be unable to commit myself to much of anything I want to. These days I tend to feel mentally lost and aimless... and prone to bouts of tiredness and headaches whenever I try to fix my sleeping schedule apparently. Technology isn't really helping me here.

Of course, at the end of the day I find myself incapable of articulating this to anyone... or perhaps I don't even want to, as it doesn't really come up in my head except for when I'm not talking to anyone. You would have to force me to confess, and then I'd have to think about it first because my mind doesn't work the same way in social conversation as it does when writing here or actively reflecting, and then maybe I'll feel comfortable enough to say something if no one else is around. And I'm just describing another one of those ideal situations in my head again. The reality is probably rather different.

And that was my attempt to somehow diagnose why my mind won't let me sleep without really going into explicit detail. I don't feel like I got very far... which is why I should probably carry through with that therapist thought sometime. Maybe.

consumption of late:

- Book: Anna Karenina, that Tolstoy novel about a woman and a man who commit adultery (and the repercussions of it which go on for another 700+ pages...). Tolstoy has a knack for putting into succinct words the complexity of social mannerisms and all of the mind games that people go through when they find themselves in this kind of a situation. And of course there's a bunch of other stuff that he has to say about Russian society in the 1900's and other topics like horseback racing and farming and the proletariat and so on that are probably tangential at best to the subject of the novel, but I guess that's Tolstoy for you. I'll start A Dance with Dragons as soon as I finish this...

- TV Show: The Venture Brothers. Starts out as a parody of the Johnny Quest cartoon series (what if the boy adventurer grew up and had his own kids... and got overshadowed by his own life) but then slowly becomes something much more than that. I caught up with the most recent season the other day and now I'm in the wait for the long haul now. The first season took some getting used to, but over the course of the ones that followed, the show shot up to becoming my favorite cartoon, even beating The Last Airbender (although granted, they're different genres). I might say that it reminds me of Archer, except with much nerdier humor and a more fully developed mythology behind the scenes. I'm starting to realize how much I love backstory in TV shows; it works surprisingly well here even though it's a comedy series.

- Games: Pokemon X, and then Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney: Dual Destinies. I kinda binge-marathoned through both of these in a span of about two weeks; I mentioned Pokemon in my last post already. The new Ace Attorney game was less about Phoenix than it really was about Apollo and Athena, but the seeing them all work together in their new law agency was a bit refreshing and I have high hopes for the future of the series. Found the game overall stronger than Apollo Justice, although in part because Apollo finally gets some much needed development here.

- Musicals: Evita in LA, Beautiful in SF.
Evita is an Andrew Lloyd Webber classic... and to be honest, I'm not hugely into his stuff compared to other composers. I had trouble paying attention during the first half owing to lack of familiarity with the story of Eva Peron (which a quick wiki during the intermission fixed), but I enjoyed it nonetheless overall. Couldn't help humming Don't Cry For Me Argentina for a while.

Beautiful is the new Carole King musical that debuted in SF and is coming to Broadway later. The style reminded me a bit of Jersey Boys (same-ish era, same-ish concept of singing classic old songs while going through the history of the artist), and I was surprised at how many of the songs I did recognize considering I didn't know much about Carole King before. Great for any oldies fan.

And that's it. Good night.

on a moment

I'm finding it such that I seem to not have much to say except when I'm feeling a little down or depressed. Not like chronic depression, but more like a random moment of a day or even a wholly random day where all of a sudden, I become aware of myself and start feeling out of it for no particular reason. Or maybe some small things will trigger it.

Existential loneliness. It's not that kind that comes about from a lack of relationships, but from some level of personal dissatisfaction with current circumstances, of recognizing that I can still feel lonely and empty in the midst of possessing relationships, where no relationship feels complete or "perfect." Or perhaps from finding a lack of something in myself that contributes to this.

It comes from moments like these when I'm tired and worn out after a long day, having come back from a 20 mile 30 lb backpacking hike over the weekend and finding myself incapable of walking, having had 4 hour's worth of sleep for no real valid reason, and suddenly realizing that I am mentally and emotionally incapable of really talking to people right now. Or that I've still failed to really befriend the people I've wanted to befriend, or that I'm finding myself incapable of really trying to empathize with whatever people are saying to me right now, of really listening and not just responding with auto-pilot single response comments, of really just being a friend. And I'm thinking to myself, is it because I'm tired, or because this is just the kind of person I am fundamentally inside, when I don't have the time or energy to put up extra facades or personas or whatever you call them?

I still get asked often, "Doesn't it get lonely living by yourself?" And I usually just respond with some half-assed response because maybe I'm tired of being asked it by now (despite it being a reasonable question to ask), and there is truth in saying that I'm used to it already, and that when I'm preoccupying myself with something like saying, blogging this right now, I don't really notice it. I would be fine just living like this day after day - it's just when I'm inadvertently alerted to or somehow notice the frequency other people seem to be able to keep up with each other and with how many of them at once, and start wondering if I'm doing something wrong by going for most of a day without talking to anyone outside of work circumstances. And I wonder if I just give off that vibe to people that I prefer to do my own thing sometimes, unintentionally or not.

(also: "You always look tired when I see you." - oddly, I never notice when I look tired, since half of the time this happens, I don't actually feel tired so much as I just feel... normal. someone explain to me, please.)

Maybe it's just jealousy at seeing some quality in others that I don't have, wishing that I weren't so stuck in automatic introvert mode almost all the time and that I had the energy to actually convey to people that I'm enjoying myself when I'm with them even during those times when I'm not saying anything at all or look like I'm just not enjoying myself. Wishing that in spite of that urge I naturally feel to run away from awkward moments and get back to my own world, that I could still convey to the other person that the desire for friendship still exists. Wishing that I could just be honest about what I'm feeling at a certain moment without having to worry about losing or alienating people for fear of awkwardness or back-talking and gossip or that contributing to continuing to miss out on whatever's going on in other people's lives. Wishing that lack of contact frequency didn't translate to lack of depth in a relationship or some level of "you never talk/hang out with me" just because I never know what to say to people when I wanted to talk to them (and then those few times where someone asks me why I wanted to talk to them. do I need a reason why? because I think you're cool, I guess?)

I don't mean for this to be such a downer of a post, but just felt like getting this out there. Sometimes I just feel inexplicably sad all of a sudden for no apparent reason and I am unable to convey it in person to anyone, except that in the process of processing and writing it out here I actually don't feel sad anymore. It's kind of like what Louis C. K. said with just letting the existential sadness just wash over you in that moment and it triggering happiness again. I am happy with just being here, now.

Anyways, back to Pokemon! It occurred to me the other day that Pokemon fulfills my compulsion to schedule plan since the process of putting together a team I actually like that works takes about as much time and research as it took me to create all of those schedules I made for majors I wound up not taking in college. Which is also why I get burnt out on it after beating the elite four and champion in the game I'm playing and wind up not touching one for another two years, just in time for the next versions to come out. But anyway, I'm really digging the new games right now; it's like a handheld realized version of the battles from Stadium.

Sleep No More

http://sleepnomorenyc.com/

So I was in New York this past weekend (it was awesome! more on that another time), and I wound up seeing the production Sleep No More last night before leaving. It's a bit hard to describe, but at best I would put it as an immersive noir play experience set across 5 floors of a hotel building. The story's loosely based on Macbeth combined with elements of Hitchcock films, most notably Rebecca, and some elements taken from Vertigo (like the name of the hotel, the McKittrick. they also play the theme from the movie during a few key scenes).

The way the production works is that the audience members are given white masquerade-style masks to wear throughout the show, and then are randomly introduced into the hotel itself from the elevator in groups at a time on different floors. Everyone is pretty much left to explore the hotel at their own volition, with the chance of randomly encountering actors (anyone who isn't wearing a mask) in rooms or running across the hotel and its stairwells. The location itself has the atmosphere of a glorified haunted house (or the Tower of Terror from Disneyworld/land), except the environment with the music is more creepy and dark than it is haunted; there isn't anything out rightly frightening or jump scare inducing so much as it just feels tense and eerie, which I like more.

The main storyline of the performance actually loops around each hour for a total of 3 cycles, although I think I only managed to catch wind of the actors during the second cycle, as much of the first hour for me was spent waiting to get into the hotel itself and then orienting myself with the surroundings. I was only partway through exploring the second floor I was on before running into an actor, after which point I lost track of where I was pretty fast since I was too busy focusing on trying to catch up with one of the actors. It can get annoying with the number of audience members they let into the hotel, which often results in other *cough slower* people getting in your way, and I was half-apologizing (silently because you aren't allowed to talk) for running into people and tripping over their feet a lot. The fact that most of the staircases are only big enough for single/double file doesn't help so much when thirty people are all trying to catch up with the same actor at the same time. No wonder the show sells out all the time.

Given that you have events happening across all floors of the hotel at the same time, it's pretty much impossible to experience the entire thing in one performance, and in that sense it might be more stress-inducing for people who are prone to feel anxiety about missing out on the best parts. Not to mention, it's kinda pricy to see the performance more than once, but judging by reviews online there seem to be quite a few people that do that, to the point where they generally know where to go and at what times. I'd say the highlights of the experience, or what most people talk about after, anyway, are most of the scenes taken from Macbeth itself, so if you stick to following him at least for 1 whole cycle, you'll get the gist of what's going on and then it's better to deviate from there to see the rest of whatever action is going on. There was a whole other subplot going on involving the Rebecca inspired characters that I didn't really quite get, and I ran into them first. One of them actually led me into a Macbeth scene, after which point I was pretty much following Macbeth and related characters for the rest of the night because they struck me as generally more exciting to follow at that moment.

The experience will probably vary by person, and to some people the acting might come across as too exaggerated and the overall deal overrated and priced, but I honestly found it a worthwhile experience at least for the novelty of it all... Although Justin did tell me it sounded like a very Ryan-thing to go to. >_>

What follows are spoilers for the production as I try to recall everything I saw that night. It's interesting to compare with the impressions other people have written online; I've been starting to make sense of what scenes I actually did manage to see and which I didn't. It gets confusing sometimes since you aren't given any context for who a particular actor is initially when you run into them; I didn't recognize who Macbeth was until I came across him a second time in a scene that made it pretty obvious. (And if you don't know the story of Macbeth beforehand, it's probably even more confusing.)