Lines

I find some kind of cold comfort equating maths to life. I think it's because of the kind of structure and comprehensible understanding of the universe it offers.

I was thinking about this particular thought during lunch time today:

Everybody's a line. Not necessarily a straight line, but a line of some sort. And each of our personal functions interact with each other in some way.
More likely than not, we're tangents to each other. We in this case being everyone in existence. I say we're tangents because we have the potential to get close, really close. Yet in the end we will never touch, because that's the curse of tangents. Negative or positive, infinity or one, there will never be true contact.
There's normals too, friends of friends and such. Normals intersect tangents, so now we're moving into complete relationships. Someone's normal is another's tangent. We're all of them at the same time. It just depends what perspective we're looking through.
Interesting lines occur sometimes. Maybe at one point in your life, maybe multiple. It depends on when and where you are I guess.

Do lines end when you die? People can still interact with your corpse or memory even if you aren't still around. So in a sense, maybe they don't end? I'm not actually sure. Maybe your line ends, but others just have the potential of intersecting. Or at the very least be a tangent. Maybe if I worked as a gravedigger for 30 years I'd have a better idea on lines after death.

Ah well. I'm on the bus hone right now. I thought writing all of this would help pass the time. Guess it did. There's tangents all around me. I don't know anything about them and they me. But there's potential to get close. Even knowing someone's name counts as moving closer. I don't believe in destiny or faith though. So who am I to say the chances of intersecting with others is slim? Ah, I don't know.

God damn.

What am I doing?

Love?

Yeah, I should be sleeping right now. But I'm thinking too much for that.

Sometimes, for some reason, it's hard to just not get consumed by it all. All of the disdain, the cynicism, the total hatred that I've come to find easy to accept. Easy to accept, but also to hide. It's a terrible habit I suppose, but it's a lot easier pretending than facing the ugly truth.

I think it might stem from having a hard time admitting I love things. I'm not sure why, but it's always, for as long as I can remember been difficult to simply say I love something or someone. Even to say it to my own family (who I do love by the way...) is hard. I suppose it's easier with inanimate objects. But animate ones.. That's a different story. Maybe I'm scared to openly commit to something like feelings first? That's probably pretty natural.

From what I've come to understand about myself, is that I'm a guy that thinks in absolutes: Success or failure; love or hate; right or wrong. You get the picture. And while I do definitely understand the idea of "middle grounds" and "grey areas", it just seems easier to be able to sort things into two categories. Rather than a billion. I can comprehend things a lot better when they can be counted on my fingers.. But now that I'm thinking, there are definitely things that I don't really mind as well. Not hate or love. Just ambivalent. So I guess that's three categories then. Hey, at least it's all still on one hand.

So why is it so damn hard to admit love? Even typing it I'm kind of screwing up my face a little, like I accidentally wrote a rude word that I hope no one sees. It's probably multiple reasons. I'm not going to list them out because I don't think it's necessary. Although my normal course of action is to identify problems and then blast them out of existence once I've got them under a microscope, I don't think that method would really work. But then I don't know what would. "You can't spend your life waiting for someone or something else. The potential for action is in your hands and your hands only. If you can't trust yourself to do something, you'll never truly be able to trust anyone to do anything." I don't know who said that, if anyone, but I put it in quotation marks anyway, because it sounds like something long winded some old philosopher or crazy guy would say.

I just needed to write all of this down. One day I'll be old, and I can look back on stupid ramblings like this and laugh to myself: "So this is what I wasted my time thinking about when I was a teenager!" Hah. I can totally imagine myself saying that.

Part One: Cheese

Her smile cut through me like a serrated knife.

From my brain to my gall bladder, I was a bloody mess. I stumbled back carelessly as I fell to my knees from the shock. She just stood there, smiling.

"What do you want from me?" I manage to squeeze out, before coughing more blood. She just continued to smile. It was amusing to her that my internal organs were collapsing. I was folding in on myself, paralyzed with the fear of looking up at her face again. But I did it anyway. I peered up, slowly, cautiously, expecting the worse.

But she was gone. An empty park bench was all that remained. So I crawled back onto the seat, left with my thoughts and the sound of a magpie attacking a young boy behind me. The park always seemed so beautiful in the morning. That's why I came out here in the first place; to watch the sun rise. That crispy golden ball in the sky, creeping up the horizon like a blazing round dinner plate. Magical. Simply magical.

Naturally, a few hours passed in a matter of seconds. That was when I began to wonder where Mary went. I had to be careful, because I don't know whether or not I'd be able to handle seeing her face again. She's been popping in and out for a while now. I would say five months. Maybe six. Never seen her before in my entire life before then. I don't even know her real name. I just call her Mary because I think it suits her eyes. Not that I've actually been able to see her eyes for more than a few seconds before completely collapsing. I swear, I'm not like that with girls normally. But Mary's different. I've never even heard her say a word. Not one. But if just looking at her makes me feel like my small intestine is being jammed inside my large one, then I probably don't want to find out what hearing her is like.

Caught up in my own thoughts, I didn't notice a feminine figure sit beside me. I casually looked to my right, surveying the now mid-day park. We locked eyes.

Shit.

Hang it up now or never.

I swear, these bugs are getting on my nerve.

They're purple with jagged green lines down their thorax. They like to fly around my face and into my ears. I've tried to leave my room, but they bite me every time I get close to the door. So I'm stuck in here with nothing but a computer and an entire recording set and my homework and some handheld video games and a potato. No one can help me because no one can hear me. The insects swing their wings so loud it's deafening. Sometimes the vibrations make me feel delirious, and I forget who I am.

Who am I?
Who are you?
Fuck you.
Fuck me?
Well, if you insist.
Holy shit, you actually took me seriously? Hah! What a chump.
I'm not a chump.
That's exactly what a fucking chump would say.
Where exactly are you going with this? Because I don't really like this vibe you're giving me.
Oh shut up.
Okay.

...

Silence filled the air as I stared at myself. It looked like I won the argument. But then again I made some pretty good counter-arguments. All that was left behind from the wreckage of the conversation were glazed over eyes and a smirk that gave off a hint of unhappiness, behind a mask of nothing. The air was filled with a pungent, yet somehow familiar scent. Kind of like sweat mixed with two day old deodorant remnants.

There's another bug on my face. It crawled into the space between my right eye and my eyelid. This particular bug was quite small. What was interesting was that I could actually see it for a while in front of everything. It took up my vision. Encapsulated my world. Then I came back into the picture.

What are you looking at?
You, I guess.
How many fingers am I holding up?
Three. No, no, wait, four.
Good. Your eyes seem to be working again. You had me worried for a minute there.
Nice to know someone cares.
Hey, you know me, I'll be there.
You sure will. If there's someone I can depend on, it'll be you.
You know it, man. Anytime, anywhere.
I think I should go to bed now, if you don't mind me cutting this short.
No problem, I'll just be on my way too. You know it's only 5:09 though, right?
Yeah, I know. But I've just been so tired lately.
Don't let the bed bugs bite.
I'll try. But they're kind of everywhere.
When you wake up tomorrow, everything will be better. I promise.
Hah, fat chance.

That's when I turned off the lights and slipped on the bathroom floor. Blood pooled in the corner, as it almost gracefully sunk down the drain. The bug that went up my eye came out of my arse five days later. It was surprisingly clean.

Thursday Morning

I'm not tired but I can't get out of bed. My stomach feels sick to the core, but then so does everywhere else. Things either seem bleak or bright. It seems I'm incapable of comprehending a middle ground. Now I don't know what to do and the world is folding in on itself, while I'm helplessly paralyzed; stuck with the questions of "what can I do?" and "what should I do?"

I'm not tired but my eyes don't want to open.

All Dayer

So, my experiment was very interesting indeed.

Everything I predicted was the exact opposite that happened in reality. I should have known though, really, shouldn't I? It was a bold move, trying to think of it positively. But oh well, like I said, it was an experiment. Now I know that staying up all day doesn't instantly make you awesome. Maybe it did when you were 12. But the times have changed, my friend. The times have changed.

Tomorrow is gonna be another all dayer. Just like all of my life up to now. Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to be nocturnal. Not like fake nocturnal though, where you just stay up really late and then sleep for a few hours and then live during the day too. But full on nocturnal, where you live your life in the dark and you sleep during the day. I think it would be interesting to re-adjust your body clock like this. I've actually got an uncle who works in this cold storage place for food in Australia, and he is nocturnal, because his job demands it. It's interesting because his wife, my aunt, is diurnal. So they only live during the same time frame the few moments before either of them goes to bed. Seems to work for them though.

Maybe this longing for something different is just because I'm getting restless. Don't get me wrong though, I'm content with this diurnal lifestyle. But I still want to experience other things. Even if it's just for a moment in time. At least I can then say to myself: "Yeah, that's right. I did that for a while." I don't how well that speaks of me living in the long-run. But oh well!

All Nighter

Hmmm, you know what would be interesting?

Staying up all night from dusk till dawn and not sleeping at all tonight, and going to school without having any sleep in the last twenty-four hours. I think it would be interesting, because people tend to be far less cautious when they're tired. There's less feelings of inhibitions. Well that's the case for me anyway. Maybe it would make me more confident to speak up in English class? Or maybe it would finally awaken the part of my brain that all the Spanish I've learnt has sunken into. Maybe economics will be amazing and fun? Maybe assembly won't seem so boring and drab and artificial, because I'd be too tired to notice and/or care about something as minute as assembly? Maybe biology will be as good as it always is because, to be honest, I rather like biology a lot. In case you didn't know. Yeah, all this talk makes having an all nighter sound incredible. Maybe I should try it? As nothing more than a social experiment conducted on myself. Then I'll just sleep when I get home. After I write about my findings of course. It could end in tears, or it could end in tears. But either way, I'll probably be crying. So let's see what happens. I'm pretty damn excited now.

I was gonna ask "Aren't you too?" but then why would you be? It's not like you'd be staying up too to be part of the same experiment.

I had a rather bad dream last night that I don't really want to get into. But it involved someone who I didn't expect to die, and that really caught me off guard.

Alright. See you tomorrow then.

PTD

So, I've been looking into these things called "Negative Thought Distortions" over the holidays. I think I've mentioned them before. Fundamentally, they're a thought that is coloured too negatively, out of proportion to what the reality of a situation is. But, from everything I've read, all of the answers were just "get a positive attitude" or "look on the bright side". So I did that actually, and I think I found a good balance between negativity and reality somewhere along the line.

But none of the websites I saw talked about the opposite part of the spectrum to negative Thought Distortions; Positive Thought Distortions. People don't tend to place "positive" thoughts in a negative light (obviously). But, they can be just as detrimental.. I think what can happen is that, if you get too caught up in trying to throw away bad thoughts and instantly think of positive alternates, then there's going to be the same mental distortion that's created when your logic is clouded with negative thoughts. And really, in some cases, I think PTDs are potentially far worse to go through, because instead of having lowered expectations and a meek outlook on the future and past like you do with NTDs, you've got high expectations, and a general euphoric elatedness going on. Since you're so "happy". But then once reality hits, you realise that you've overestimated reality, so your "positive attitude" doesn't seem so positive anymore. Then after hitting this brick wall, it's easier to fall into a relapse with NTDs, since expectations are lowered again. In a way it makes it harder to trust yourself too, because it's such a fine line between a beneficial positivity and one that's totally overshot and crazy in hindsight.

I just think it's really important to mention the idea of PTDs, because just from all the overly positive articles I've read, they seem to think being negative is the only thing you have to worry about. Which just isn't true. So I don't know if the writers of those articles just don't want to make their whole "be positive" spiel seem less impressive so they don't mention PTDs too, or if they've just genuinely never thought about it. Maybe it's something that doesn't need to be said. But I'm saying it anyway. So if some random person looking up negative thought distortions sees this, maybe they can help themselves in a safer way. Saves them from learning the hard way.

In the end though, reality is what we make it out to be anyway. Just kidding. That's total bullshit and anyone with half a brain would realise that. Unless you've got a mental condition that lets you see the world how you want it. In that case, sorry. But I doubt the majority of people who will read this will have that. Ahh there I go getting off on a tangent. I tried so hard to stay focused on this post.

OKAY! Back to the point.

In conclusion, managing balanced expectations is the best way it seems right now to be as happy as you can be, without going overboard.

Bed time now.

Beaver Syndrome

I sometimes wonder what the difference between me and John Beaver is. Besides our initials being reversed and him calling his mum "mumsy", is there much? He's a parasitic socialite that feeds off social interaction that others give him, while he is incapable of giving the same to others. I know I'm not the exact reflection of his character. But I can see how if I'm not careful i could easily slip into that mold. And it's kinda worrying, because i hate that guy. It's a slippery slope I'm on now. I guess doing shit in the one thing you think you're good at can just kinda make this happen. Oh well. I've had a good talk with a good friend and that's put my mind much mire at ease. So thank you for that. But i'm still so surprised gist has had this kind of an impact on me. Maybe it's the wake up call I need? Then again, I never thought I needed one to begin with.

Oh dear.

Every day I love you less and less.

Don't you just hate it when your face starts bleeding? Me too. I don't mean nose bleeds or anything, just face bleeding. Hmm, it really does suck. You know what else sucks? Having another biology test tomorrow. But it's okay, because I'm confident about it. Just need to catch up a bit more on evolution, and everything will be in the bag. The metaphorical bag, of course. Because I don't think I own a bag that can fit everything. Maybe Doraemon's pouch, but then that's still not really a bag.

The Kasier Chiefs are an interesting gem that I accidentally stumbled upon the other day. I'm glad I did,   because now there's yet another band that I can learn from! So much to absorb when it comes to music and composing. I get kind of excited just thinking about the possibilities. Of course, it's one thing writing about writing music, and it's another thing actually writing the damn music that I can be fully proud of and say: "Yeah, I wrote that." It's all part of the learning process though. Getting duds. I'm pretty sure all the bands I've listened to have written a lot more songs than they've released, but scrapped because they didn't represent what they want to say. It didn't do fully do them justice. I'm feeling that with the old music I've written. There's not enough thought put into it, not enough actual creative intent. It's just chords with a shaky melody pasted on. I need to figure out how to make everything cohesive, and sound like everything is put in there for a reason.

Well, that's what college is for I guess. I've decided I'm going to do my bachelor degree in composition in Singapore first, and then do my masters in Chicago. Then, if everything goes to plan, springboard my career as a freelance composer/band guy from there. Only time will tell I guess. But I'm pretty excited.

Whatever happens, it'll be a lot better than a bleeding face.

Bad Sign

All my time has turned to days that I will waste until my dying day.

That's a song by the way. Bad Sign, I mean. It's by Brad Sucks, and I like it. I'm listening to it right now. You should look it up. If you feel like it. Up to you, really. I won't mind either way.

So apparently, I think I've come to the conclusion that I must just naturally give off these strong "I don't feel like talking to you" vibes. Because, it even managed to get through to my own therapist. So she ended my session early this Monday, because she thought I didn't want to talk. The ironic part is though, she didn't tell me she felt that way, she told my dad when I left the room and he entered after me. It's ironic, because those vibes that she was picking up is something we should have really talked about, you know, so maybe I could figure out a plan to try and fix that. But, no.

I just thought, it must be really bad, because I was able to convince someone who is paid to talk to me to not talk to me.

So, guess I should apologise if that seems to be how I am. All "I don't feel like talking". Maybe it's my face? I don't know. Well, okay I don't apologise for it, because it's not intentional. But if it ever looks like I don't want to talk, it probably means I do want to. Because opening mouths and projecting sound from the larynx can be fun. Especially when the sounds can be interpreted as some form of language. Preferably English, because my Spanish is still rubbish and I can't remember very much Japanese or French any more. Thankfully, I can still read Japanese though. That's been embedded in my head for ever I think.

Well I have a biology test tomorrow that I will do moderately okay in, like every other biology test. Hah! Just joking, of course. It's time to be confident. This is the confidence paragraph. If you read everything I said in a mopey voice, then stop now and re-read it like someone who is quietly confident, and knows their shit. Go on, re-read it. I'll wait for you. Okay, done? Probably not. Like you'd re-read it. You're fare too busy reading this sentence right here. And here. And here. And here. And here. And I'll stop now, because I was about to go into an infinite loop. And this is not the infinite loop paragraph; this is the confidence paragraph. I will try my best for the biology test tomorrow, and that will present me with a score that, to me, is deemed awesome. Why? Because I know I tried my best on it. And that's all you can do with these things. Unless your goal is to not succeed, which in that case, you'll be succeeding in failing. So you still win regardless!

Okay then, that's enough for now. I still have to start my study for bio!
Haaaahahaaahahahhahahahaahahah. Totally kidding. I've been studying today. Sure I have. You doubt it? Well, me too! So I guess that means we're on the same page.

What are you waiting for? Close the page already.

Twitch

Today and yesterday, the muscle around my right eye area has been twitching a lot, just at random times during the day.

I don't know what's causing it, but it's getting kinda annoying. It normally goes away if I rub my eye for a while.

Twitches are just muscular spasms from confusion in the nerves. So I guess just my general confusion on life has physically manifested. Hah, so stupid. But you never know. Maybe the spiders living inside my head were busy Friday night rewiring my nerves.

It'll be interesting to see if this continues or just goes away. I'll keep you posted, cause I know you give a shit.

Run

So I just checked my facebook's "General Account Settings", and I noticed for the first time what the link to my wall is. It's your standard affair, facebook dot com slash my name, but then, I noticed a number next to it. It says 5220. Now, I can only assume that that means I am the 5220th Bryce Johnson to have made a facebook account. It got me wondering what all the other people with my name are like. But then I quickly grew bored of that idea and through it away in the bin in my bathroom. There's a lot of people in this world, and according to facebook, I know 266. Now of course that's a lie. But it's never really bothered me that much until today. The meaning of the word "friend" has diminished a lot according to this video by Vsauce I watched just now. And to be honest, that kind of disturbs me. I don't like the feeling of pretending to know even half the people on that list. I don't know them and they don't know me, and I'm fine with that. But what I'm not fine with is masquerading with it, being updated every time someone who I've forgotten about three years ago does some minuscule thing. I think what really bothers me though is that I've got real friends that I do care about, and they're in that same list as everyone else, and I don't think they deserve that, since they mean way more. It's kind of insulting to them really. And yeah, that's totally my fault (and Joe's) for accepting the people in the first place, but I'm not going to trawl through it picking and choosing who I want to stay in contact with. If we're real friends, we'll have other means to communicate besides facebook, so who cares? So screw facebook and social networking that promotes creating fake connections with strangers. I'm out.

White Noise

It's not physically possible to study in my room. There's just way too much distraction. Everywhere. It's like, when you turn on a TV and it's got white noise covering the whole screen. That's how much distraction is in here. This is one of those distractions. I mean really, just my computer in general. I'd say the computer makes up about 35% of the distraction ratio in here. Then my guitar takes up about 56.97% of it. That's a pretty big part. Oh, and then there's my phone too, ya know texting and whatever, so that takes up about 20.43%. But then that follows me around anyway. So whenever I'm walking around in the world, I'm always carrying a potential 20.43% of distraction with me. Hmm, my bed is also in my room (no shit), and that can be a distraction too. Especially when it hasn't been made, so it's all inviting and ready for me. So I'd give that a 12% because I don't really nap that much.

Now if you're one of those people who actually bothered counting up all those percentages, you may find that they don't add up to 100. That's because, I just put up random numbers. I had the good intentions of trying to make them all sort out neatly, and they're all crazy fractions, but no. Just no. Not this time. No effort from me. I'm just far too distracted. Ooh look, a text.

So today was the first day of mocks. WOOP WOOP. Not bad, not bad. I normally do pretty terribly on exams when I think they're "not bad", but oh well. I'm just gonna go with it. I think Spanish is gonna be the hardest. And that's on Friday. That's also the day I'll be getting my haircut. I'm thinking of getting it exactly how it was last time I got it cut, because I'm a creature of habit. Terrible. What a terrible attitude! I need something different. Something to reflect my mood of late.

Woah I just realised something. Why is the g in sign silent, but in signature it isn't? I just love all the inconsistencies of this language. Well, of any language really. I think it's kinda endearing. Okay I'm not going to go more into that, because I tried to just then, but I bored myself to sleep.

Holidays are dangerous for people who live in their head I think. It's mainly because, when you're away from the schedule you're used to, and the people you see and interact with daily, it's easy to forget who you are, and how you are in reality. It's really easy to remember yourself differently than how you actually are. So you're able to build yourself up in your head, thinking you're this totally different person inside, but then when push comes to shove, and you're put back into that same groove you went away from for 3 weeks, you suddenly smash into the brick wall of reality. All that mental preparation you've done is pretty much flushed away, and in the end you are who you were three weeks ago, except you forgot to manage your expectations, and let yourself forget who you are. And yeah, yeah, I know that all this mental change stuff is only able to be possible by the individual in question and no one else, but it doesn't change the fact that it can be hard readjusting yourself. I'm assuming this really only happens to people who live in their head, because they'd internalise everything, reflect on them, and then as a result make weird expectations that, when you look back on them, seem pretty ridiculous.

But that's just how it goes sometimes.

Neg

So I haven't shaved since the holidays started. Hasn't really felt like I've got a reason to. So now I've got this pretty wicked moustache that makes me look like an aficionado of something. Maybe fine wine. Or comic books. Hahaha, yeah, I think a slimeball's moustache better labels my facial hair. Like one look at me with this on, and you KNOW I'm gonna rip you off. What a scumbag.

You know, I think lately during this holiday I've been putting my self in a sense of false security. Like I've been really positive and happy. And when a bad thought does come around, I'm able to catch myself out on it, chalk it up to a negative thought distortion, and actually get rid of it. But I think I've been forgetting on important fact:

The world is a sick machine breeding a massive shit.

And really, it's only a matter of time before another big piece of shit drops out of nowhere. And it's always around this time too. Like just after the holiday. I think it's because I'm away from everything in normal life during the holidays. So I'm able to recuperate and gain some kind of positive outlook. But then I forget another simple fact. Once I'm back in school, everything will be exactly the same. Any kind of development I think has occurred normally always disintegrates, sometimes in a couple of days!

Now that I've written this out, I realize this is obviously a negative thought distortion. But I can't help feeling it sometimes. It's not like there's any way i can really know what'll happen. So I gotta sink this sinking feeling.

Okay, there. Bye.

Real Reality Realty

It's good to have a reality check every now and then I guess.

What's my reality?

School starts in 6 days.
I haven't remotely properly studied for anything.
I may or may not be too late for applying to my Uni.
I'm in the Cameron Highlands now, and couldn't bring any school work. (Not that i'd really do anything anyway; let's be honest here)
I really like Muse. Never really took the time to listen to them before, and I'm impressed. It's really obvious they've got some Classical inspiration in their music. I think I want to end up making music like that. But maybe more jaunty, kinda cutting yet bouncy? Maybe.
I have actually fully composed a group piece of music with 2 friends, and finished it. Which means it IS possible to actually do it. Good to know. Hopefully it won't be the last song I finish.
I've finished a book today called "The Game". It was about the secret (not so secret anymore) lifestyle and community of PUAs. And it got me thinking. I'm an AFC. And I've definitely got one-itis. The PUAs look down on that kind of stuff, and try to help "cure" guys like me. Well that's what the community was like when the guy who wrote the book first got into it. It quickly evolved into something a lot more different. At first it was about camaraderie and helping each other out, but then it was quickly enterprised. There's a whole ton of companies out there now that specialise in teaching the art of pick-up. Not something you hear everyday, huh? But it's a real thing. The book was very similar to Michael Ondaatje's Running in the Family actually. Like, I could see this book becoming a recognised IB study book in a couple of years. Damn. I would have loved to do my IOC on it.
I'm not nervous about the mocks. Calm before the storm? I don't know.
I've just realised I've developed this subconscious psychological tool to help me when talking to people. I do this thing where I imagine me and whoever I'm talking to are the only people in the universe. It really helps my focus. Hard to do in a group, but it is possible to adapt it. I don't do this all the time I think, but when I'm stressed, it seems to work. Most of the time.

That's it. This is my reality right now.

Oh, I also forgot to take care of a certain Potato in my room before I left. While I was there, the Spud had grown several disgusting growths on it's body, like some sick plant-like cancer. I touched it and I felt like throwing up. It's face is still there, but distorted by it's cancer. Maybe that's why I haven't touched it since.

What's your reality?