What I Want

I used to think a lot.

Now, when I say 'a lot', I want to make sure you understand exactly what I mean. The fact is, there have been many times in my life where I had few or no friends. I would have absolutely nobody to socialize and share my thoughts with. Because of this, I spent a large amount of time alone, my thoughts compounding on themselves, echoing in my head, distorting themselves and each other, becoming twisted and gnarled until I had no idea where my train of thought had taken me.

My mind has calmed down since then. I have friends now. I talk to people, I do things that drown out the cacophony in my head.

I still think, though. Not all the time, but sometimes. Something that wanders into my head every now and then is what I want. Not what I want in general. I wonder that, but I've decided I won't figure it out by thought alone. What I spend time thinking about is exactly what I want out of the Internet. The Internet has done a lot of great things for me over the years. It's killed countless hours of my time. It's gained me friends. It's taught me things I'd never think to ask about. (I'm looking at you, Wikipedia.) Now it's led me to a community of which I am happy to be a part. YouTube. It extends onto a few other sites, like Twitter and Dailybooth, but the focal point is YouTube.

As I spent more and more time watching videos, I found the people that interested me, like everyone does. I subscribed, and when they recommended someone, I checked them out too. This has gone on pretty much since I made my account. Now, in the time I've been a part of the community, I've noticed these interpersonal connections that have formed between YouTubers. these are people who have probably never met IRL, but they behave like friends. This was a pretty strange concept to me at first. These people would watch each other's videos, decide the person interested them, and just make contact.

Does that seem really strange to anyone else? I don't think we have anything like that IRL. If you want to get to know someone, you have to talk to them. For long periods of time, even. YouTube lets you skip a lot of that. It's like a cheat code.

I love it.

These days, I do that with pretty much anyone I meet online. Usually they'll link to their YouTube channel or their blog from their Twitter page, and then I just watch their videos or read their posts. Videos are better, of course. As an actor, I've learned to pay close attention to little things, like how much people use their hands when they talk, how much of their face they emote with, and little features like laugh-lines. Seeing the way people talk tells me at least as much as what they're actually saying. I have the exact skill-set needed to properly use this cheat code.

I digress. This post isn't about how I cheat at getting to know people. It's about the people. I see these friendships link to other friendships, and become these tight-knit little groups. I love the dynamic of these groups. VlogCandy, VlogVetica, FiveAwesomeGirls, all of those. These people, brought together by fate, God, whatever you want to call it, just hanging out over the Internet.

I think, more than anything that's what I want from the Internet. I want to be part of a group like that. Views and subs are nice, but what I really want is to interact with other people in the community. Yeah. That's pretty much it.

I'll get there eventually.

A Concept

When I was a kid, we had this concept. I don't think it really exists anymore. Basically, it's the idea of the perfect man.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Girls sitting around doing their make-up, talking about the perfect man. Or gay dudes, doing likewise. Whatever. That's not what I'm talking about.

Back when I was growing up, I think every young boy had this image of the perfect man in the back of his mind. Just the sum of all the things a man ought to be. The perfect man is honest. He's good-looking. He can protect and provide for the people he cares about. He can probably fly.

Yep, I'm talking about superheroes. This was back before I knew about such things as anti-heroes. The Punisher? Spawn? Never heard of 'em. Superman was one of my big ones. He had that dashing smile that could win a crowd over in an instant. He always saved the day, no matter what. No matter how fast he flew his hair was always perfect. He always did the right thing. Always. He was never questioned, because it was unthinkable that Superman could do wrong. It just wasn't even in the realm of possibility. I think that's why he was my concept of perfection. He was incapable of doing wrong.

He wasn't the only one, of course. There were plenty. Green Lantern, sure. And that's all the Green Lanterns. Guy Gardner, Kyle Rayner, Hal Jordan, all of them. The Flash? Definitely. It goes on and on.

Since then, the lines have blurred. Today's heroes, no matter what far-flung corner of the universe they come from, are human. They make mistakes. They have emotional turmoil. Above all, they can be wrong. I think that makes my life a little harder. There are cracks in that pillar of righteousness Superman built when I was a kid. I mean, really, he had more of an influence on my childhood than religion ever did. God was the guy in charge that I had to work not to piss off, and Jesus was his henchman. Forget What Would Jesus Do. My sense of right and wrong came from the Capes.

Obviously, I've grown up since then. The cross hanging around my neck 24/7 is a testament to that. That doesn't mean my heroes are gone from my life, though. They're still the image of what I need to be, because they never stop trying. They're always trying. They don't give up. I think that's the foundation of the perfect man.

Critical

"frankly, critical types, you really aren't winning anything by having high standards. it just means you enjoy less things." - age0limits0are0gay

I saw this comment on a YouTube video. The video itself doesn't matter.

I wasn't sure at first why I was so incensed by the comment. Gradually, I came to realize that it bothered me because it was retarded. This person seems to be arguing that having standards is actually a fault, a defect in one's character. That kind of thinking is just one of those little side-effects of the immaturity most of America has been huffing for the last couple decades.

It disturbs me that this kind of idea can exist unchallenged. And it is unchallenged. It has sat under that video for over a month now, with not a single response.

The thing about being critical is that it's not a choice you make. It's like a gateway drug. As you grow up (and the key really is growing up) you expect better from the media you consume. Or, if you want to be literal, the food you consume. For instance, when I was a kid, Lunchables were awesome. Now, I eat actual food, because it is better. Yes, I could theoretically subsist on those little pre-packaged meals, but I'd rather improvise a cooked meal that not only has actual nutritional value, but will taste better than the kiddie meals by orders of magnitude.

I'd say the same about beverages. I spent several years drinking almost nothing but root beer. When I was home, if I got thirsty, I'd grab a can or two. Later, I got picky. I'd only drink root beer that came from independent bottlers. That's because the name brands are homogenized, watered down for the general public, while the independent bottlers still have to put effort into producing a product people will want to buy again. Barq's, Mug, and A&W all have enough name recognition to keep selling for decades. I only bought once a week, and I didn't mind buying a four-pack of bottled Goose Island rather than a 12-pack of cans of Mug. (Goose Island really is good stuff. If you see it, pick up a pack.)

When you get right down to it, it's about growing as a consumer. Used here, 'consumer' does not mean 'buyer and user of goods,' but rather 'one who consumes.' As you read more and more books, you start to expect characters to have a little more depth. As you watch movies, you begin to expect better acting and writing.

I suppose, when it comes to art, that it's a matter of intelligence. If you watch a high-concept film and don't get it, you won't like it because it makes you feel dumb, and you'll seek out something more on your level. In that context, people liking stupid jokes almost makes sense. That is to say, if you can't handle high-brow, go for low-brow.

Part of the problem is that once you understand why the more sophisticated item is better, you can't really enjoy the old thing anymore. Sure, a box of wine is nice if you don't know any better, but once you've noticed the fruity undertones in an old vintage, you can never go back.

I'm rambling.

Anyway, here's the link to the video. It has no relevance to this, but the comment is probably still there.

Scurred

I'm now quite terrified of my own mind. I've gotten so used to having the Internet occupying most of my mind at all times that I've become dependent on it. Normally, this isn't so bad. It just means that when I'm away from the Internet, my imagination goes insane, and I can't really focus on anything for too particularly long. That's okay, because it can make conversations interesting, and school nearly entertaining. Well, more like almost bearable. Still.

It's gotten worse this week. The problem is the the cycles that would normally be used by the Internet? They shut down when I sleep. But I can't sleep. When I lay down, unless I'm absolutely exhausted, those cycles are still running. That's why I keep the schedule I do. Because my brain won't shut up. But ever since the Picone thing, those cycles are all going to the same program. EVERYTHING IS POINTLESS. It's not even just those words. No, that would be easy. Every single aspect of my day, every day, is analyzed for just how pointless it is. And I can't stop it. I can't sleep because the cycles won't shut down. I've ceased being tired at night. I finally passed out for most of yesterday. I missed two classes. I'm now going to fail English Comp. Or, at most, get a C. Math 151 is already in the crapper. And there's no way in hell I can tell my parents any of this.

It is a terrifying thing to not be safe from your own thoughts. I'm freaking scurred.

I'm going to go try to close my eyes and sleep now. Hopefully I can write something that doesn't sound either insane or completely bollocks in the near future. If not, I hear those padded rooms are nice. I haven't blinked since I started writing this post.

Clowns

There are places you expect to learn life lessons. Those places are usually the worst place to find a life lesson. The best ones come from places you'd never imagine. Today, mine comes from clowns.

Obviously, I don't mean clowns of the circus variety. I'm talking about the people I go to for laughs, for easy entertainment, the people I open myself up to because when I do that they reward me by making me smile. In this case, the characters of Scrubs. Yes, really. If you think I'm a tool for getting a life lesson from Scrubs, you know where the Back button is.

I'm not really current with the shows I like. This is because TV has utterly failed me, and so I've turned to YouTube to provide my video entertainment. This being the case, I hadn't really seen any of Season 8 of Scrubs. So when I was watching Episode 7, My New Role, it kind of caught me off guard. The episode reminded me of something important that we all have to face sooner or later.

Life is full of thankless jobs.

Let's look at Dr. Cox. New Chief of Medicine. Works his ass off behind a desk all day for the sole purpose of making the hospital run better for everyone involved, from doctors to nurses to physicians to patients. He's trapped in there, forced by his position to be an ass to the people to whom he's closest, never able to get out and do what he really loves, which is helping the patients. He's miserable, but he knows the job needs to be done, and everyone knows he's the only one tough enough to do it.

Dr. Dorian. Or JD, since freaking nobody calls him Dr. Dorian. He has the unenviable task of riding Cox to do the things that really need to be done. Cox hates him for it. He hates doing it. There can never be any kind of happiness there until one or both of them leaves their position. Unfortunately, he's the only one who has any kind of pull with Dr. Cox. The friendship he worked years and years to cultivate has been perverted into this twisted, antagonistic relationship.

It scares me to think about this, because I know it's real. There are really roles where people will hate you for what you do, even though you're doing everything you can to help them.

I can't write any more about this. Later.

Progress

So, I'm not a good student. I never have been. I've had Senioritis since sixth grade. My parents have tried way too many things to get me to be a good student. Right now, I'm being watched and medicated for what the doctor is calling "ADHD Inattentive Type". Basically, the meds just help me focus, which is probably a good thing, since my focus sucks when I don't give a damn about what someone is talking about, which happens a lot at school. The problem is, I've been on this stuff since about halfway through the summer, but my grades haven't miraculously gotten better. First quarter, I failed three classes. Second quarter, two.
The thing is, I've had a change of heart. Something like that, anyway. Probably more like a change of mind. I've sort of decided that now, homework may actually be worth my time. It's probably because I need to apply to colleges like, now, if I want to be accepted in time to go next semester. So, now I'm working my butt off to make sure all my stuff is done and in on time. It's weird, but I think it's actually easier to just do the work than it was to dance around it, waiting for it to be too late to matter.

That's not the most important thing in my life right now, though. The most important thing is that I recently had tech work! I love working on shows. It causes me to focus on something and work hard for a few weeks at a time, which is really good for me. Plus, I need all the experience I can get if I hope to be any good at this stuff in college.
The cool part about this show is that none of my family members were in it. I was called to work on it simply because they knew I was good. And they were willing to pay me for my work. I've always been happy doing it for these guys for free, but getting paid is awesome.

So, as an added distraction from legitimate concerns, I'm crushing on this girl. It's ridiculous. Romance is just not a good plan for me, so you'd think I'd be smart enough to avoid this sort of thing. *sigh*
So, most of the time, she's a complete bitch. Like, to everyone. She randomly says these horrible, awful, just mean things to people, she looks at you like you're garbage, and she almost definitely thinks she's better than you. But then there are these times when she's actually pretty fun. She's funny, she's intelligent, and she's actually nice. It's so weird. It's not just those times that I'm attracted to her, though. I'm even smiling when she's being a bitch. It's like, I'm enamored by how hard she tries to insult me. Clearly, there's something wrong with me. And I don't particularly care, because this crazy bitch is fantastic, and if there's a healthier relationship waiting for me somewhere, I want no part of it.

Well, this is a huge idiot, signing off to do homework.

Injuries

So, I managed to hurt my back. Sleeping. I mean, am I an idiot, or what? In all seriousness though, the doc said 90% of adults go in for this at some point. Like, here's what happened. Last Wednesday, I woke up, got up, and about fell over. Back hurt like hell. So, I figured I slept on it wrong, and it would go away over the course of the day, and I'd just have to deal with it until then.
With that in mind, I headed off to class, and proceeded to ignore the fire in my back. Didn't help. It got worse as the day went on, despite any number of stretches, back-cracks, and other attempts at making it not hurt. Thursday was no better. Like, we're talking epic pain here.
So, Friday, I'm like, no. No class. Not doing this crap again today. So that's when I went in to see the doctor. He actually found a spot on my back that was having muscle spasms he could feel just by putting a hand on it.
So, long story short, I'm on drugs now. 800mg of Motrin every 6-8 hours, so like three times a day, and then Valium before I go to sleep. It's good stuff, but the Motrin is really throwing me off during the day. Like, I forget random little things, and then occasionally someone'll get my attention, and I'll realize I've been staring off into space for like five minutes. I'm amazed I haven't been brought in for a drug test yet.