Hitaru

Boy, didn't I seize the day yesterday. In the morning I had an incident when I mistakenly thought an old lady couldn't afford her shopping and tried to perform charity. Serves me well for going to low quality supermarkets for the thrill of feeling a college student again and the romantic, bohemian conception of being around the unfortunate. I'm a sheltered asshole at heart and karma made justice at my bourgeois side. I'm trying to bring humor to the situation but I really felt like an asshole. I'll learn a lot from that. At the evening I was supposed to go to drawing class but teacher moved it to today. There was a film casting for extras in a nearby town and I took it as the work of providence. A very long story full of andalusian context (and subtext) and comedy ensued. In a nutshell, I made it to the place, against all odds and the help of an enthusiastic, tipically southern old lady, I was able to sneak inside the building, meet the person in charge and give him my contact info. The situation was so absurd and over the top I wouldn't be surprised if he got rid of me the moment we parted ways, but at least I returned home with the feeling of a job done. Now I have a characteristic nausea because of social hangover (I kinda made an impromptu show, to say something, in front of dozens of people, absurd I tell you) that was crippling last night, but is slowly receding. It will take days until it goes away. I should rename this journal as "Mad Actor's Adventures" or something, but I don't want to step in the turf of my polish amigo. Overall, I've never been so ashamed in my entire life. But hey! I didn't spend the day in the couch, and that's ALWAYS a victory. The only thing that annoys me, aside from the possibility of forging an ill reputation among casting makers, is that this sudden burst of... whatever the hell was yesterday, goes completely against my policy of consistent, slow changes and routines to make a better me ingrained in my "daily" brain and heart. This kind of adventures, like the one I lived years ago that saw me inside the theatre school, are all fun and good, but I don't want to aim for the stars and crash spectacularly again. Specially NOT when such spectacular moves are sparked by almost clinically crazy whims. Unrelated, but still worth mentioning, I purchased a mechanical pencil and testing it was a so pleasant experience, my interest in drawing has doubled. I sincerely hope that interest doesn't die at the end of this sentence. Still there I believe. My stomach has been really delicate since last month. Almost anything I put inside my body gets eventually expelled in an expected but painful manner. I feel burning inside most of the day. Perhaps I should see a doctor but I'll try taking things easy first. Dealing with my background anxiety and fear of time and death without turning into a screaming, sobbing mess (or relapsing) takes most of my willpower, but I'm taking for granted it will decrease. If it doesn't I'll be in BIG trouble, specially when I get older, but now is certainly not the time to be thinking about that. There was some pesky gaming addiction that needed my attention, if I remember correctly...

I was uploading the vids to Amara but I wasn't sure of how did it work.

Well if we look at the most optimistic estimate, today is a month without games. However don't hype yet little me, from now on I'm going to use the date of my Steam expurgation as Day 0. It's a relevant one, full of meaning. Remember the day, 28 of July. So, less than a week for the month! My emotions oscillate between "Yay!" and "Fucking finally". Almost a year here, no less. 9 months of failure for 3 months of success. That makes a 3 to 1 proportion. Yep, sounds totally like me. Time is flying and this is no joke. This week, what the hell I've been doing? Procrastinating in the couch a lot, that's what I've been doing. I can't wait for September to arrive and start filling my time with endless courses, but that doesn't mean I can just ignore the still going summer. It's the thousanth time I say this but I need a consistent schedule! There's no swearing to express the frustration at myself for being unable to cope with this theoretically simple, yet hard to implement step. A step at a time, yeah, but come on, it feels I'm stepping on Venus here. Well, at least I can give me some praise in having reduced my whatsapp consumption. It's also true that this was mainly because having lost my best friend recently, and other friends being busy, away or depressed. Petty details. I've procrastinated away another hour, so I'll cut short here, do some stuff and return later. Ideally.

Marquess, ol' slav chap, the man, the senpai, master of all things happenings, bae of Rand, game detoxed. Damn son, it's been a ride!

Welcome to your 90th day without games

That's-f*cking-it. Show'em the light and they'll think you shine! I just don't want to appear like I'm appropriating the whole translation thing. As much as I'd like, to be honest, but it's simply too much work for one lone individual. Well, unless you're @Cam Adair (I'm mentioning you way too much, I'll try to tone down the petty personality cult thing, chief ) By the way, a whole file translated in one single stroke, woo! Finally back on track, feels awesome! Now, I think I'll go for my first meditation session and after that... oops, sorry for loitering here the whole day. I'll start with the exercise asap, promise.

Ok I am REALLY COMMITTED with the Game Quitters Spain initiative. But I'm terrified. I feel I'm barging in and being annoying. I just have to write this somewhere. I feel I'm not enough detoxed. That people won't trust me. Like I'm no one important but I'm trying to hoard all the attention. Damn it, I just want to be part of something I feel really important for personal and sentimental reasons and I don't want to screw up. Please if I'm being annoying let me know. Please.

You can always count with my spanishness, @Cam Adair. Count me in!

@Marquess That was great joke But what's a "es-loh-been"? (?) B-but I was never here for the fame... However it's true that I should invest more time here. You guys are like my family. And I should stop saying should and just do. --------------------- I keep delaying beginning my physical rehabilitation. Darn it. Yesterday I gave up going to a show (I had bought the ticket and a guy almost broke his leg to deliver it to me) to have a date with a girl. [Inside Out levels of internal screaming] Nah it was ok. It's always fun to receive attention from someone who's quite obviously into you. It's not so fun that such person will quite obviously not take the initiative and kiss the hell out of you because she's a girl and girls don't do that. It's even less fun that her parents know EVERYTHING about you and welcome you in their house with way too open arms. Man it was like I was 13 all over again. Initiating beyond friendship protocols will most likely end in a SCC relationship (Standard, Closed, Committed). I have no reason to say no to that right now. But I also have no reason to say yes. The girl in question is alright I guess. We have theatre, particularly Musical Theatre in common. And we both like films, though our tastes differ. She dances latin like a pro and has a body to match such skill. Good excuse to get out of the house and learn to not being a fucking stick. Airheaded like most young hetero girls; you know, unwillingness to discuss deep topics and that giggle. We watched a movie with my cat between us. Way too marital for me. I should have go to the show and relegate that plan to another day at least. Now I think in that girl and it gives me a headache. I should just give up.

Interesting, for me it's the complete opposite. You say jump, I jump. You say recite that monologue, and that monologue goes. But give me a formula and you'll know the true meaning of torturing someone. "But Maths is easy"; go get p*gged by a 9, math nerds. Lovingly.

Ah, envy, a spaniard's staple. Success in Spain is much more valuable than anywhere else. It means having crushed all opposition, without any kind of help or simpathy from their peers. Perhaps that's why we only succeed in highly individual enterprises (usually in exile), or those which work through unquestioned authority. Not exactly, what I meant is people like Nietzsche or Dalí aren't considered assholes only because their achievements. They were assholes. But people turn a blind eye because who they were. And don't get me started with Columbus...

Well, yes and no. The guy is decided and cocksure, which means he'll be more than willing to invest in projects no one else will for the sake of his name. Risking is generally a good thing. But he's also brash and reckless. On one hand, he must be that way, without that personality he just wouldn't be himself. A more prudent person would more probably not risk as much. That person would not be Trump then. On the other hand, I think I would have handled differently if I was in his position. I don't need big cars or fancy houses (I like some very expensive things, but to personally own them and not to brag about them). His ego is somewhat like a shark. It must be in constant movement and constantly fed. Mine works more through introspection.

They are not. Exactly my thoughts. Being an asshole just means to be a loser. No winners are assholes. Success and value sanitizes all kinds of vices, even criminal ones. You can't be special to yourself, since you can't compare at the same level of anyone else. Only people outside you can label you as special (compared to them). So you have to make something they value as special. For a healthy life that means doing something you like in a so special way a consensus of its specialness is reached. So to speak. Important announcement: Fuck you, Skype. Fuck you, Microsoft. Fuck your control, your linked accounts, your fucking and your tyranny, you hear? Fuck you! You know who I am, go arrest me. FUCK YOU! (Story behind this: I want to have a mail account, a Skype account and a Gmail account. I want them to be independent and I don't want to give my name and or phone everywhere. I want to have some damn privacy. It seems it's utterly impossible. Fuck you.)

It was almost a premonition. I broke ties with (yet) another friend. I have only one real friend left, and he's too epicurean in nature to give a fuck about videogames or my character. I'm an arrogant guy, folks. You know D*nald Tr*mp? I have that kind of ego. The conviction since birth that I am special and my mere existence a gift to Humanity. It could be if I did things for them. And I could do things if I stop hating myself. When I was a child, there was no hate within me. I did things. My mere naive confidence allowed me to do anything I wanted. If I wanted a friend I'd go talk to a stranger; "Let's be friends today", and that was it. If I wanted a thing, I would ask, or take it by force. It was a simple life where even if there were people stronger than me, or smarter than me, or richer, or unaccepting of my presence, I was still the king. When I was declared gifted, and that +130 (can't remember the exact number and it's not important) showed up, I wasn't depressed about it. I took it as something natural; seconds later I couldn't relate to a time where I wasn't the holder of exceptional talent. But then everyone started lashing at me, for many reasons. Some, to bully the different and feel bigger and better. Others to try to avoid creating a megalomaniac monster, to help me fit in society. Remember this? Now I know, even if God didn't tell me. It was to help me being happy. Instead, it only served to create a contradiction in me which lead to anger, hate and suffering, as the green little guy would say. Walls were raised. The purpose of those walls is only useful to others. Fitting in society only serves others. I was born to (be naturally inclined to) believe I am special and deserve greatness. From a rational perspective, I'm fully aware that's bullshit and there's no special or better people per se. From an observer's perspective I'm positive it's a pain in the ass to have an arrogant guy around. From an emotional perspective, I am who I am and denying it anymore will only pain me further. Arrogance doesn't hurt it's owner. See? From the very beginning, all my life was about how to avoid incurring in someone else's wrath or displeasure. Damn me and my ignorance! Pretending to be someone I'm not makes me a liar. People notice this sooner or later, they stop trusting me and go away. But being who I am seems to be unpleasant to others, and they go away as well. Now, I know better. It's not about fitting inside society. Maybe I'm the little electron and not the bored looking proton. This needs more exposition but I took too long in writing it and now the point I wanted to make has dissipated in the fog of my memory. I guess I'll go on with my life and it will return by itself. By the way, I also learned how to block some distracting things of my phone thanks to an app. I can settle it to run at certain times and unlock them everytime the charger is connected to the wall, so I'm starting a new routine; I'll make a schedule to block internet at night and another to block things whenever I'm not directly busy. I'm ashamed to have to do things this way. But, anyway.

People keep suggesting me ideas to bypass my barriers. E.g. "You could buy games in stores, play flash games, create another Steam account", etc. Fuck them because they're not telling me as an advice (careful with this or that), but as encouragement to go back to the old ways. Fuck. Them. And also thank them, they unintentionally provide me with suggestions of new dangerous things to steer clear of. The only people that support me without reservations, apart from fellow quitters, are people who have never played. It's a sad thought. Is it so difficult to say "Well, games work fine for me, but if that's not your case you're doing the right thing"? Courses are over and I've learned a lot of insights* about myself. I'm now facing the most dreadful of boredoms. The ways of procrastination mean I'm doing secondary things, and since they are being completed I'm running out of options. I block the other kind of distractions the moment I have the slightest of tentations, so they're also dissapearing. Today I took a single task and extended it for the whole day. I'm trying so hard not to progress. But I will. I'm using my exterior looks to avoid going outside, so the next action is getting rid of that excuse. I'm also checking on new courses. My mate and friendly one-sided rival believes in equally combine formation with working experience, but I feel unready. I must develop confidence and presence. There's something I feel the need to say, but I can't remember. Maybe there's no real need right now. - Steam dead since: 28 July, 2016 (Today day 16) - Blocked since: 7 August, 2016 (Today day 6) - No gaming since: ~22-26~ July, 2016 (Today day 18-22

Lewding other people journals like that. Ara ara, such impudence. (Fitting avatar being fitting, heh) My body is the instrument of my craft. I seemed to forgot that, and I ask forgiveness. Performing: the mastery of the voice, the gesture, the intention; the action. To represent reality, but not reenact it. To create, but not imitate. Remove the body from theatre, and you get naked literature, dramaturgy. Not a subproduct, but a different product. And so, leaving aside vanity, I must devote great amounts of time to turn my body into a fine machine, to carefully (and perhaps, even lovingly) oversee and ensure the best operation. Healthy nutrition for a healthy voice, cardio for endurance, stretching for flexibility, exercise to develop drive. And practice, practice, practice. Every single day of my life. To be an actor is to live an actor. Otherwise I'm just a worker, a copyist, an official of the stage. Excelling at living everyday, to excel at the game of pretending the life of someone else. Geez, I should stick to writing. EDIT: Speaking of writing, I was able to send my assignment to my teachers a mere 9 hours late of the planned time. Despite all the anxiety, procrastination, lack of inspiration, tight schedule and simple laziness. The quality, in my opinion, was solid. I feel awesome for it.

Pink Triangle on her sleeve~~

Funny how I was certain my perceived health would worsen the moment I quit playing. I took a nap and I feel invigorated, but the ever-present migraine is not receding. Standard lewd emotions were bottled up in my waist when I woke up. From there I could harvest them and with some help of my brain turn them into words. Then, like some sort of discarded resources out of the belly of industry, they just disappeared after being refined. Weird. But convenient! I'm a bit late in my schedule to feel like giving this process the praise it deserves, and even if I talked about this before is way too early to know if it's going to be a common ocurrence or just coincidence. I hope and expect this to be the beginning of a beautiful creative partnership between my body and my mind. A body that, by the way, I've been neglecting of every single thing from nutrition to exercise to everything else since as long as I can remember. I used to be ashamed to have such a thing, a decaying, faulty proof of my temporality in this world. Now I feel like I owe some kind of debt to myself, and most of all, a whole, huge, unexplored area of my very being. Like a missing building in a street. Like having walked all your life and then discovering a door. I need a body, be aware of its needs, its signs, its wholehearted screams of rage, laughter, pleasure, pain or grief. It may even be fun, but I'm not betting on it. People do such stupid things with, for, to, or because their body.

After the hype comes the panic. I was expecting it and I managed to recover. After checking on my online course (I've been ignoring it beyond acceptable levels) I'm back to work again. I've overextended my reach and this week's gonna be tough. I sacrificed a dramaturgy class but it was an emergency measure so I won't need to do it twice. I could have still go if I did things right but anxious procrastination took it's toll. Now I'll have to face that perfectly efficient guy in the evening and he may even give me the stare. I prefer it to a dismissive stare, trust me. My first impulse was to flee but I made some mistake with Cold Turkey and now everything I considered even mildly distracting is completely blocked for the next three months straight. Even Wikipedia. Well who needs knowledge anyway, pfft. Since this damn assignment of erotic poems is not getting done anytime soon (artist block) I'm going to dump some bad stuff here that's blocking my mind and hopefully make room for useful things. - I'm feeling terrible, physically speaking, and obviously it's distracting me a lot. Nightmares, cramps, nausea, migraines, chest pain, throat pain and inflammation, limb pain, muscular numbness, feeling of suffocation or not enough air in the lungs. Is this being alive? Or is it because videogames? It's like something inside me is saying "Well fuck you, if I you won't allow me to mess with your mind, I'll mess with your body". I don't get it. Why is this thing so damn into making me fail everything? I'm. Feeling. Terrible. But it's worth it, I guess.

People look at me like that all the time ;-;

Nothing like a rival to make your gears all fired up! Picture this guy (I met today): Same age as me, just graduated from Criminology. Discovers acting in January this year and falls completely for it. Some short crash courses later, with absolutely no prior experience, he's ready to start a two-year diplomature of cinema studies, has a proper portfolio, huge contacts, a website, studies in several languages to open doors to foreign formation or roles, and about to settle in Madrid to start a professional career. Eight damn months. Now, I think you know me enough already. How would I feel if I had to see this guy in the afternoon Tv while growing dirt in my backwater hometown for an indefinite amount of time? This, this... lucky parvenu! Am I going to just lay back, fold my arms and accept it? FUCK NO! Absolutely, absolutely unforgivable!! So I'm going to follow his footsteps and harness his good disposition to help and guide me to maximum effect. By no means I'm getting behind. A rash decision I said earlier, huh? How about a rash race to success! Now, don't misunderstand, cash and b*tches is not what success means to me. It's about position. Getting my face in a promotional poster in Gran Vía. And grossly fat my CV. Normally, I would fear this enthusiasm flatten after a date with the pillow. Thankfully I'm getting to see this guy for the whole day for four more days. By the end of Friday I'll be so damn envious (in a healthy way) and my pride so hurt, I simply won't be able to take it off my mind. He's exactly the opposite to me! And with my same age. How can be that nothing but destiny? Things to do (even without newfound resolution). Log out.

Youtube, Twitter, Facebook, Wikipedia and several procrastination tools except for 30 minutes each two hours of useful work. Lewd Stuff for three months straight. Computer blocked from 0:00 to 7:00 everyday. Obvious reasons!

They were a guy and a girl so it was more a display of "common knowledge". I'll take your advice, they're fun to hang with. My opinion of parties has settled to neutral, but being unable to talk is a huge con. Cold Turkey bought and programmed. This has just reached a new level of serious-businessness. From now on, no late-night computer and no mindless-browsing. [Insert battle cry here]

F U C K Y O U U C K Y O U <3 In a completely coincidental coincidence I went partying* last night with theatre friends, some of them thirty year olds, and some unexpected female attention triggered this exact conversation. They utterly crushed my vision of myself of being a special snowflake of socially imposed asexuality. According to them, I'm equally able to pick up girls as any other guy of my age, that is, quite unable. The only things standing in my way are 1. I'm in an incorrect, "nice guy" mindset, regardless if I was aware of it or not. And 2. Girls my age allegedly are a bunch of void, trivial hussies. *The original plan was going to a delightfully decadent music festival. There were several people scheduled to play that night, but the guy we saw before leaving for dinner was the epitome of Fremdschämic indieness. Fedora and checkered shirt which he proceeded to unbutton during his performance, leaving him bare-chested. His songs were two or three disjointed phrases with heavy emphasis in "fucking" "pussy" and anti-government demonstrations. In a family-friendly event. Of course no good, old-fashioned families were present, so there was nothing to worry about. Then lots of endless chords in a pleasant to hear but soon repetitive mix of light rock, jazz and gypsy rumba. He then proceeded to spray the crowd with a water gun. Ah, good, college freshman experiences. With no graduation at the end but whatever. Partying, drinking and merry debauchery is all good and fun, but leaves me sore and it's unpleasant. I'm certainly not designed for modern jollification. As usual, I waste most of the day staring at the ceiling and then feel guilty about the thousand things I should be doing. But hey, at least a whole future of glorious female conquests awaits, that's good to hear.

American McGee's Alice meets Ib? Most approved! Seriously who the hell can live with that name, btw.