Hitaru

You know I love you (and your gifs) Stop being right. It's obnoxious when you're always right. This month I'll... no. Wait. Step by step. Today I didn't play. Tomorrow I won't play. ---------- I've started with basic Maths and it's hell. Why in the world am I doing this? I don't have probl issues with Economy and Statistics. Geometry is so-so. Algebra is intolerable. Please don't say anything about Algebra or how easy it can become if you simply do whatever. Just no. No. Nnnnnnnno. I just want to get over it ASAP and then forget about it for the most amount of time possible. No. At least I'm here and I haven't played. It could have been easy for me to say "I'll start on May 1st because, well, it's day 1" but no, screw rituals and rationalizations, I begin today. Also, today was little productive, looking for materials, references, exercises... so if I didn't started today, I'd had to spend day 1 doing that. Then start on day 2 already with the left foot. I won't fall for that. Again! It's the second or third time I start doing something on the spot instead of waiting for a "significant date". I really like that. Linguistics seem fine, and I can use them to further help a certain Pole with his studies. English, piece of cake. French, hm, I'll need to give it a good look. Tomorrow is Mother's Day. I already congratulated her when it was Father's Day instead of the pretender (savage as ****) and ironically, I had planned to have lunch with the actual guy tomorrow. I'm thinking of postponing it. Again. Not only because it's still a bit awkward (very long and personal story) but also because I need time to make a present for my mother. I'm thinking of making her a drawing in a 1st-grader style. So childish I'm positively sure she will hate it - and therefore love it. Or just love it. Or just hate it, and then I'll love it. Always a win. So much to study, so little time, so little motivation. I don't want to use translations and other projects as a distraction. I guess I'll need to tackle the Math beast head-on. Duh. Annoying.

It was wasted then, since a gamed a tiiiiny bit Naaah not so wasted. Just a bit wasted. @hycniejsy actually that's the best idea. Even if this friend is a lifesaver, I have to expand my network and be open to new activities and perspectives. Being too caught up in just one or a few is never positive. And yes, that means new people. DAY 90. As you can see I'm a bit sleepless, I hope writing a bit will help. In these 90 days I have not quit videogames. I have not seized a future. I have not made new friends. I have not begun a healthy lifestyle. Those are current facts and I have to be real about them. But strangely, I'm not too worried about it. Not so worried as I expected to be a year ago when I quit theatre, for instance. The last three months don't feel like a failure, and I know failure pretty well so I can tell the difference, heh. On Thursday, and today as well, I've been basically confined in my room. Not completely, my friend's been coming and going, yesterday morning and today's evening. Yesterday morning we worked a bit and then played Minecraft together, since we couldn't on wednesday. You may find this counterproductive. I've already shared my experience with multiplayer and made clear that at first I don't have any problem or show compulsive behaviour, unlike with singleplayer gaming. But (I'll be honest here) it could serve and very very probably serves as a trigger so it may be really smart to just avoid it and not tempt fate. We had planed go full work in the evening but I bailed. I could draw and translate a bit at home, but still I'm angry at myself. I didn't sleep the previous night, playing and browsing the internet, so I was convinced there was no way I could be productive. When actually I was almost perfectly awake the whole day. And night. It was my conviction of being unable to do it what prevented me from doing it. It sounds cliché, but it is all in the mind. Today I was still avoidant and I wasn't answering phone calls, so he dropped by to check on me. He was sorry for intruding but I was very thankful. We had a nice dinner outside and made plans for the next month. And that's what I wanted to share with you: The other day I made a phone call asking for guidance in job trainings. There are two levels of job training, let's call them 1 and 2. Level 1 consist mostly of manual, menial, precarious crafts. At least from a conservative, wage slave approach; a manual job can actually be shaped into a very rewarding (and high-payed) way of life, but it seems that's not my calling. With my current level of schooling, I can access them anytime. I was referring to this level when I first mentioned job training. Level 2 are specialist trainings, things that actually allow you to have a decent existence, instead an almost destitute subsistence relying on welfare and/or part-time delinquency (which in my honest opinion is the system's fault. Being a fisherman, farmer or factory worker is a honest and hardworking profession, not "the outcome of not wanting to study". Usually.). They require high-school schooling. Or passing a test. Explaying the admission process is a headache even in my language. Basically I have to pass the test with the best score possible. Ideally that should be all. What you need to know is, I have to "declare" what and where I want to study. I can choose a second option but I'm only allowed to aim for it if my score is not enough for the first one. I'll give you the practical situation: - My friend and I want to live in Seville next year. Therefore I declare I want to study in Seville as first option, anticipating we will both pass our respective tests. Let's assume my friend doesn't and I do. I can't declare the second option to be my hometown and choose that instead considering the eventuality. I have to take the first and move along without him or leave it, and do nothing this year. Nothing official at least. Again, all or nothing. By the way, my job training is Management and Finances, or something like that. Job trainings tend to have very fancy and deceitful names (can you guess what an Applied Technician in Personal Aesthetics is? Two hints: it's not exactly a prestigious job and the answer is not hairdresser). I'll be taught practical economics, business management, commerce, some computing (both the verb and the noun), cool stuff I'd say. 2000 and a bit hours of my life, seems fair. We ultimately decided to "burn down the ships" and try do that. Personally, I don't want to think about the future or the potential applications of this path. I've already done that, at the back of my mind. I think this is the best option for an official titulation, instead of other things I emotionally like more (such as actor, sailor, writer, baker, politician, futurologist, beloved leader, professional idler...). And it's not that I dislike this. Quite the opposite. I've been playing management games all my life for a reason. Then why not play one last time making management a way of living instead? That's the logic behind it. And I'm not settling there. I've got much bigger plans and this would be only the first step. The thing is, the magnitude of this plan overwhelms me. That's why I'm choosing to work in autopilot, even if I'm strongly against it. It's a necessary evil for a greater good. I'll play the game "getting the best score in this text" for the next month and think about nothing else, then do the text, pass it and only then think about step two. If I did it now I would never start anything. As usual. Putting a friend on the stake is also a huge incentive. He's counting on me to be his flatmate, and he has a whole future ahead of him. I can't screw up. I won't. See, this is the only way I can do things. I just need to devise a ridiculous overcomplicated scheme and perform some kind of Batman Gambit on myself to do something really easy (while the rest of people do shit without even realising it for the sake of not being idle). Magnificent. ... But, I guess this means I've made a final decision about my future in the mid-term. With a day to spare panicking, even, I'm on fire dude. [Any of Cam's overused gifs goes here. Someone seriously give this guy some new ones ] I wanted to write some long ass existential litany but it's so damn late early, I should go to bed now if I expect things being done today. Probably that's a terrible phrasing and that's the joke. But you won't escape from the incoming wall of text, oh no you won't. Just gimme a small break. I'll be back.

Day 88: Except for making some phone calls, completely wasted. The phone call itself meant great improvement; I'll explain later. A quick note to myself to remind me to do at least one more thing today or I shall suffer peer disapproval for my inaction. Please don't give up! [A cute pic should go here. It really should. Please pretend it's actually here]

I am curious about people, but it hurts. Step by step, everything's fine. Goodness! I've been so productive today. Yesterday had the first skype call with our dear fellow @hycniejsy, we've been planning to do a language exchange and at last we could start. As for today, I've written a lengthy letter to a comrade translator, which I hope he finds useful. I've made some trips asking for those aforementioned "new study/job prospects", translated a roughly 1100 words, and drawed for one hour and half. And it's still 20:00 pm! What am I going to do with so much time? I'm overwhelmed just from the variety of tasks performed and it seems I need more! I should (and will) make a list with my current activities and arrange them between categories (resting, mentally engaging, etc.) and then add some of my weakest area (phisically active it's the first thing that comes to my mind, and the exertion will probably make my now seemingly endless time fly away). On the field of games, I relapsed last night. And I'll relapse again in five minutes, because I really don't have anything else to do today, and I don't want to push me forcing me to read for example (the sense of responsibility of being learned and cultured makes me feel nauseous near books, something I really regret and will work to fix) This dev friend of me asked me if I'm up for a multiplayer game of Minecraft. He'll be hosting the server so I won't be able to play without him. Well, I could still play on my own but it wouldn't be the same. I tend to tire (not bore, literally wear out) playing multiplayer things very quickly, so I'm going to take the risk and add the Social to the game equation for the second or third scarce time of my whole life (remember I've always played alone and solitude was a key element of my addiction). I'll check on how I feel and reflect on it. It could be an excuse and a rationalization, sure, and I won't be ashamed if it ends being one. But empiricism is also key. Besides, nothing could ruin my day today, not even a little guilty conscience if it ends appearing. Day 87. Three days to decide what I'm going to do. Time's tickin'!

Completely opposite to me, heh. I somehow tend to get along really well with the drunken idiots (or rather they tend to get along really well with me) and the part I dislike most is the dancing. If that's even allowed to be called "dancing" instead of "a bad impersonation of an epileptic". Epileptics would be offended, at least they retain all their dignity. Well, no; the part I dislike the most is when the drunken idiots try to hit on my female friends. It's already awkward for a guy to hit on a girl but I wouldn't call that "oppression", "harassment", "almost rape" or other things you can hear nowadays. Even if a girl is just trying to have a nice time with her friends and does not want to be bothered, I think approaching and trying to be social or even flirt is still acceptable since you can't be 100% sure of her disposition without actually talking to them. But that's just me, I'm the kind of person who would approach a stranger only to compliment or comment on a piece of their clothing or something equally trivial (because when something of that sort comes to my mind it suddenly becomes of the utmost importance and I must say it or my liver turns blue.) Girls may misunderstand my intentions because they're used to vultures, but I won't let my gender interfere with my love for prattle. I have my standards. For most people, the advice I usually hear (and think is most sensible) is something among this lines: But if you take the risk anyway, your levels of chill must be stratospheric. You must accept the fact that the person in question may feel accosted, bothered, uncomfortable, or whatever they might feel; and they are in their right even if you are completely harmless and well-intentioned. So you must be always ready to leave as smoothly and politely as you tried to arrive. And here is where many guys fail. Miserably. Now consider 80% of my female friends happen to be lesbians. Things just get ridiculous, since now it's not about your lack of personal charm but your excess of penis. But they won't pull a tactical retreat and laugh off the whole affair, oh no. "You haven't found a proper man yet" PEOPLE! Please! I don't know how my friends, lesbians and women in general can put up with this bullshit, day after day. If that's being "a man" God forbid if I am ever one. I thought being "manly", if anything, was about manhandling (*drumsticks*) life with a stiff upper lip and a magnificent lumberjack beard, and even that is anachronistic and ridiculous. Or perhaps I'm just jelly of their manly ways. [OBLIGATORY: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rScMI1dypQs] Socializing in small, quiet environments is great, but then people start talking about their lives and I feel I don't belong, like they're way ahead of me, at a point where I should be but I'm not. Getting results and things done will fix that, and then I'll just have to overcome what by now is an irrational social phobia. But hey, nothing to worry about, and this time I'm not being sarcastic. It can be fixed. 5 days clean again! Okay, I've got this. I'm now used to translate at least a single word every day. I've never needed to resort to a single word, my minimum has been 350+, fortunately it's a way of speaking. The next habit I want to develop is drawing at least one line every day. So much things to do MY GOD! It's so easy to feel overwhelmed. For each victory there are twenty things still on queue. Ok, don't panic. Gotta go now, I have something else to write about but I've spent too much time writing this one. Still having issues with time management, as you can see...!

Wow, the sun never sets at Game Quitters! Truly amazing, and it's growing each day. Edit: I see too much white at the left, hopefully we can fix that!

I'm curious, is there some kind of statistic (not names, just figures) about where do game quitters come? I know we have US, canadians, germans, british, polish, at least one spaniard (who might him be I wonder...), some other(s?) from China if I recall... Also, is there some statistic about where does the traffic/browsing come?

Not really, no. But you can never be fully sure with antidepressants, when they're working and when it's just a coincidental general life improvement? How do they relate? Etc. At least this time I've reduced them before quitting, others (two more times) were cold turkey (never do that guys). I'll be much more serious with meds from now on. The slight edge. Even the smallest action can turn the tide on a downward spiral. Now the issue would be reaching 0 and positive numbers, but if you don't know where that 0 is, well, you can enjoy and cherish the upward ride. Speaking of which: I went clubbing yesterday. I invested a great amount of effort and a relatively large sum of money to be social and functional. It worked. I don't like clubbing very much, but seeing my friends was great. Former friends from former happy times (theatre 'n stuff). I was full of angst and post traumatic stress but I prevailed (somehow), so I'm proud. Still, despite how much I enjoy my friends' company, the act of being that kind of social is terribly draining. Much more than anything else: more than self-improving, working, exercising, keeping a discipline and a routine... the only thing harder is keeping my mind steadfast against existential despair and death panic (which is increasingly hard, but still I prefer it). I don't understand why among all the more or less dull things I have to do in order to work properly this one is the hardest. You know, it should be fun, funnier than anything else I mean. Yeah, perhaps what I don't like is the format, but it's not like there are too much alternatives. It's the easiest and simplest way to throw yourself at the street and have the chance to meet tons of different people with multiple styles, hobbies and trades. There are alternatives, but they tend to be more oriented to fewer, kindred people. Clubbing is Socializing 101, or whatever that is said. I was supposed to be social again right now (I should be already outside), I'll decide on it in the next seconds. Gamefree since Thursday; that is 82 hours.

So cool! You've actually made me think about trying my own podcast/videoblog/talking/thing. Wish you a great weekend!

After consecutive failures, I've started a full detox again today. Yesterday I couldn't get up and today I'm feeling ill. I've been quitting on some antidepressants these last two weeks, reducing the intake little by little, but I'm terribly nauseous even so. It feels as if someone was doing pressure at the sides of my head with their knuckles, hitting every two or three minutes a neuron or nerve that makes me lose equilibrium and focus. I was prescripted by a doctor I don't plan to see again in the short or middle term (and that means I'm probably not seeing him ever again), so I don't see the point in taking something without control just for habit. If I go to another doctor and get the same or other prescription, I guess it would be ok to start taking meds again, but for now I think it's pointless. Besides, I'm way too self-conscious about my brain and anything that messes up with it. Even alcohol feels wrong. I'm feeling extremely unproductive this morning (wait, I "was", morning's gone already). I wanted to write but my idea hid inside my brain. Then I wanted to write something NSFW but selfishly decided to masturbate instead, so any kind of inspiration is gone until tomorrow. This nausea is slowly killing me, but I could bear with it for the sake of a greater purpose. I found some new study and job prospects, I'll research this afternoon or if not possible tomorrow morning, then write about it here. I have everything else sorted out. I have network. I have a schedule. All I need now is focus and will. Today is day 81. But day 81 of what? I've been playing so I haven't completed a 90 days detox. 60, yes, but not 90. I said before it was a 90 days period of "life improvement". And I think I've achieved some things. I'm going to devote the next 9 days in finding a short or medium term purpose. If I do, these 90 days will be totally worthy and my main goal accomplished. I'm sorry for changing my mind so many times over the course of these months, you must feel my journal is a big deception. In practical terms I haven't moved forward too much, unlike some other people here who work miracles after quitting. I'm really sorry. However, wouldn't be nice if my next journal entry was about what I've finally decided to study and why? And wouldn't be nicer if my first entry of september was about how I've started to actually study what I chose instead of pussy out? It would certainly be nice for me! And most importantly, why "pussy out" means to flee, how is that related to a woman's vagina? Do vaginas flee...? Well. Actually that's kinda arguable...... Or for example, in spanish "coñazo" ("coño" means pussy, and "azo" states bigness or movement) means something or someone awfully boring. Assuming language was made over the course of generations mostly by heterosexual privileged males, since when were vaginas boring for those people? Or were they referring to what they believed was the annoyance who was in possession of the item, in this case a woman, namely their wife? Sexism is a terrible thing. Why can't we just be nice to each other? Also fuck gender roles, if I ever marry a woman I want her to be a life partner in equal terms, not some kind of brainwashed, unquestioning maid, that sounds boring as hell. And no, goodness, that doesn't necessarily mean femdom. N-not always. ANYWAY! I'll try to be productive this afternoon, but I can't make promises. Wish me fortune, I'll try to bring back good news.

Congratulations!! You know, praise and encouragement is not exactly my best skill, but you did it mate! Looking forward to hear more from you.

Legacy, Mastery and Freedom. He appears to be one of these post new-age Utilitarianism gurus: heavy focus on environmentalism, emotional intelligence, entrepreneuring... Many would find his thesis idealistic and utopian at best. Am I one of those skeptic people? Nah, I don't think so*. Related, Did you know more than 75% of the spanish youth wants to become a civil servant? What do you think about this? * I'm just cynical by nature and tend to question (and mock) values and ideas no matter how much I personally agree with them. Some people find that extremely unnerving... and I can understand why. I think I've said this before. You know, about ideas, it's the same with newspapers and news in general. People don't watch news to be informed, they watch news to be convinced. If they wanted to be informed why they choose to read a certain newspaper or watch a certain tv channel over the rest? The reason you recommended me this, and why I chose to read it is because we believe in it to some extent (any extent). You could have recommended me one of those articles in Cracked that could be summarized with "Get the green and be an asshole". But you didn't, that makes a difference. Makes me wonder, it's all about our own idea of what does life mean, isn't it? Anyway, I can allow myself to be utopian. I was born with options. I'm not oppressed by my socio-economical status, but things could become really grim if I keep sitting idle. So, - What do I like to do for the people? - Legacy - What do I like to do for myself? - Mastery - What do I expect from my work? - Freedom I like to make people question themselves and the world around them. I'm confident I can convince almost anyone of almost anything if I truly want to and try enough. I don't usually want; why should I? Especially lately with my current relativism, but it could be a very useful skill, to motivate people or convince them I'm the right guy for X, for example. I also seem to have some skill making people feel uneasy or sorrowful, but my trump card for sure is comedy. I'd like to actively help people but my empathy is a bit lacking. Or rather, my ability to react to others' emotional distress. So I guess my best service to the community could be something that many people find helpful and enlightening, by written form or direct contact, but without too much closeness. In terms of personal preference, I like introspective stuff the most. Music, Writing, drawing. Even acting, dancing, traveling or doing sports are introspective activities for me. I can accept to work in a team without reluctance, but only if we are aiming at a goal bigger than myself; if I can achieve something without others, I prefer that option. I won't whine if I'm in a group, it's just a subconscious tendency. The third one is the most tricky I think. I guess I want a job that wipes away my existential boredom. I wouldn't mind becoming some sort of ridiculously overdone "real-life opera character" if it was entertaining. I wouldn't mind danger or disdain. Ideally, I want a life where people would understand my fickleness as "part of the job". Ideally, I want a life where I could be understood. But if that can't be achieved (and now I know it can't), I want my life to be fun. My idea of fun is huge. Fun is the opposite of boring, and boring is immobility. Tragedy is fun. Happiness is fun. Working and struggling is fun. Relaxing is fun as well. Watching things happen fills me with some strange lighthearted joy. So I want to make things happen, and things to happen to me. Perhaps that's why I hate death (besides primal fear). Death is the complete immobility, and I'm just too used to live. I like being alive and having problems; it's fun. Maybe if I grow tired of life my mind will change. Ask me again in 60 years or so. Honestly speaking, I don't think I'm getting any closer. I don't want to make a rash choice as always, I want to feel I have some control over my own things. Well, sitting around writing the same things over and over again won't help. I've already played today, so starting tomorrow I'm going to get serious again with quitting. I've already made a full schedule! Now it's just sticking to it. I'll try my best and write again.

It was, thank you kindly! - Day 75. Days since beginning of Log: 130 Yesterday was completely wasted. Today I plan to be extra productive. Panic and mental disarray have been constants this week, but at the same time I've been feeling something else, new and interesting. I got the feeling this is a new stage in my life. I'm not in the "education" stage anymore. From now on, education is something I'll be providing myself anytime I need or want it, instead of a general, mandatory situation. I'm not sure how to explain. I'm not a child or a teenager anymore. I'm an adult (I guess.). I can choose. Going to school is completely optional (albeit very advisable). That's both a relief and a concern. The practical outcome (aka what I'm actually trying to say) is I'm no longer feeling self-coerced to enter a job training. But I still don't know what I'll be doing next. I'm lost. Not "desperate" lost, as I was months ago, when I began this journal. Stray. Objectively speaking, is a huge step. But I can't concede. I can't feel the progress, the small victories over myself. That makes me sad, no need for any other pretentious word. Just sad. It makes me feel it doesn't matter. Just thinking about it makes my head spin but I NEED to sort it out. NOW. What. The fuck. I'm going to do. Seriously, no more beating around the bush. Right now. Alan Watts would say "Forget about the money". Well, if so, theatre is by far the way to go. But... I'm afraid. Should I try again in my former school and make a glorious return? Should I try somewhere else? More humble or more ambitious? Should I focus in short courses and specialize instead of a general training? Okay, chill now. First things first. - What do I like the most in life? 1. Acting 2. Writing 3. Politics 4. Humour 5. Traveling Since one of my main problems is reluctance to give up options, let's give it a new approach. Combinations. 1 and 3 complement each other, politics is acting when you're a candidate. But it could be also approached in a low-profiled way, making use of 2. (Cabinet member?) Or perhaps 5! (Protocol or one of these new frivolous positions, manager or organizer of some sort, that's interesting and would make my mother the happiest woman on Earth. Going to parties and being seen with famous folks? Happiest. Woman. On Earth.) 2 can complement 3, 4 and 5, or 1 if I work as scriptwriter. 3 and 4 can mix together (satiric commentator perhaps?), and can be aided by 1. My own Saturday Night Live Show, cool! 5 is the most "open" element of the list but I like to keep it in mind. Finally, 1 and 5 would be daring, but emotionally rewarding. A lot. Now we're talking! I still don't know what to do but all those options seem so much interesting than doing whatever just for the sake of do anything. Let's see, what kind of skills and knowledge I need to develop in order to aim for anything of those? 1. Charisma and acting skills 2. Healthy lifestyle 3. Writing skills 4. General knowledge/culture Now, if I want to go further into anything related to 3, very probably I'll need more specific skills and a college degree (even if just for prestige), but that's long term. So focus on those 4 things. Which are... very generic, to say the least. They seem completely unimportant. A waste of time I could use studying something useful. And yet they are the most important aspects in one's life but... what happens with... titulations?? See, always the same story. You get what I'm saying? Then I'll feel compelled to study some unwanted garbage just to get a titulation at anything, completely ignoring what I'd really like to pursue, then I'll be unhappy and unmotivated and I'll drop it. Why couldn't I be a Computer Engineering or Law student, LIKE FUCKING EVERYONE ELSE!? (Sorry if you're one of those, no offense. But seriously guys, you're mainstream as f***) Jesus, I need some serious help with this shit. Not with my dating life. That's beyond repair. Again the headache. Maaaaaan. No, focus. So what do I need to do next? They are actually things I can improve everyday so I don't need a special schedule for those. But it feels incomplete. I need to do something else. Something else I can't find. Or is it just my imagination? I have some other activities planned but... I wish there was a specific activity I could do to advance towards my objective. Something that was pretty obvious. Like... in a videogame. But life is more like a sandbox. There's not a specific objective. Sigh, now I understand.

- Day 73 I was writing a post full of unrelated bullshit about how shitty I was feeling lately and not so lately, but then the premiere of my theatre play arrived and I felt I should write about that instead. So the overall sensations are quite good; better than expected actually. I was expecting to be mercilessly assailed by anxiety, melancholy, nostalgia, self-doubt, pointless euphoria… but none of those appeared. Monday and Tuesday, I just did what I was supposed to do and a bit more, kept my cool at all times, received well-deserved applause (objectively speaking, at least as a reward for not missing a single word nor gesture of the screenplay), exchanged pleasantries with the audience, words and hugs of encouragement with the rest of the troupe, then crashed home tired and satisfied with a job well done. And here we are today, in my increasingly routine worktime with my dev friend. (Well. “Dev” or “Developer” is a very big word for him, the same as I wouldn’t call myself a… “writer”, for example) Of course I heard stuff like “You should make a job of this” and “This truly is your path” aplenty during these two days, and I didn’t expect less. You know shit is serious when 15 year old teenagers who were obliged to watch the play (the hardest kind of audience) massively approach you after watching the whole thing silent and even cooperative, and say: “I was expecting this to be boring as fuck, but it turned out to be cool, you got a knack for this”, one after another. So I really must have an acceptable skill and talent for this acting thing. After all, dramatic approach to life runs in my family… So now I have this bad feeling on the back of my head pounding and aching, but it’s more manageable than I thought it would be. "I could still try". "I can always try". Oh no, not this again. Again the endless debate. What I like vs. What I should. And the clock keeps ticking. And ticking. Existentialism levels are exceeding safe parameters so fuck it. I still have to do things today.

Brief update: This month's first days were shit. My dear ex-girlfriend used to say I have the obnoxious habit of giving up the whole day if it started badly instead of trying to patch up things. And now I see she was right. For example, yesterday I was late for my drawing class. So instead of going late I didn't go at all. I was supposed to study for the driving license with a friend but I holed up in my room instead and just slept. Now I'm here with my enthusiastic developer bro (even if I'm awake since 3:00 am) but only because I set up an imaginary firewall named "tomorrow", instead of setting up an imaginary firewall named "right now". The problem is, if the firewall tomorrow also fails, I lose another day just waiting for the next. And one fail makes easier to fail again, so a day can become a week, a month and so on. But if the firewall now fails, trying again only takes a few seconds. It doesn't take rocket science to see which method is better. Well, I'll concede a little and admit I'm proud of this new routine I'm trying to implement, but there are just so many mistakes, so much inefficiency... I'm plenty patient with others but way too harsh with myself. Oh, wait, I'm not patient with others in the slightest, so maybe I'm plenty hypocrite for keeping quiet about it? You know these folks who are always yelling at people and are like in a constant anger, and when you tell them they answer indignant: "I'm just honest with what I think/feel!" I never wanted to be one of those people and be always arguing and making trouble, so if being diplomatic makes me a hypocrite, so be it. I was about to say something else but I can't put my finger on it right now.

I just wanted to say yesterday I translated 1800 words in two hours of standard work (not hurry, not slacking) while also attending all my other responsibilities at their correct time and I feel awesome for it. I was VERY optimistic about my Respawn completion estimate but at this new pace of work I can end it fairly soon and more importantly, without overexerting. The idea is to build habit, not to make a single-time titanic effort. Unless boss Cam says otherwise. I wish I could say that I did but... I didn't. I can't trample on his passion like that, it was just bad luck. Or perhaps it had to be that way. It depends on how things turn out on the long term. All good friendships have sharp sides, I guess I can consider me lucky for ours being this instead of something far worse. Unfortunately our personal views on games themselves and how should I take them are complete opposites and tend to clash. ("You don't have to quit cold turkey, that's being too extreme") Thank you for your feelings! I didn't realize too...! Well, it depends of what kind of work you're doing, if you're working exclusively for yourself or are part of something bigger (work out vs. office job for example), if you personally like the task... I like writing and doing various kinds of jobs, even repetitive ones, but I tend to view working as a mean. For instance: "I'm screwing all this screws to make a cupboard, not just because I enjoy the act of screwing (no pun) and makes me feel I'm doing something useful with my life" What I find really hard it's to find a higher purpose to things. When you're a kid you go to the beach and build sandcastles. You're perfectly aware the tide will rise and wipe your castle out eventually, you just don't give a crap about it since you're enjoying yourself. Then you grow up and rationalize the pointlessness of the act and most people never build a sandcastle again. They even have the nerve to call it childish. You know what's the actual thing everyone believes childish? Optimism. That's life man. The tides of death will eventually come and you'll dissolve in a sea of nothingness. And we're instinctually taught to make a fuss about it. We think we hold a right over our sandcastle just because we made it ourselves, we believe we deserve a cosmic reward for making the effort. Why should it be that way? It's just a bunch of sand molded into a shape, and it's no better than the water which will "destroy" it. So when people realize they won't be treated in a special way, no matter how much effort put into their sandcastle, they get pissed, they have a tantrum, many refuse to try anything. They believe it's some kind of strike, a retribution, a rebellion against the higher power who wants them to live. When actually they're just kids in front of a sandcastle. And things would be so simple if we just shrug off everything and get our hands dirty, shaping our very own castles and playing to be kings. At least that childish, optimistic approach would be in hindsight more reasonable than belonging to the bunch of stuck-up assholes with their rationalizations (excuses) trying to be "adults" and sabotaging the universe when, actually, are sabotaging themselves. - Whoa dude that was so smart, so how about making your own sandcastle too? Dunno man, I'm currently too engrossed with that fucking huge wall of nothingness coming closer to me, but if I ever get over my own silly self-importance and selfish existentialism I guess I could join you guys. After all you have the best attitude among the possible ones. I'm almost certain I'll play today. At least I'm gonna try to translate some more and put my social life in order (today's planned task). Sign off.

- Day 59 Schedule has begun today. No problems so far. Last week was mostly unproductive and immersed in compulsive gaming. At least I helped a friend with his religious duties dressing up as some kind of KKK impersonator and carrying a banner in a parade during Holy Week. No one inside the brotherhood wanted to do it (such hypocrisy) and I was curious about this peasant tradition, so there I was. I'm not religious but I must admit it was fun and beautiful. These gaudy catholics sure know how to put on a show! Being granted entrance to Heaven is a plus. Next thing is pilgrimage to Mecca, just in case. And start thinking in my next reincarnations... While taking care of my immortal soul is no joke, I'm more worried about earthly matters. I have good expectations about this new schedule but those voids still worry me. I'm afraid I will mess up the first moment I have free time. AND I've been playing a lot lately. Even if I'm being useful and productive I still don't have a clear reason to be here besides filling time doing something aside of playing. I should be proud of it, it's an achievement by itself (I could be playing now, for instance) and in a way I am, but I feel doing this stuff is more a mean than an end. I'm here, translating, writing, drawing, studying, ok, but for what higher reason? Yeah, to pass my time. But I could do that by playing as well, I don't want to think life is something you spend being busy just because. I feel better doing this instead of playing so I guess the sense of purpose it's not something that you have but something you develop with time. It's too soon to draw conclusions, I'll keep this routine for some days and update. As always, weekends are the perpetual Sword of Damocles, but fortunately I have several friends to catch up with. And also as always, my mood is stormy and volatile but in the overall I feel all the fine I can achieve. I'm learning more and more quirks of my disposition are inherited, particularly things about aforementioned mood. I still have control and choice over how I handle this mood, and certainly I do in a different way than my mother (on the inside at least), but being something "natural" and not the result of circumstances means I'll have to struggle with it, with varying results, during all my lifetime. That's not enough to fill me with despair, but it sure is annoying. Anyway I still have two arms, two legs, some brains and with effort I could even be somewhat cute. No matter what my melodramatic self thinks, my life could be far, far worse. I'm getting sidetracked. Right, schedule, check, weekend, check, social, check, purpose, check. I guess the only thing left is what to do about games. I think I'm going to start another detox to see if I can life my life with a schedule and without games at the same time. I played yesterday so today is the first day. If I'm correct tomorrow is day 60 so a month would be a valid timespan. But that's getting ahead, let's see if I can survive this week to begin with.

- Day 47 An absolute mess. Hard relapse, lost all hope, skipped every activity... utter chaos. My best friend stepped in with his white charger and heroically pulled me out of the hole. He's determined, optimistic, passionate, loyal. We've made a schedule together and arranged to be accountability partners to each other. A life-saver. There's only one problem about him. He's an aspiring videogame developer and Computer Engineering student. Two problems actually. He wants us to become a team, me being the scriptwriter and perhaps tinker (given my current knowledge) some soundtracks. So he (unintentionally) planted doubts in my almost certain decision to study a trade (Grado Medio). Specifically, I told him about my translations here (actually I've been translating now and then since very young) and went all enthusiastic about it. Perhaps a bit too... pushy. In fact he wants me to be some kind of translator/community manager of some sort. Those doubts created me a sense of uncertainty and fear and everything went to shit. A shit he then proceeded to help me clean. So it's kinda contradictory. What should I do about him? He's my best friend. He has trouble understanding my detox but he's respectful nonetheless. But his constant chatter about games it's not exactly helpful or relaxing. He can't help it though. After all, we're supposedly making a game together...! [My secret research (not so secret, "low profile" more accurately), is going better than expected. I was overreacting when mentioned PTSD. I just have to be careful, at least that's my current assessment. But I have great expectations about it. This is going to be fun.] - "Fixed" activities: - Dancing classes - Drawing classes - Theatre rehearsals (until April) - Scheduled activities (with my friend): - Drawing - Translating - Preparing English Test (at least B2, perhaps C1 but I think that's still beyond my level) - Programming (I MUST learn to make Visual Novels I swear to God) - Learning to make music using computer programs - Watch anime and series to find muses to draw (in anime) and perhaps good arguments and tropes (in series). - Bit of exercise (Gym) - Still un-scheduled: - Driving license (may be done with my friend as well in our "work time" together) - Writing (must be done alone because personal preference, still not sure where and when) - Weekends - Leisure activities (sometimes alone, sometimes not) - Among leisure and perhaps writing, going outside. I found a great spot in the city walls where you can sit and have a great visual of the beach and the sea (and even the archetypal fort, lovely!), while also being covered of the sun. Needless to say, I'll try to go there often. Now is calm, with few people, nice, slightly cool weather... exactly how I love it. Perhaps I'd like it a little more cool but still pleasant. Things look bright, actually. I'll fuck up some (or many) more times but I think I have the grasp of how's it done, life management and all the jazz. But I still don't know what to do in the mid-term; and this friend of mine and his games...

I feel you there, SO MUCH, I almost fell for the "boring" trap. I could sense how it was more and more appealing to play just to shrug off boredom (if that's even a verb/thing). However I'm clean again, this week was over in a breath. So even if I'm still struggling with filling the void, keeping myself away from games is becoming easier. Excellenciousness! Perhaps they were too shocked to see me? 80% of students are recent retirees so the generational clash is huge. And it was just the first day so it's not so serious. I couldn't go this week because family issues (Grandma has begun to literally run away when no one's home). On tuesday I'll go anyway, "y que sea lo que Dios quiera". I have nothing against physical activity. Just normal laziness and a fair bit of self-consciousness with my body. It's just about being too thin and frail, so I can always solve it with sport and nutrition. And that is hard. Really. Losing weight must be a bitch (I'll probably never know), but keeping in your healthy figures is equally tough no matter where you come from. And also clerics. How does one get in trouble with clerics? *GASP* (No offense) And I still can't push myself into taking walks or even considering bodyweight exercises. Score is even. I think you're absolutely right. Staying inside everyday is becoming increasingly unbearable. The day will arrive when I'll go for a jog too, and it's quite near. I'll update on it when I finally do it, but I feel it will be a great decision. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - Day 34 Quick update. Week was a bit chaotic. Failed some habits. Making a schedule has become an absolute must. I'll try to stick to it next week, then update again. I had a conversation with my best friend about my role as volunteer translator and he was fully supportive, filled me with determination. So now translations are advancing steam-powered (and not Steam-powered, hah). I think I made a HUGE breakthrough in my quest towards identity. Not the spaniard stereotype, I mean my inner, most fundamental self. It's highly introspective, private, confidential, probably dangerous to my mental wellbeing, but the potential applications of this new line of research are... intriguing. And thrilling! I can't wait to obtain and measure the first results, even if I can share virtually none of them. As if I was my own little science project. DIY psychological survey, one person only. Isn't science lovely? Some people dabble with drugs, I dabble with PTSD. Is something wrong with me, I wonder...?

- Day 26 It couldn't last. After a terrible week full of terrible feelings and avoiding everything and everyone, I had a relapse. Or maybe I should say "Introspective analysis of the effects of gaming in my cognitive processes". I expected to sink in weeks and weeks of gaming to no end. I've spent some good hours with several games for several days and suddenly realized something. I wasn't going to bed late. I wasn't waking up early to play. I was playing for a while, eating "normally", then playing for a while, but also listening to music, watching TV or Internet silliness. I wasn't absorbed as I used to be. I was bored. Bored! I was playing, yes. I was having fun, yes. But I was fully aware of myself. My situation didn't change. I can't disconnect anymore with games. So, I'm here again. Now the only thing I can do is to move forward and try new things, because games won't do for me anymore. I can play, but I realize I'm wasting time. Not because gaming is not an acceptable pastime, but I feel I'd rather be doing other things. That's awful. Awful, you hear me!? Now I have to do stuff! It was bound to happen. I guess is a huge step. Now I know games bore me. And social games are meh, so perfect. Really, I'm in a very advantageous situation. I mustn't underestimate the influence games still have over me, but I think I won this round. Today is holiday here, so my theatre rehearsal was yesterday. I wanted to explain my sudden absence the week before but I was too focused in making a good impression and time just flew. A great success, I dusted off the bad sensations of previous days. It was already settled, but still I made clear I'm the star there, hah! I went to collect my Secondary Education Degree, after six years waiting for me in my school. "His Royal Majesty [...] hereby grants...". Such grandiloquence. Like knighthoods of old. We haven't changed at all, us humans. Anyway, one of the most irritating chores I had on the list, done. I was so bored this week, I went and tried something I had on mind for some time now: flamenco dancing. The past me would be outraged. That calls for some insight. When I was little I was basically a stuck-up asshole. Everything gave me what we would call "vergüenza ajena", or Fremdscham in German. Basically, anything artistically related, dancing, singing, or culturally rooted would give me the creeps. I couldn't stand all those fucking peasants worshiping their peasant traditions. Or children in contests. Or anyone trying to be innovative, especially if business-related. I still can't, they're full of crap, pretentiousness and are basically posers. But I missed many chances of having fun, making friends and being a healthy human being, and I couldn't tolerate that. So I developed the habit of trying things I'd find the farthest of my perceived identity. "The last thing I would picture me doing". The first one was theatre, and I couldn't be happier with that decision. Seriously people, go out of your comfort zone. Worst case you'll have some laughs. If you're doing something you think you shouldn't be doing, how could you end being disappointed? That's your little ego crying out, I know it too well. You have to be a pro from the start even in things you think you don't like or aren't your natural element. See the fallacy? So there, I went and tried. Of course I was the only man in the whole academy. I did terrible. I talked to no one. Everything in my personal manual I could do wrong, I did. And somehow I had a great time. I went home and for once I wasn't thinking about quitting. Maybe the next month, but not now. So, for the next days at least, I've found something I don't need to be good at to feel fulfilled, because it's so unlike me, even being decent would be an astonishing and improbable scenario. A really pleasant one, for the same reason. Who knows, perhaps I'm at the gates of being an awesome dancer just because I'll practice a lot only for the laughs and master it without being aware. Sounds totally like me. Not the best example of personal development and self-management, but if works, to hell with it. I won't be picky. AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY, IT'S ANOTHER STEP TOWARDS BECOMING THE PERFECT SPANIARD STEREOTYPE. Why would I ever want that? Who knows. I find the idea absurd. Laughable. PERFECT. And I do since I was really little. Perhaps I should seriously go for it. Even if it's completely nonsense. If life's goal is to be happy, and I seem to be happy pissing on ideologies, traditions and sociocultural constructs, then what else could I do? I was born that way. So, TO DO LIST TO BECOME THE PERFECT SPANIARD (STEREOTYPE) 1. Theatre: In progress. 2. Fencing: In progress. I have basic skills and took lessons but had to quit because my terrible physical condition. I'll start again as soon as I can. Then I'll go for historical recreation. 3. Dancing: In progress. Flamenco, sevillanas and pasodobles, at least. 4. Singing: Several folk styles. Fondly despised by the nationals. Fondly because it's an ambivalent feeling. 5. Bull-fighting: I absolutely refuse to kill a sentient being for the amusement of some peasant fascists, but I can still learn the technique. It will do wonders for my posture, strength, and popularity if I travel abroad! 6. Sailing: Obviously. Comes in hand with 8. 7. Poetry: Sonnets. SONNETS! And some Romanticism. 8. Religion?: Eugh. Some religious studies (Catholic, of course!) and insights. Extravagant idioms and expressions. Visit many, many churches. 9. Languages: Catalan, Basque and Galician. 10. Traditions: Football, Ferias, Holy Week and Carnival for my own region, and other regional traditions from the overall territory. Bonus: Looks. Which looks? I must ponder it more deeply. Some people want to improve in life. Find a job. Find love. I just want to be entertained. Maybe I should be playing. Tfw you wanna be Lope de Vega but end like Quevedo

I discovered the detox is on since February 1st, so it's going to be easy to keep track from now on I wrote before "not going to be hard" and changed it. I have to start thinking, talking and writing in positive terms. - Day 19 Friday... before morning. Thursday night but technically Friday, you know. What does my detox stand for? I've been clean for more than 19 days and yet I haven't made an specific goal to accomplish at the end of these 90 days. I think the mere fact of being aware you've decided to detox can be enough, as Cam usually says, to at least think about the current situation and visualize a life without games. Fair enough, but still feels a bit... the word is not "empty". Perhaps "too general". Like, I'm just sitting here waiting for something to happen. -> Specifically, I've been completely clean for 29 days, and I'm absolutely sure hours played in all of January don't exceed 25. They must be around 20. -> And Steam-clean since... Oh my god! December 15th! Which means that, except for 2 hours of a free VN I sometimes read, I haven't touched ANY Steam game for 16 days plus ALL of 2016 so far! Whoa, I didn't expect it to be so much time. That makes... 65 days!! Astounding. Now I can understand why cravings have been so intense lately. But I still waste all my time doing nothing at all! Literally laying on the couch all day. Except for two days of rehearsals and one day of drawing class. 6 hours plus let's say 4 hours of related activity (getting ready to go, going, returning home...) makes 10 hours. I'm busy 10 hours a week. Rest of the week laying on couch. Many times sleeping on the same couch. Practicing for the coffin, huh? Completely unacceptable! Ahem. So here I am, for example, 4.35am right now. That's the perfect example of not having a standardized and proper time management. And I still waste a LOT of time watching game film or general idiocies. The price I usually have to pay to avoid a detox usually is 2-4 hours of watching others play, or stupid videos on YT. Or, well, writing a looooong journal post, like now. Worth it, even more now that I know it's been 65 days. Wow, 65 days. I could write it again and again and still sound so alien. My social life has plummeted, I lost contact in these months (September-February) with almost every single friend. I've been the one hiding, ashamed of my idleness and lack of direction. And going out, except when projects-related, has been an extremely unpleasant, stressful and unsatisfactory activity, for reasons I detail below: My social interactions work like this: 1. I can't talk about myself, so I remain silent, just enjoying the company and surroundings. People always end assuming I'm not having a good time. They repeatedly ask if I'm alright or bored. Hm, perhaps there's a cultural clash here. For the average southern spaniard is very, and I mean very uncanny to be around silent people. I talk plenty myself (that may be an added reason for their insistence), but always with a message in mind. Unlike many fellow countrymen, I daresay... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By the way, do you also get the impression I talk and make references about my country a lot? I wasn't aware of that. Maybe it's curiosity I feel about other cultures which makes me want to share plenty of things and thoughts about my own, subconsciously expecting others to act the same way in turn. And an inappropriate and childish habit (I admit) of making fun of others countries with an endless stream of stereotypes, intertwined with a bigger, more general, and even more childish and inappropriate habit of "poking" and teasing people with sensible topics. I'm also greatly interested in learning stereotypes about Spain, since 99.9% of jokes, criticism and hate I hear about us comes from the inside. Your help is crucial and would be extremely appreciated! That's probably the primary reason why we can't have nice things and into space or economy, @Marchosias, being spaniard means being raised in 400 years of continuous victimism, defeatism, and ignorance of our own history. Certainly not the best country to start a business or quit an addiction. Egad! I could research about how the different cultural treatment of failure affects the recovering of addictions! It's been already researched how it has affected our economy (For example, a north-american is more encouraged to be independent and enterprising while here work abroad, leave the family behind or start a business was broadly regarded as a bad idea; or northern europeans having worse weather and therefore gathering less, becoming less gregarious but more diligent). And since in my culture "to lose" generally makes you a "loser"... Double egad! The potential social and psychological implications are both fascinating and terrifying! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ AS I WAS SAYING, excuse me...! 2. I talk about the only topic I'm confident enough, my problems. Talking about hobbies leave me the impression I'm avoiding the main concern in my life, achieving a purpose. I feel I'm fooling myself and even if a had plenty of hobbies, (not the case currently) I'd still feel uncomfortable talking about them. So, my problems. People do their best to empathize and while I'm grateful, precisely that's why I don't want to bother (and bore) them. More. Anymore. It creates a negative, pessimistic aura around me. 3. A few people even bring the subject on the table before I have the chance of talking (and driving it off), delivering a long argumentation usually appealing to feelings and dramatic existentialism ("Time is merciless, you must hurry...!") to urge me into choosing a path, generally artistically related (writing, acting...). And I end up feeling like shit afterwards, as you can imagine. Happened yesterday and I'm still affected. Probably happening today as well. Pleeeease, gimme a break...! I guess now that I've SOMEWHAT made a decision and SOMEWHAT feel I have a direction I can always meet new friends or even the old ones without feeling out of place, but stoically refuse to talk about myself, how I'm feeling or my past. So questions "How are you feeling?", "What have you been doing lately?" "What are your plans for...?" or the dreaded "What do you do?" are banned. How could anybody hold a meaningful, pleasant conversation on equal terms and keep a healthy closeness with ANYONE under such conditions? It's just ridiculous! It's a dead end. The first: Okay, in the intimacy or closed environments (such as this). The second: Never! People don't give a fuck about vulnerable men. People want strength, confidence, clear-sightedness! I don't want to disappoint you, but showing weakness is the easiest way to lose network, potential works, friends, lovers... which is exactly why I feel so damn bored and weary about being social. I don't feel like playing the game of life. I'm not in the mood. But I guess I still need to do it? Everything a chore, everything a chore, don't you slack with those oars, oh brave Volga boatmen... 8:00! Well at least now I know for sure it's day 19. A person I hold very dear in my heart made a drawing of me for theatre, so "work-related" purposes. It's a rough sketch, and she kept saying it wasn't a big deal, but I got instantly drawn to it. It has... something, which depicts me perfectly, better than any photograph up to date (even if they aren't precisely many...). I'll end today's post showing it to you: Pleased to meet you, I guess...!

- Day 12 16 I finally arrived to this conclusion. I could try my luck in trade learning and if it really isn't my thing I could always finish it (two years it's not so long), change it or even leave it after the first year and try theatre again. I've been wasting year after year doing nothing, I should be ok investing the next one or two actually trying to find my path. I'll be busy doing something in the mornings, which will fill the void of having a purpose. Learning something not emotionally engaging and not of my first tier of priorities, so I won't grow dispassionate or anxious about it. Being social and mentally challenged. And still with time to develop hobbies and other passions (which could include theatre as well). And who knows, I could end loving that trade. That's the idea. It reminds me of the void projects of the past. But at least this is quite achievable. On the other hand, I hunger for a challenge and this seems like a downgrade. Who am I trying to fool? I can't even do the most basic things by myself! That's why I failed with theatre the first time! My eternal contradiction; I'm never satisfied with anything. So now I'm left with months of apparent inactivity waiting until classes begin. And cravings! I could spend all these months playing mindlessly. Or, sigh, trying to improve my life. Or half and half, but it would end being the first. People usually feel uncertainty, fear, anger, and I also do, but now I think about the future and I feel extreme boredom. I don't feel like doing anything at all. Not even things I enjoyed a week ago. Nice job breaking it! I mean myself, the detox and the forums are pure awesomium. I'm a veteran, hah! I've never been a veteran in anything. Yesterday I won against an intense craving for Civ. Today I may not be so lucky. I'm not too worried though, perhaps I need a relapse now and then to hit the bottom one or two more times and regain my determination. Or begin building it at least. But I can't shake the feeling anything I do is a wrong choice. Unrelated: I had a dream about this forum in which someone anonymous was complaining of my presumptuous and terrible use of English. I'll try to improve it even if just in case.

- Day 11 (of 90 days of Life Improvement): [EDIT: I SAID DAY 11 BUT I JUST RECEIVED 15 DAYS SURVEY. MFW CAN'T INTO BASIC MATHS] Days since last game: 25 Days since last VN: Perhaps a week Days since last Steam game: A lot! Two months probably ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I'm feeling suicidal again. I recognize it because the idea of cutting my throat with a kitchen knife doesn't inspire fear or rejection, but feels actually plausible instead. Like it would feel if you were thinking about going for a walk and buy some coffee or staying home instead. I recognize the danger to my safety in a non-instinctive way. I mean I have to make an effort to think it's probably not the best idea. Thankfully thinking is easy for me, so it doesn't take a big effort at all. A tired sigh ends it all and the feeling is replaced by a harder to handle but way safer feeling of failure and defeat. I survived another day, yay, but why? It doesn't feel like a victory at all. Not even like a battle. Just a hassle. I refused to go to drawing classes despite I was so anxious to go I even slept with clothes on. I've been flirting quite successfully with a girl lately, via text, but I couldn't care less. Writing simply doesn't flow. Oh, but at least I finished the first translation of GQ related material, it felt wonderful yesterday. Today, however... I have the feeling I won't be able to give a fuck about anything until I decide the most important decision, what I'm going to do with my near future. I seem to work that way, I can't focus on minor things until I sort the big ones. But enjoying minor things is key to decide the big ones, so I'm a bit screwed. Everything feels boring and annoying. "Oh, so I need to solve who I am? Yeah, sure, why not, sigh." You're truly welcome. It feels terrible, like a hearing at court. I would declare me guilty of all charges. Half of it I was unlucky and the other half I deserve everything. But there's no room for improvement, and that's my fault. It feels like I was gifted with everything but nature gave me a psychological handicap to balance it. Like performing photosynthesis in a high-class restaurant. This Fiverr stuff is awesome! Thanks a lot! I couldn't become an asshole because of my own problems. At my worst people just seem annoying NPCs. Why would I unleash a shitstorm over an NPC? It's not their fault being there. That's my own view, I understand the reward processes behind hate. Alcohol and drugs? Nah. I have mysterious cravings for the first, sometimes really intense, but I keep them at bay nicely. Strive, huh. I don't know sir. I really don't know. Sometimes I feel all proud and mighty, deserving, and I act accordingly. Others it just doesn't make any sense, as now. Others I feel I don't want to be a nuisance but even that doesn't push me. You know... if I'm going to die anyway, there are many times I feel I want to spend my days doing nothing in particular. Meditating. Helping people. Working with my hands, writing on commision, taking care of the environment, watching the clouds. Some kind of monastic or ascetic life, yes. But studying any kind of religion would surely bore me to death. Or perhaps not? And what if I want to do something else in life? Can I study something while in a monastery of any sort? If the answer was positive I'd sign right now. [EDIT: I was feeling like shit but I saw who is probably the worst journalist in my country (and therefore my obvious favorite) on TV and now I feel strangely invigorated. The motherfucker keeps writing in some of the most relevant media about how women deserve to be beaten because they're sluts, letting your daughter or girlfriend go to Erasmus makes you an instant cuckold, foreigners deserve to die, Deus Vult bullshit and so on. An extremely amusing aberration.] [EDIT 2: I saw this in Marchosias' Journal and tried my own: I wasn't expecting that... but seems logical. I guess is the technical definition of while being a skeptical bastard. So I'm a thing now? While thinking about it I'll start with the basics: the beard. History teaches us left becomes evil in direct proportion to lack of facial hair.

The spanish version of Once upon a December, from Disney's Anastasia got stuck in my head. I declare it "Former post's official soundtrack". I used to hate child's movies as a child myself. I must be growing older and even more melancholic. The lyrics are disturbingly fitting: My mother watched Goodbye Lenin by my recommendation yesterday and now is being strangely kind to me. She's even kissed me on the cheek by her own accord. Creepy. Tomorrow we're watching Admiral together, and I'll probably indulge in soviet melodramas and junk food by myself. And of course Doctor Zhivago. That's my personal way to devote to the spirit of mainstream romanticism. I'll also try to publish a short text and if I'm melancholic mood enough, read some XIX century french and british poetry. What could be any better than that? You don't understand anything, sigh.

I can't go to University, I don't have the High-School Degree (Baccalaureate) Q. Get it then? A. A fourth attempt? Two years surrounded by teenagers doing something I both hate and find hard? No. Never. Absolutely never. Q. But wasn't Dramatic Arts a college/university? A. Yes but no, that's why I could enter. Legislation bullshit. Day 8... ...was completely wasted laying in bed. Nothing was accomplished today. Well, yes, I haven't been playing and that's an accomplishment by itself. But my main objective is having a life so I can struggle avoiding letting games ruin it. That's way harder, it takes active action. Quit playing, in my case, takes passive action: /not/ playing. I don't want to downplay its merit. It's just... I know what I mean. Since I don't have anything to report today and I've been losing focus and motion lately, I think it's... STORY TIME! [Cue Sir Michael Hordern's narrating voice] By what means Hitaru ended in Dramatic Arts and screwed his life shortly after I was 16 and had just finished compulsory education. My school offered Baccalaureate but decided to transfer schools to that of my "friends" from that moment and flee from many bad memories (bullying during mid-school). Long story short, something awful happened (conspiracy-tier happenings), I lost said "friends", got separated from the rest, quit school and ended in a terrible co-dependent relationship. We supported each other's delusions for two years. Absolute madness. But hey, I'm going to have great writing material thanks to that. I love a good dark story or mindfuck, even if it's based on my own experiences. I value dramatic tension over happiness in my life. I broke up with this girl and there I was, uneducated, my mind a mess and games as my only company. The first thing I did after breaking up was taking a (much needed) shower and cut my hair. Then, somewhat similar to Cam, I started to go out, seeking out acquaintances and distant friendships lost in the way. The idea was good but the results were terrible. By the end of 2013, 8 months after the breakup if I recall correctly, it was pretty clear I wasn't going anywhere with that plan. New Year's Eve, my self-imposed final exam, was a complete disaster. A lifelong friend even gave me the cold shoulder because his new college friends found me "a weirdo". Talking to the same and only person for months had left me scarred, I wasn't even aware of it until I began to go to parties and taking theatre lessons. I noticed how I would stutter and speak in a robotic manner in any social setting, from pure nervousness. At first I couldn't even open my mouth to say my name. It wasn't shyness but something else. I was completely stuck, at a loss for words. Terrifying in hindsight. On top of that, I couldn't (and still can't) answer to the question "What do you do?", since "Nothing" is not a valid answer. Please think about this. When you meet someone for the first time, the first question is always "What's your name", and then of course comes a "What do you do" (in life, what do you study, work, value, etc.). They have the same value. Can you imagine not being able to answer what your name is? It's crippling. An instant defeat. That's why I'm not very fond of social gatherings. Why theatre? I don't remember when it began exactly. I used to be terribly self-conscious, I hated singing, performing of any kind, child movies, talent contests... but at the same time I had my time as amateur stand-up comedian child. Any way, by the start of my first year of Baccalaureate I was certain I wanted to try. I joined the school's theatre club, led by the principal and also teacher and... it was pure bliss. There was nothing like that in my former school. I... I can't grasp the full extent of it. I was the bullied kid, the weirdo, the failed nerd, and suddenly I got the main role in that year's play right from the start and everyone was praising me for something I couldn't even start to expect of having talent at. Well, I was arrogantly confident in my ability before joining, but it was completely unfounded, a self-defense mechanism. And yet there I was. For the first time it had nothing to do with talent and expectations, I had already left behind a thing or two which I was fairly good at in the past. It was the goofy smile when I was on stage. It was the hurried lunches with my peers before rehearsals. Being part of a group of equals, even if they were younger, older, smarter, more social, more successful, happier, it didn't matter. It was the shine in their eyes brimming with approval and the spring in my step. It was the anticipation, looking forward to something from the first and only time in my life. I'd like to say "I'd never give up on that even if I was the worst actor in the world", and... I'd be lying. But I didn't need to be the best either and being me that was incredible. I wanted to share my trade, I wanted the applause of course, but I was my main judge and patron, not the other way around. It was about my own fulfillment. For the first time. The day of the premiere was undoubtedly the happiest in my life. Even if by then I had already quit school and was in the middle of the 'Friendspiracy'. Stuff happened later during summer, but that moment wasn't ruined. Nothing could have ruined it. I could have died that day; I wish I did. It felt like everything was already done, what else I had to achieve in life? I didn't care at all. Back to the nearer past again, I started with theatre lessons both to help my social skills and recover my lost passion. It didn't last long. By November I wasn't going anymore and for the next months I dabbled between void projects, each one exponentially less compelling than the last. And so March arrived. Probably the 6th. Thursday night. I was reading The Element. There was this british woman who had studied sciences but wanted to be a comedian. Said something about going for what you wanted, no looking back, jumping straight at it. Then something clicked in my mind. I don't know what the hell happened. I just felt I had enough, I wasn't going to spend my life reading about people bragging about their success, even if it wasn't their intention. I wasn't going to be a resented human waste. I wasn't going to grow old at mommy's place. I packed the book, underwear, socks, a towel (Douglas Adams tribute maybe), a bottle of water and all the money I could find at home, said goodbye to grandma dismissing all questions (It was near midnight, you know the thing elders have with time) and stepped outside. This woman I read about went to London to learn about the scene. I was keenly interested in politics back then, even joined the Socialist Party Youth (which now I somewhat regret, it may or may not work against me in the future), so by "logic" I had to go to the epicenter of the country's politics, Madrid. There I could visit some places and something would happen. Something inspiring. That was the plan. My first stop, the hospital. My mother was working a night shift. I showed up there and explained to her what was all that about. She looked at me with a mix of tired disbelief and shame. She wasn't in the mood for jokes and I was way too old for that kind of show. I wasn't in the mood too, and so I said: "I'm not looking for your approval, but your assistance. I can go or go back home. If I go back, I'm going to kill myself. I'm already living death after all, it doesn't make much of a difference". I'm not proud of that statement, but I was absolutely sure when it left my mouth. Sometimes I wonder what was that woman's crime to deserve birthing me. Some people have it tough. Anyway I managed to make my point crystalline, she agreed to cooperate and even pay a train ticket to Madrid (quite a handful), but only if I traveled on Monday. Maybe she wanted to buy time, maybe she hoped I would think twice and forget about it during the weekend, like I did with everything else. Maybe both. I don't know about your mothers, but objectively speaking I can't think of a more favorable deal. I could have accepted, go home, then try my luck with everything on my side just some days later. Except that I didn't. It had to be right now and then. She fumbled inside her pouch and gave me what little she had on her, 10 or 15 euros. With the 25 I already had it now was 35-40. I couldn't go far with that (I couldn´t go practically anywhere in fact), but couldn't pussy out either. So I went to the train station and was closed, I misunderstood the schedules and had to wait out in the cold from 1:00 to 6:00 ignoring all calls and texts from home and feeling really stupid. I was about to give up when I met a traveler. He asked me about the time of opening, apparently made a misjudgement similar to mine. He was talking in English and was pleased at having found an English speaker the first try (my government will end banning me for this kind of comments). He introduced himself as some kind of Australian-Italian wanderer and asked about my travel. I drearily told him I just fled home and wasn't really sure about what to do next. He said something in the lines of "Well, I was in your shoes time ago" and gave me 20 euros out of the blue. And a coffee. I didn't know what to say, it took me completely by surprise. I should have started crying, but I didn't. I still thanked him profusely. It changed my views on so many things, just like that. With my current budget I still couldn't go to Madrid, but now I could at least reach Seville. I rationalized the change of plans arguing that the party I was supporting was in power there (only there), and I have family living there, so worst case I had a safe haven, which was much more appealing than the certainty of sleeping in the street. I arrived exhausted and took a taxi to the Party's Headquarters, still hoping for anything abnormal to happen... and it was obviously closed. The city was still waking up. So I looked for a place to have breakfast. I took a turn to the left and there was the Dramatic Arts School. I did the obvious thing. Pass by and ignore it. What did you expect? I had only basic education. I was only allowed to study Baccalaureate or a basic trade. I don't go to shops if I don't have money to buy. I had breakfast and returned to the former street. Pass by a second time. Realized I forgot my bag in the bar. Pass by a third. Retrieve my bag. Pass by a fourth. Still closed. Pass by a fifth. That's when I decided to enter, for the sake of killing time. It was a restored old building, looking as if taken out from a documentary or a movie with a stereotypical spanish setting. Outright beautiful. You could smell and almost touch art being brewed there. There was an old janitor looking really bored. He greeted me and inquired if I was there to ask about the Access Test. I didn't know a thing about it, apparently was done each year in June, or September if you applied for the Royal Dramatic Arts School in Madrid. I explained my circumstances but he was unfazed. There was another test, a "Maturity Test", and he described it as if I should have known from the beginning. (What's with that name? Since when an exam about Grammar, Maths and English can measure something like "maturity"?). It was aimed for people with at least 19 yo, without Baccalaureate (either NEETs like me or people with job trainings, since the law didn't stated "Baccalaureate or equivalent". And was going to take place in two months. For them it was a legal nuisance, but what about me? Please summarize my situation. I was completely hopeless, so hopeless to flee my own home, something completely unheard of in my country except for the most extreme dysfunctional families. This whole thing was doomed to tears, either ending up in the street stubbornly refusing to assume my failure or returning home completely crushed for the rest of my miserable life, and everything was my fault. Suddenly one astoundingly improbable coincidence after another led me to be faced with an all-or-nothing situation just some weeks later, and the possibility of having access to superior studies in something I loved that same year. You don't watch this shit in movies. What were the chances? Heaven's Doors suddenly opened and I saw Jesus Christ smiling at me sitting atop his godly Harley-Davidson. The whole situation, the escape and now this, it was surreal. Some of you will say "God's will". Who knows. I can only find it surreal, how my life moves forward only when I act out of despair or simply like a fucking idiot or a madman. Now you can call me a rip-off artist. You may call Paulo Coelho and warn him about some fucker trying to impersonate him. My conscience is clean as new polished marble. This happened. It happened to me. The next months elapsed in fast forward. I didn't have the material time to think, and that was just what I needed. Maths were my arch-enemy and one of the main reasons I won't risk both time and dignity trying yet again the damned Baccalaureate. Thankfully I had been taking some classes in the last weeks, since one of my void projects was applying to the Armed Forces. My former theatre school was offering specific courses for the Access Exam. I paid a small fortune for them, taking for granted I would pass the Maturity Test. A daring gambit, but the only choice. Speaking about dramatic tension...! Of course I loved the whole situation, even if my whole life was at stake. It was weird. I felt complete. I cherished the possibility of failing as much as the opposite. It wouldn't have been the same without that possibility. Thinking about trying again next year was unacceptable and the recipe for assured failure. It had to be all or nothing. Exactly the kind of choice I like the most, which explains why you won't see me near a casino. Breaking down the results of the three subjects, I passed the Maturity test with a plain 5/10. If I required a minimum for each individual test I'd have been utterly screwed. When I saw the results I wasn't happy. I wasn't relieved. I just felt it had to happen that way, as if I knew it from the start but at the same time unable to feel proud at my clairvoyance. As if I were a mere spectator. This feeling would appear constantly from this moment onwards. The Access Exam was an essay about one out of three possible works announced beforehand and something I could describe as an audition. The day of the exam the work was finally declared to be "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof". It was the one I had studied the less, maybe because foreign bias. But the film was on TV the weekend pior and I got the chills the day before, like a premonition, so I studied it like crazy and was fresh in my mind during the exam. Other's weren't so lucky. Still another 5. The practice went much better. Physical theatre and Romeo's monologue were awful, but I saved it with poetry reading, sight reading, Trigorin's monologue (The Seagull / Chekhov) and a bit of singing. That feeling of derealization from before helped me a lot. People were crying, freaking out, puking or bragging, but I was just happy to be there, with an idiotic smile similar to Charlie's in the Chocolate Factory. I got one of the best scores on that, Chekhov's monologue suited me like a glove. So 48 lucky people, and I was one of them. In summer I met a girl who helped me meet another two in need of a flatmate. She was going to study in my same school. Another improbable coincidence. September arrived and I was a proud and happy Performing Arts student. Finally, a purpose! Finally, an answer to the question "What do you do?"! My social life skyrocketed. My stutters disappeared. My classmates and teachers were too perfect, as if stereotyped. As if it wasn't real at all. It couldn't be so perfect. I couldn't ask for more. Except it was too much for me. I got scared. During that summer I did nothing but play videogames all day, like the former years. My studies required full time dedication and military commitment, 24/7. I wasn't ready for that after years of being a NEET. I wasn't ready to take care of myself. God, my grandma still takes breakfast to my bedroom! I'm fucking disgusting! Useless! Spineless! I completely deserve what happened. And what happened was the obvious. I played videogames all afternoon, holed up in my room. I masturbated compulsively to relieve stress. I went to bed late without showering and having dinner. I woke up feeling like shit. I started going to class late. Then repeat. Then some day I didn't go. Then another. Then another. Then another. By February again, everything was lost. For the second time I also used fucking a girl as an excuse to avoid classes. There won't be a third. There will be not. There were several times that my mother had to come and save me, taking me home and forcing me to eat when I was at the brink of starvation and couldn't move by myself. I ended up in the hospital at a point because I had real suicide thoughts for the first time and not just a pessimistic feeling. The night I spent alone in the psychiatric ward was completely nightmare fuel. Until I lost all hope and finally gave up. And here I am now. Back on square one. But even more regretful. So that's it. That's me. A pampered little fucktard. I can't eat by myself. I can't cook. Everything is done for me. My home is absorbing me. Everything is done for me. My comfort zone is infinite. My skills are none. I only know how to make me and others feel like shit. To complain, to regret, all the fucking time. Ah, and masturbate. Do you get my point? Think about all those africans, all those syrians, all those unfortunate people. Children with chronic diseases. People who were born doomed right from the start. Do you think I'm overdoing it? I'm still right. Think about your own lives. I'm sure most of you didn't have such a chance. It was pinpointed exclusively to me, "Life purpose for dummies". And I threw it to the trash, as if I'll have plenty of those. What the hell I'm supposed to do now, huh? I don't even want to live, even if I don't have the guts to kill myself either. Asking any of you to perform a mercy killing won't work, I'm too narcissistic to let myself getting killed. It's me or nature and I won't. So please, God. Kill me, but don't simply erase me, kill me and put someone deserving in my place. I'm a fucking waste of first-world.