The Problem With Academic Writing

Well, here we are again, senior project time and I’ve got about a page thus far…thankfully I have about 24 hours to finish it (12 waking hours) and I’ve already written the outline so the actual project should be a cinch.

If only I could get into “writing mode”.

Over the past few days my imagination has been overflowing with wonderful ideas for my novel or for other novels. But this project has been looming over my shoulder for a few weeks now, and it keeps reminding me that there is, in fact, a world beyond the future utopian society I’ve created within my mind. (Well, maybe it’s not a utopia, but it’s definitely not a dystopia; for the most part, everyone’s happy.)

Essays in general used to be a no-brainer to me but as I began writing things beyond academic subjects it became increasingly more difficult to write within the set parameters of a school project. I’m supposed to argue a good point with logic and evidence and personal experience, but I’m supposed to do it like a robot; school writing is always impersonal and detached and, while I can understand why that’s mandatory, it really goes against writing a persuasive essay.

“Use your voice when you write. Just don’t put yourself in your writing.”

“IT’S A PARADOX. THERE IS NO ANSWER.”

It just doesn’t make sense. And I have to pass this class or I’m not graduating, and I have to graduate or I’m never moving on from this hellhole. But the writer in me screams when she hears the wordspersuasive essay.I’m much better with expository essays because I’m all about visualization. Details are simple and fall into place like kindergarten blocks.

And now…my brain refuses to sit still for a moment. I resumed the paragraphs I’d started a few weeks back, and immediately my brain says “Maybe Felix should occasionally see his reflection in the walls of his cage”.

That’s me, by the way. At this moment. That is my face at this point in time.

The Human Stink

I was fine all week. Honestly. Actually, I was great all week. Played 16+ hours of Mass Effect 2. Played some Prince of Persia and rekindled an old character love. Butsomethinghas happened. I have no idea what it is, either, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to change it.

I’ve been overwhelmed with this disgust for humans. People. Friends, strangers, family; everybody disgusts me. Call me vain or narcissistic but even I disgust me. To quote Agent Smith, humans are parasites and every day I’m drowning in the stench.

Hearing people speak makes me want to shout and rip things apart and throw them across the room. Hearing people interrupt other people while they’re talking, and then hearing that other person talk louder in an attempt to reject the interruption, and hearing the other person continue interrupting, makes me want to vomit all kinds of profanity.

Hearing people talk about their friends’ babies, drugs, alcohol, parties and first-world problems all makes me want to whip out my machine pistol and place a cryo-bullet right between their eyes. The fact that my dogs don’t listen worth crap and that they neighbor’s dogs can bark and roam the neighborhood without complaint makes me want to scream and kick something.

Most importantly, the fact that I can find no better outlet than to piss and moan and rant on WordPress sickens me. What kind of writer am I? What kind of shallow, short-temperedpersonam I? This is a temper tantrum, isn’t it? I don’t know. I’ve never had one before. And I sure as hell hope this goes away soon, because if it doesn’t, I’ll snap.

Perhaps things were too good, and now that one little thing in my life hasn’t gone the way I want it to, I’m spiraling.

I’m this close —>| |<— to flinging everything out the window.

 

Mass Effect

It’s official.

What started as an innocent conversation in Mr. Scrivner’s room during conference period ended in me going and buying ME2 (ME1 is an XBox exclusive and, well, I don’t own an XBox; I also bought back my old Prince of Persia as well as the Nightwing Bundle for Batman) has turned into the latest impulsive gaming episode in my life. Ever.

I can’t get my PS3 to connect to download Nightwing, though, and that makes me really mad. Because Nightwing is sexy.

Anyways, it took me a bit to really get into Mass Effect (and it’s difficult to make a good-looking Shepard) but now that I’ve been playing nonstop for 7+ hours today, I’m hooked. Traveling across the galaxy, recruiting alien team members, mining and doing science research and exploring distant worlds; it’s intoxicating, in a word, and that isn’t even adequate to describe it.

The choices between Ren and Pro are like good and evil karma in inFAMOUS. What you say and do determines the outcome of the game, as well as the loyalty of your squad. I’ve already made two decisions I regret but that’s only because it’s hard to think fast and pay attention to the character interaction at the same time.

Did I mention the storyline? It’s pretty good, as far as sci-fi scripts go, and with a few familiar video-game voices, it’s absolutely magical.

Oh, sorry, I have to go talk to Garrus about ship mods…

O Dearest Vincenzo

Tuesday, on my way home from school, my iPod nearly died. Me being the space-case I am I forgot to charge it that morning so it was running on fumes; I managed to turn off the backlight quick enough so the battery would last the ride home. But then it started doing weird stuff like skipping and freezing and shutting off mid-song. So the first thing I do when I get home is stick it on my iHome and let it juice up for quite a while. Then it keeps freezing and skipping and shut it off so I figure, maybe that last time I dropped it (although I only dropped it on the carpet) knocked something out of whack. I restore my iPod, dear Vincenzo il Secundo, and redub him Vincenzo il Terza (third incarnation of my beloved iPod Classic).

Then the real trouble starts.

My iPod is restored, so I’m like, “Okay, just gotta sync all 10GB of music back on here, this’ll take a while.”

So I leave it to do its business. When I come back I find that iTunes only synced a fourth of the songs. What gives?

Try again. It starts up, normal speed, and then my iPod starts making this terrible grinding noise. iTunes thinks it’s still syncing but Vincenzo is just laying there without a care in the world.

Anyways, long story short, my battery went bad and can’t hold enough juice to sync the damn thing. Thankfully my warranty is expired so opening it up and replacing it won’t cause grief in the long run… but in the meantime, just trying to get a handful of songs to stay on the iPod is trial-and-error; if the syncing cuts out iTunes deletes all the songs that have synced on the iPod because they become corrupt/unplayable. I had a good 200 of the essentials before this happened again. Now I’m back to 72. Great.

Hopefully my battery will arrive soon; and maybe sometime I’ll be getting a replacement iPod Classic. Vincenzo has served me well but even my dad says maybe it’s time to retire him and get an iPod with a protective case. :’D

Do yourself a favor and buy a Zune.

TUMMMMBLR

I’ve been signing petitions online recently, and it really makes me feel like a better person because a lot of these people are petitioning for their lives or for rights we Americans take for granted (unless you’re from Texas). Since all it takes is 3 seconds to sign one of these petitions (it’s just clicking, no actual signatures required for those of you who can’t write) you should consider doing it too. What could it hurt? Sign up and start petitioning at change.org if you’re interested.

That sounded like a paid advertisement by an actor but I assure you it’s purely me speaking from the black hole that was once my heart (before it went supernova).

Also, spent a lot of time on tumblr yesterday, primarily looking at pictures of Nero Bellum. There’s a story coming, so get your popcorn and get comfy.

A couple years ago I was clicking around on the internet when I stumbled upon a picture of a blonde man with drug tracks and a syringe in his mouth. The more I stared at him the more I felt some kind of pull toward him; it was at this time that I created my most developed character, Deveraux (although back then he was Delano). He was also heavily inspired by Samus Aran and was altogether very different than the current incarnation; however I think he’s done evolving now.

THE RESEMBLANCE IS UNCANNY

So anyways, yesterday I was doing something (I can’t even remember) when I stumbled upon Nero Bellum again. It had to do with his supposed “ripping off” of many fans who ordered merchandise from his Myspace; I read the article that he had apparently kicked his drug addiction and Psyclon Nine (his band) is getting back together to do some new music. So, all in all, I was looking around at pictures of the man ultimately responsible for the creation of what will most likely be my ticket to early retirement. :D

I’m really happy he’s off the drugs, too; he looks so healthy and vibrant now.

But because of repeatedly gawking looking at pictures of “Deveraux” a new inspiration was sparked within me; I instantly got the urge to draw and new story ideas began springing up in my head, left and right. So I owe Nero two thanks; one for getting me started in the first place and one for kickstarting me the second time. C:

c:

And, since it was tumblr, I got a fresh and plentiful batch of .gifs. I don’t know why I bother saving most images, since I never use them and only look at them when looking for something else. O well. I have 80GBs of free space on this baby. Hardly making a dent.

In other news, got an ear infection, iPod battery took a crap, and got a free Dead Space t-shirt today because the cashier girl didn’t look in the fold of the dress pants my dad was buying; it was tucked in there since they were both draped over my arm and I just laid them on the table. xD Also, gave myself a makeover yesterday. :D

Anyways, here’s to writing, to kicking drugs (you should quit smoking if you do), to free merchandise and to getting better. Happy weekend, and smile because there are always good things in the world.

 

 

Strangling the Inspiration Gland

I’m quite sure that, just below the medulla of the brain and just before the spinal chord, there’s the Inspiration Gland.

I’m sure you’ve rubbed it, at the back of the neck, after many a strenuous hour hunched over a notebook or keyboard, forcing down all the metaphorical mental laxatives and hoping some kind of creative diarrhea will follow. (I apologize for my colourful language but I’ve decided not to be afraid of it anymore, as of this sentence.) Of course, as with any constipation, mental or otherwise, the harder you push the less productive you are. My Han Solo PEZ dispenser is giving me a dirty look. The Inspiration Gland gets sore after a while and like many other parts of the body may refuse to work if overworked.

So then, the question becomes, “How do you stimulate the Inspiration Gland efficiently?”

When I was younger, ideas came to me like lightning in the middle of the clearest day in the clearest part of the world. I’m not sure where that is but it exists somewhere. I’d be sitting in the middle of fifth grade and

BANG VOOM ZAP POW

I’d get the best idea in the history of the world ever

and I’d be so excited about it

and I’d do nothing but write or doodle or gush over it

and it would be the center of my world

and all was good.

I really, really love using different headings now that I’ve discovered them.

You see? Inspiration?

A little over a couple weeks ago, Mr. Scrivner gave us a writing assignment in Creative Writing. My ears practically perked up. “Storytelling, you say? Why, I can do that!”

I never turned in a story. And now we have another story assignment that I’m working too hard on.

So, I guess the moral of this story is,

stay away from laxatives?

 

A Kick In The Testicles: Plus Reviews

So, I actually don’t have any, but if I did, today was a strategically placed attack in said area.

But before I get into Sucky Sunday, let’s talk about Moderately Awesome Saturday! I hung out with Mr. Francis and Mr. Bands; Mr. Jenkins was invited but (not surprisingly) didn’t show up. We watched Goldmember and played LittleBigPlanet for a while. We listened to the soundtrack from Nightmare Before Christmas and ate some homemade pizza, compliments of my dad.

Anyways, I went to this college-finanical-aid-thing, or at least what I thought would be about financial aid; instead, it was some little unknown company trying to sell me a College Coach for $2,000. If I’m attending a financial aid seminar because I’m flat broke, would I really have $2,000 dollars to spend on a coach? What’s more, the lady tried to make it seem like I had no hope unless I paid the money and got their services.

I remember my counselor saying

never pay for financial aid or scholarships because if anyone tries to charge you money for their secrets “secrets” it’s a scam.

Maybe it wasn’t so much of a run-on sentence when she said it, but that was the gist of it.

So, final summation:

if you get a letter saying “good news! We have vital scholarship information: make an appointment and come to this conference!”, don’t waste four hours of your weekend only to be quickly ushered out when you refuse to pay their fee.

Let me just say that her utter lack of confidence in me as, not only a student, but a young adult, was a kick in the testicles.

In other news, Oingo Boingo is awesome.

Review 1: Bad Moon Rising by Sherrilyn Kenyon.

I’m glad I got this for a dollar at the thrift shop. Fans of Twilight will love this book; the plot that’s summarized on the back (actually, no plot is summarized on the back, it’s all about romance) doesn’t even kick in until the last 100 or so pages. Out of 468 pages. That’s a total of 360 or so pages of pure smut and weirdness, involving vampires but mostly werewolves and wolves were. Yeah.
I’m not going to tell you not to read it; in fact, if you have some extra time and don’t want to have to think about what you’re reading, go ahead and read it. Or maybe you’re into that kind of thing and want to read it anyways.

Review 2: Batman: Arkham City

This is, by far, one of the best games I’ve ever played. Ever. And since I got my PS3 to connect to the internet last night, I was able to download my playable Catwoman that came with the game. Granted you don’t get to play as her for very long, it’s quite fun to leap and pounce about and whip guys’ butts. Batman is kinda slow and clunky but has all those awesome gadgets and it’s really a fun game, gliding about Arkham City and beatin’ up baddies; and of course, my favourite villain, Riddler, makes a few appearances; I swear, if I had to be a henchman for any Batman villain, it would be the Riddler. Joker has Harley, Freeze has Nora, Two-Face has Sugar and Spice. ;D

I’m trying to write a story about the perfect human who really isn’t perfect and eventually dies from lack of emotional stimulation, since they deny him any emotions at all. It’s kind of difficult and I’ve started over three or four times but I think I’ll get it done enough for creative writing–I mean, it was due a week ago…

I’ve also been watching GradualReport again. I’d nearly forgotten how much I love Danny. :D You can watch his videos here. I encourage you to watch them, actually. You may learn something, and you’ll laugh in the meantime. I promise.

Anyways, off to writing before I write another run-on sentence with terrible grammar and some kind of verb subject confusion or something to that nature.

Did you just put that Aperture-Science-we-don’t-know-what-it-does into the Aperture Science Emergency Intelligence Incinerator?

A side note: I’ve officially reached 5 followers. Huge success!