My Akoha Backlog #2 – George Carlin was a (Cynical) Genius

Back in Christmas 2005 I received a George Carlin 2006 Calender, because I apparently loved his work along with the rest of my family. Never mind I was too young to really grasp what he gave the world or even bothered to find out (even to this day), George was still appreciated by me, so the calender was a thankful gift…in the form of getting it, that is. See, I never used it once through the whole of 2006. I read through the first few days of quotes, Then left the calender sitting somewhere through the whole of the year. It was otherwise a wasted purchase upon me.

And bless my young stupid heart, I understood that failing, and made a decision to make the investment in me worthwhile by finding some means to use the calender in a creative project. On what that would be I had no idea, but it was going to make proud those who gave it to me and especially George Carlin. The aspirations of the young are ever ridiculous, especially with the lack of self understanding. While I always understood myself to be stubborn, it took awhile for me to understand I was a lazy ass, and the calender was still valued as important in the process of the four times I’ve moved. I recently got sick of it just sitting in my drawers and finally made my move.

Cryptic ACen 2014 Meanings

We once more bring you another annual blog post to explain the summarized tweet I always put out after coming back from Anime Central. It’s been another great convention of cosplay, fandom, anime, geekdom, madness, emotion, exhaustion, walking, laughing, and…*sigh*…I may as well just admit it. This was the worst ACen I’ve ever had. Not on the part of ACen or those I spent it with, because they have always been awesome to me. The reason for it sucking should actually be very apparent for those who understand what I’ve been going through, and should come as no surprise.

Depression – Of the many rules one must follow when going to any sort of convention, not going alone is paramount. Having strong connections with people to properly decompress with and bounce things off of just makes a con that much better, if not the very reason you go to begin with. As many know I’ve kept myself alone for the longest time, and this has resulted in me not speaking anyone right up to the point ACen started. The vast majority of my free time at ACen was spent sitting by myself and watching others appreciate each other’s company, and I did everything I could to keep myself from crying because I wanted and needed their company as well, but had no idea how I should go about it or even bother trusting in others for that matter.

Everybody Draw Mohammed Day 2014

Happy Everybody Draw Mohammed Day! This is the fifth year of its inception, and Islamic tradition is still calling for the death of those who depict the Muslim prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). Well ain’t that a bunch of bull? Do your part this day by creating a peace of art depicting the grand prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), because nothing pisses off a god more than a caricature of his final prophet (again, peace be upon him). Gods be fickle, yo!

Laying Across Railroad Tracks

My escape into myself ever continues. I could be wrong, as depression tends to muddle the mind, but the only real contact I’ve had with another since my last breakdown was two visits with a friend who asked for help cleaning up their apartment. Real contact, as in not just checking in or talking because we had to. Anyway, in both circumstances of my visit I was talkative and feeling good about myself in the knowledge that I was doing right by someone. In both circumstances I immediately crashed the next day, feeling worthless about all things and why I even bother trying to make right at all. Which is the case now.

As ever, my self-worth is dependent on my worth to other people. If we’re to believe the self-help gurus, it’s not supposed to be that way. While I was miserable through a lot of my last job, it brought me happiness while I had it. It gave me structure, income, and a sense of want which I needed when I had none of that. Then it disappeared, and the emptiness within me has otherwise kept me from really working towards finding something new that I desperately need. I’m failing, and I’m finding it harder to care with each day that passes.

This Manic Sack of Flesh

Yesterday was another curious day of mania, but there was no positivity to be found. I managed to have some work that day, enough for an entire shift, and I took to it with an abandon. The signs of prior mania were there: incredible drive, large amounts of energy, restlessness, shaking, heavy breathing, crazed thoughts…but again, no joy in what I was doing as most bouts of mania give me. Instead there was the ever present self-loathing I feel almost at all times. The result was a crazed man who angrily fought through his work, berating himself mentally and verbally, to the point of concern if neighboring work places were going to start inquiring what the hell was happening.

I suppose I should have been glad because I was putting in more work than I normally do, but happiness is not something that comes logically, and to hell with anyone who says your mood is a choice, especially with depression in the equation. What I was feeling was wretched. Autopilot was in full effect, with my internal boss constantly looking over my shoulder and judging everything about me. Not only was my brain filled with fuck to the point of randomly crying out, but I couldn’t listen to any of the podcasts I had prepared. I understood there was talking, which I very much wanted to pay attention to because of the entertainment, news, and balance it gave me, but in the state I was in…it was just sound. The only thing I could handle was the music I happened to bring, and given that’s an emotional stimulus on top of an already extreme emotional state…well, it was something.