I’m back with “Late Night Journal” folks. I know, I always say that, and then: poof! I disappear in a purple mist. But, I want to make this type of post more regularly.
It’s interesting though, I feel like this is the “Meta Journal” because I’m taking this entry to speak about the journal itself. I’m super happy because well, I’ve published quite a bit in this blog already, and I know it needs a redesign, it needs love and patience, and maybe some money cause I’m a lousy web designer (well, not a web designer at all actually) so… I know, I know…
But on the other side, I’m so thankful for all of you who read me despite my awful blog design and even the annoying, scammy-looking ads that WordPress.com decided to put on it (cheap suckers!). I will fix these things, I’ve just been quite broke after I lost my second job as I told you in the past, but guess what? Guess, guess! Yes, after some terrible interviews, weeks of anxiety, and harassing my recruiter, I landed a new job and my main purpose after taking the needed portion to adjust my family’s finances (the recession is hitting like a freaking bitch), is to start a big savings plan to raise some capital for both my online training business (technology related) and of course, for my artistic projects. I’m so thrilled!
Folks, feel free to feel happy for me, this is the result of so much suffering, believe me, if you like underdog stories, I’m your guy!
“A very eager artist” – A. I Interpretation using my own picture as a baseline
So what’s up with the journal?
Yeah, right! Thanks for reminding me, fellows!
Because I’m already dedicating most of my after-work time to my projects, it’s become a lot lately, so much so that I’ve had to rethink my time management strategies and reprioritize. And so, you don’t see me posting “Late Night Journals” that often since I’m also posting short stories and writing exercises mainly.
But something interesting has been going on for a few months, every now and then, when I have a new follower or a new like in my blog posts, guess where it usually comes from?
From my “Late Night Journals”! Of course!
So I’ve been wondering why this is so. I mean, I like them and I like writing them, but I honestly thought folks would feel more attracted to other pieces like articles on culture or poems, etc.
So I asked my wife since she’s super smart and a good observer and she told me: “people like to know about other people’s lives”. Ha! Interesting, it’s simple but it’s powerful, indeed the “Late Night Journal” is the most personal type of post I make.
In any case, I want to listen to my audience and I will start writing again the type of content you’ve shown a preference for. Because you know what? Your support makes me bolder, it encourages me to fight harder, be more disciplined and achieve the many things I’ve told you about in this blog, my dreams of art and freedom, my stories, and my thoughts on how to contribute to the lives of others! I want to inspire you, not by being perfect but by being brave.
Have a wonderful night friends!
I just like it a lot, it shows how I feel when I start working on my art projects.
I think this is probably too deep for this hour of the night and a day packed with real-life cybersecurity action at work (woo hoo!).
In any case, I have some ideas I don’t want to leave unexpressed tonight, also I’m listening to a “Jazz Noir” playlist, which helps me make it through the night with the guts and toughness of a broken detective, way too tormented to sleep and obsessed about catching that monsters of the streets, that’s proven so elusive: “but, tonight is the night…” as our good-old Dexter Morgan would say.
So what’s up with the void?
Oh, come on folks! Shouldn’t you know it by now, that I have a natural affinity with drama?
No, but seriously, I’ll talk about real shit here just be patient and bear with my introductions; I’ll tell you two things:
This has to do with my journey as a writer and artist (of course, if you read me, you probably figured that out)
This is another of this self-discovery-type-of-article in which I feel like having these epiphanies about my own journey, may (even if accidentally) help some of you on your own, or at least get you to think more about it. If that’s the case, I will feel satisfied.
I don’t usually quote people that much in my blog, but I believe the following is worth quoting and helps me as a good starting point for my topic tonight:
“Every bit of learning is a little death. Every bit of new information challenges a previous conception, forcing it to dissolve into chaos before it can be reborn as something better. Sometimes such deaths virtually destroy us.”
You know, I heard this a while ago now, but it’s until very recently that it started to make a lot of sense to me. The reason? Because I’m experiencing it continuously.
So the thing is, this guy from the start challenges you with: “writers have to write, every day”. Well, it’s not the first time I hear it of course, but hey since I’m used to “doing things my way”, I ignored all the exercises and the prompts and started binging the thing: I didn’t get too far, it became burdensome and then I thought to myself “well, you’re already working in your books and if this instructor is right, you should probably just keep writing those”. Well, guess what? I’m stuck now, cause, in reality, I do need all the help and instruction I can get and if I don’t start using what’s available, these projects of mine will never see the light.
Now, folks, it’s taken me years to grow up and stop self-beating for about everything, but I have to be honest because I’ve assessed this with sincerity: that fucking attitude of mine is plain arrogance, disguised as something else. The truth is, it comes from feeling I’m above “writing prompts” and above hundreds or thousands of aspiring authors and somehow my stuff is more special and I don’t need to do what everyone’s doing in forums, and in communities and…
You get the point.
Now, before you just hate me, two things:
Being honest is not easy, I know for a fact most people won’t be. So take the above as a confession, as an attempt to defeat this stupid arrogance that has no real foundation, for I’m the newbie of newbies and I know it.
I think this has a root in other seemingly “unrelated” things that reside in my subconscious and have been sabotaging me for years; perhaps joining me in my analysis may be an interesting exercise for you too.
So taking all of this into account, I started pondering, very seriously: “why am I acting like this, if it’s evidently counter-productive?” And also “have I been doing this in other aspects of my life?” “In other projects, maybe?”
Short answer: “Yes”. Also, I happen to know at least a part of what’s lurking in the subconscious mind that’s affecting me like this, and it’s not something I like to talk about but here we go.
Show these motherfuckers!
“Tough Boy” Original A.I Art
So this guy right here is a big part of my personality.
“Seriously? A tough guy?”
Yes, maybe you find me quite melancholic, I am that as well xD. But yeah, this ‘tough boy persona’, who’s a part of me, has been playing some tricks and I have exposed him.
In honor of our story together and the huge help this “tough-boy Josue” has been, let me tell you a little about him and why he’s such a strong part of this troubled mind of mine. Do you know, or could you imagine where tough people come from?
Answer:Tough people comes from tough places.
And yes, there’s just so much to my personal story, at least in the part of my life where I couldn’t really manage or decide, that it could become a series of articles. But the thing is, as soon as I became an independent adult, even with the serious health, financial and emotional problems I dragged from earlier stages of my life, I decided no one was gonna fuck with me ever again. Not only that, but I also decided that the world was majorly a hostile place for me, and I would get from it what I wanted even if I had to force it to hand it over to me.
Sounds familiar?
I know this is a cliche, the cliche of the damaged person who decides never to be a victim again and in becoming epic, also becomes unreachable, unreachable, and oftentimes, unwanted.
To me, this wasn’t a “stage” of early adulthood, it was probably how I was during my 20’s and the beginning of my 30s (I’m 36). I got used to this because it wasn’t only an emotion, it became my lifestyle: courageous, charging forward, an excess for effort, muscle, hard work, relentless… But also, often times reckless, overly self-centered, and hostile. And I did get the benefits of becoming ‘the tough guy’; I’ve been able to do many things that destructive people around me considered “impossible” and I’ve felt amazingly great seeing them from afar, confused and stale where they’ve always been and will probably always stay. All of this while I continue to move, while I charge ahead.
Now, the fact that I’m now able to see myself with more critical eyes, and understand sort of the “archetype” represented by this part of my personality, doesn’t mean I condemn myself for being this way: I accept and love that tough boy, he’s helped me a great deal and others around me as well because hidden in his hostility, he’s got a heart that wants to help others, especially the damaged ones. Without his violence and his strength, I wouldn’t be me, and I accept myself and really like it, nowadays.
But that doesn’t mean I’m blind to his shortcomings, and some of the consequences of using this guy so much are becoming obstacles for me.
There’s A World Beyond The Fight
“A world to be explored” Original A.I Art
What happens to a soldier, after the war is won?
My life story required a soldier and a very epic one. But see the thing is, I got attached to that character, to that version of myself that brought me so many victories, so much satisfaction, who protected and provided, who endured the worst times. But this soldier is now facing a time he was not built for, a time of peace, a time of quietness, a time of beauty, a time of exploring new things and by the way, a time he bought with blood and tears.
The tough boy has been in a crisis of meaning for a few years now.
And what’s growing in me, is a different animal. It’s still part soldier because I will never let go of that, but I need to integrate it with a philosopher, an artist, a thinker, and a businessman because these other “auxiliary” parts of me are no longer the “auxiliary” ones but the ones taking precedence.
So among many other things, I will not brute-force my way into writing a good book, recording a decent music demo, or developing a voice worth listening to. All of these new things, require me to connect with others, learn from others, and accept the possibility that others hold many of the keys I’ve been desperately trying to find.
It’s time for bravery to give way to humbleness, and violence, to wisdom.
And in that sense, the words of Dr. Peterson echo strongly in my current midnight (not a metaphor, it’s literally 12:36 A.M.), listening to jazz noir and feeling very tired, and also very satisfied that I’m tired for the right reasons.
And let me finish with this: I will go through that whole Udemy writing course, and I will start again being engaged in writer forums and communities and actually read what others are doing, helping them review and also asking for their reviews and their feedback, even if it’s hard to hear. This is now a public commitment with you, my wonderful readers; actually, I published my first exercise from that course, it’s called Blue Door in case you’d like to read it.
Friends, I’m learning, every day, dying a “small death” every day, and watching something new come to life every day. We’re humans, we’re wonderful creatures capable of reinventing ourselves, capable of deciding to become someone better than yesterday and if I die tomorrow I’ll go with a smile.
I’m listening to Elliot Smith’s “Miss Misery”. What a songwriter! Lately, I listen to this guy like every day, not lying to you, and that’s just something I do until I’m through with it and need something new that makes me feel things, then a new music crisis begins and after a finite number of these cycles, I die (of old age I hope).
But that has nothing to do with the title, although I have to say, lying down in my bed, listening to this playlist, and writing in my blog is quite cathartic and probably the beginning of a moment’s rest in an otherwise hectic day.
So yesterday I lost almost a full day’s work because of a major system update applied to my laptop that changed the way I work quite drastically, changes are hard to assimilate especially when you’ve built a lot around the way things were. And today, I had a third and final interview for a job I really, really want, and I felt so nervous! So today I had to work like a motherfucker, focused, fast, and relentlessly in a new, weird environment to make up for the time lost and be able to squeeze 1+ hours in the afternoon for my interview. The interview was a KILLER one, I felt like a mouse trapped by a very playful and evil cat who won’t just let it die; and to my surprise, it seems they will make an offer (I can’t wait for the news!).
After all of this, I’m just beat.
But there are projects I’ve been postponing for years, my art odyssey, sailing the seas of creativity, learning the technique and the craft from scratch while working on bringing to life concepts that have been locked deep inside the wardrobe of my secret wishes. So I face a bit of difficulty here: “Do I go find a way to please myself after a hard day? Or do I invest some time in the disciplines I require to master if I’m ever to make it as an artist?”
It’s not an easy choice, also it is neither completely right nor completely wrong. I could not image nor endure an existence that is made up of 100% discipline, virtue, and rigor. I aim to enjoy my existence and if everything is serious, scripted, and unflexible that will simply not happen. But then again, what’s the right time for each? Me being a 36-year-old, my life doesn’t get any easier, my responsibilities increase as my kid grows up, my career advances, and I introduce personal projects into the huge amount of matters that require attention, time, and money.
So I realize that although it’s perfectly acceptable to take time to rest after a hard day, it is not the best choice when compared to my aspirations and their size. So I chose to stick to my decision of keeping a daily discipline: writing and studying classical guitar. It wasn’t epic folks, it wasn’t full of heroism nor did a muse come to me and showed me how valuable my effort was: it sucked. My musical practice came very slow and didn’t sound so well, my writing wasn’t fluent at all and a truck cut the power cabling in my residential area so when I was finally gaining some writing momentum it all went dark.
So discipline is such, precisely because it happens in spite of feelings and events, but only if you’re willing to make it happen. Hence the title of the blog post.
Owning your suffering
“Choose your pain”
Who wants to hear about suffering, right? I mean, isn’t it the very thing we avoid like the plague, and isn’t this avoidance the reason why we do a lot of what we do consciously or not?
But suffering is a reality, and realities are there to be seen, acknowledged, and dealt with. The opposite is one of many forms of denial, but the denial to see what exists and is evident is probably one of the worst abilities we have as humans; denial has buried entire lives decades before their bodies hit the grave.
So, if we face the reality and the constant possibility of suffering, the question is: how do we manage it? Well, we use it, and we seek to accommodate it so that in the means possible it happens in our terms and within our parameters; and when we accomplish this, that suffering has a much deeper meaning to us and produces less discomfort as well.
Let me give you a very mundane example:
“Rent is due, you’re behind and you know your landlord may want to evict you soon. Now, you know you’re tired, work is not going as good as you wish and you’re a bit down about the whole situation, you choose to ignore the risk and wish for the best; you read in some bullshit book that prosperity is manifested through positive thinking and thus, your efforts to resolve the situation are mental and sadly soon enough they prove to be useless as you actually get kicked out. Now there’s quite some suffering coming your way.
The alternate version of this is, you actually have a bike you use to go to work and run your errands; you realize that things are going south and on top of that, your landlord seems not to be tolerant of your rent payments any longer. You choose to download a delivery app and enroll in the system; Uber or any of those apps, you know you’re going to make some money there and it may take you a couple of months to resolve the whole situation and it’s going to also mean finishing your shift to work even more, taking shit you don’t care about to people you don’t know. You go a speak to the landlord, negotiate some installments for the amount due and commit to full payment of the current month as soon as you’re paid. You’re buying yourself two months of tiredness and suffering.”
So what’s the big difference between these two scenarios?
In the second scenario, you acknowledge the monster below the carpet, look it in the eye and in all its awfulness, and decide to deal with it. If you’re able to control it, you will indeed suffer and probably regret some actions that put you in that position. But you also have a clear timeframe in sight, you won’t be having a great time but you won’t be humiliated and homeless by the end of the month.
In the first scenario, however, you’re thrown by someone else into uncertainty, things are already out of your hands and there’s potentially no end in sight for the storm that’s upon you.
That’s what I mean when I say “own your suffering”. And it’s a bit of a drastic scenario, but it illustrates the point.
For many years, I suffered the fact that my artistic light was shut down, denied by mundane life and obligations. No time to create, no freedom either, no funds to get an education, enslaved to my technical career because it’s what gets me money, growing older and older and I can go on with the list…
You know, I was so wrong in the way I viewed things, but it took me a long time to realize. I mean, there were some awful realities to face: yes, I didn’t have the support I needed to start early in the arts, I missed some opportunities as a young adult and I took responsibilities out of my own choice that ended up limiting my freedom to move. So yeah, I fucked it up, but in no way did it have to stay that way.
As it turns out, the technical career I dedicated so much time and effort to, so that it would get me some money… guess what? It got me money! Not only that, but seniority gave me more flexible schedules and hence a way to organize my time more freely, and what about all the years lost? Not lost at all, it’s no secret that artists benefit much from suffering if they’re able to translate that into an art form worth appreciating, my life experience in other realms is a great source of knowledge for my books and songwriting and even the long wait, pushes me to be more decisive in my current efforts.
What will it all turn into in the end? Will I be a success? Will I go unnoticed?
Yeah, those thoughts are part of my daily anxiety, but I’ll tell you something after years of frustration and getting depressed because of this topic: I’d rather choose that risk of putting heart and soul into something that’s not as well received as I expect, than lowering my arms and adopting conformity with my current situation, and slowly grow bitter and bitter, feeling dreams are never meant to be fulfilled, that life is unfair, that other people had the opportunities I didn’t and so on… Become resentful, bitter…
No, I’ve known enough people like that, their lives are my definition of doom, imprisonment, and despair and it hurts me that so many folks with a huge potential just chose to give up way too early in life. But you know what? It’s their choice, they just allowed the default direction of the system to pull them and define them, they chose not to suffer the embarrassment of learning something as older students, the uncertainty of risking their grown-up stability for a dream, they chose to watch T.V, cook barbeques or party instead of building the vehicle that would take them out of the “unfair” existence they bitch so much about.
I’d rather fail with the full knowledge that I’ve chosen that pain, instead of waiting to see what my denial is bringing upon me, a pain I can’t control nor possibly revert.
Final thoughts
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not extrapolating a principle of general applicability out of my very specific life history. I’m applying ancient principles to my efforts in attaining very difficult goals, and this is what I want to communicate, for it may be just what you need to read today.
It may be that for many of you, this is a time to enjoy your family, your friends, your lover, a T.V series, travel, and entertainment. I don’t antagonize any of these in principle, it would make me a hypocrite as I’ve traveled many places, watched Breakin Bad about 4 times now, Death Note about 3 times, sung karaoke and danced with my wife and kid for hours, and have streamed the whole Death Stranding videogame via Twitch.
But I’m now facing a new stage, one that I could have had much earlier in my life and I would possibly be under less pressure now, but it is what it is. This is my time for discipline, effort, and suffering my belated dreams. And you know what? I’ve waited for this for many years and I intend to live it fully.
I do hope some of my struggles make nutritious food for thought, and if it seems to shed some light on a situation you’re going through, don’t ignore it, take that light and seek the monster’s lair for yourself; you may find out you’re more capable of dealing with it than you thought and just as I believe will happen in my case, it will not go unrewarded.
“Worlds are shaped in the air as he writes” – Human + A.I Collab
Not that there’s only one.
When you embrace your loneliness, soon you start to realize the treasures it has to offer.
Loneliness is not a natural state for a human; the strength of the human species is highly social if it isn’t because of the capacity to work towards a common goal, communicate experiences and learn from each other’s ideas, nature would have swallowed us whole many moons ago.
I mean, think about the concept of “culture”, man it’s so deep. You see interesting, complex behaviors in other species, even social behaviors like role division and hierarchies in bee hives, prioritization, and leadership in wolf packs, and many others could be quoted. But you don’t talk about the “culture” of kangaroos, do you?
And culture is one of those huge forces that shape our perception, and for an entity that’s self-aware perception is a huge topic. How do we assign meaning to events, actions, and people? What are our parameters to embrace or reject? What choices lead to more constructive outcomes, what choices put me and my “herd” at risk? How does the community react to deviancy?
And so, our wiring is set in a way that we seek consciously or not, acceptance from our community because out of a community we’re taking big risks. That’s why I said loneliness is not a natural state for a person; I dare say that there are degrees of loneliness that can be viewed as deviations and as such, they provoke a punitive attitude from others.
And that’s when I start seeing value.
Culture is either spontaneous, or it is intentionally shaped. And I do believe it’s both, but intending to influence culture intentionally is tricky. It’s also within the reach of the silent observers, and people who choose to live separated from it. There’s a degree of herd behavior available to all of us when we dissolve into a larger whole of like-minded individuals, and it’s so natural and possibly unconscious that it may hinder us from seeing clearly, and critically what occurs within such a group.
“Herd Behaviour” A.I Interpretation
So what’s the perk?
Oh, many.
So, the freedom of choosing a position in every aspect I consider important is one of such perks. Postures typically come in bundles (wrapped in ideology and dogma), and if you’re looking to be embraced by a specific community, you have to buy the whole bundle, as is.
But this is not the one I wanted to talk about, I actually made a full detour of what I intended to write about.
The biggest perk I’m obtaining from my loneliness is the ability to create my own realities, my own characters, my own conflicts, and worlds, shape them, explore them, and resolve their very mysteries.
Yes, this post is about writing stories.
I find myself being healed from my chronic dissatisfaction with the mundane, by shaping the extraordinary; I find my boredness of dealing with dull people resolved by speaking to characters that have an actual story to tell and the guts to live their own lives; I find my apathy disrupted by the expectation of that long-awaited revenge, or that wild night of surrendering to the charms of darkness.
When you write, it’s not always about the outcome, heck, I’m not sure if my worlds are that much tailored to my mindset that they may be deemed inaccessible, or pretentious by my audience. I don’t know man, I care about people sincerely, but the temptation of just traveling those dimensions on my own terms beats my desire for selling books. Maybe that enjoyment gets passed on to my audience, I certainly hope so.
You know what’s fun? Being lonely also helps me enjoy a lot more my time with other people, with people I love, care about, or simply like. I genuinely feel like I want to make the most out of those conversations, of that valuable part of their life another human is actually deciding to share with me.
I know, I always have to write in paradoxes, but the fact that I enjoy loneliness doesn’t mean I don’t resent it sometimes. I feel like I need to find that sweet spot because I do miss being with friends and just enjoying others, even meeting new people. I just don’t want to lose access to my worlds, my ideas, and my reflections because it’s so much easier to just adopt external culture and behaviors.
Is it possible to enjoy a good balance between the two things? Can I be a not-so-lonely loner?
I’ve been dropping weight gradually, it was one of my big goals for 2022 and I’ve achieved it! So I don’t dine at night now, and I feel so good about it. But when I do, I’d rather have soup or a salad! It’s gentler food, and you go to sleep feeling balanced rather than feeling heavy and burdened.
So, this is part of why I’m entitling this post “Stoic Salad”, cause it’s a good post for your mental health, but also it’s a salad, a blend of ingredients: some classic stoicism will be the predominant flavor, but I’m adding some of my own discoveries, my treasures from introspection.
Ambition and Peace: Friends or foes?
I’ve seen a trend in Instagram and TikTok, maybe not a massive trend, but nevertheless one that I’m actually glad it’s occurring, a rediscovery of stoicism. I’ve heard very interesting podcasts and follow several accounts that regularly post quotes from Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, and other philosophical luminaries. I believe it’s worth listening to them, as the relevancy of their reflections is ever-current.
I’m not going to even try to teach you philosophy, for I’m not a master in this area, but I feel comfortable telling you how it helps me. See, the word “stoic” is often used to describe a condition of apathy or numbness, but this is not what philosophical stoicism is. Stoicism is more about acceptance and being able to understand and control emotions, and here’s where I feel it becomes too relevant to our digital life nowadays: people often seem not to be able to control emotions! Digital marketers and news agencies know this and often post misleading, incendiary titles to posts and articles because they know that those are statistically going to drive the most engagement; and there’s a tension, a frustration that’s awaiting to be released against other unknown people, which also makes our interactions via Social Media a tremendous amplifier for propaganda and ideology: indeed a rather dangerous predicament at a society level.
Stoicism reminds us of our position in the world, the position of others and the often overlooked capacity we humans have of just letting things happen without taking a big emotional toll from them. You’ve probably heard the maxim “memento mori” or “remember death”; what does it mean? Well, no matter how optimistic you are, you know you will eventually die, it comes as no surprise to most, I hope. Now, how’s our acceptance or denial of this fact, and how do we allow it to impact our perception of life? Stoicism identifies that the state of denial regarding death, leaving it as a taboo subject that’s grim to think or talk about, to be cause of many lifes going to waste. For many people, they just allow years to go by with not a lot of progress, not a lot of meaning, not a lot of accomplishment and eventually, this will start causing despair. If we make it a daily habit to “remember death” we will always have in our consciousness a frame of reference for our actions and reactions that can really change things: how relevant is this? Is it worth my time? Is it worth my effort? In the long run, how worthy is this subject, this person, this offense, this conflict, this pain I’m going through? Is it worth this much attention, this much focus? Could it be dealt with in a way that takes me closer to peace, to serenity?
“Memento Mori” A.I + Human Collab
For me, remembering death means also, “stay humble” even in my greatness; for there’s a greatness in human industry and ingenuity, there’s something extremely beautiful about the capacity we have to create, to imagine, and to manifest abstraction into reality. But, as hard as it is to hear, both you who make an effort to be extraordinary and the mediocre person that keeps criticizing you and trying to pull you down out of envy, you’re going to end up facing the same final fate: death. So how relevant is it, is it worth any attention at all, is it worth your anger, your sadness, your hatred?
I’ll tell you what it means to me: every single second in this life is too precious to be wasted in petty things; every single smile, every single tear, every single moment of rest, of work, of gentleness, of conflict, of uncertainty is to be savored! It’s life in all it has to offer and it will end. Can I look back and smile when I see how plentiful my life was? How I chose to make the most out of each day? How I chose to feel and to react to what I can’t control? This is my desire once I’m holding death’s hand and transitioning, I want to experience death when the time comes without any dread or regret of not having experienced life properly.
First of all, I’ve been absolutely neglecting this blog lately, probably because in the longer term I feel blogging a lot doesn’t align with my main goals and I have so little time and energy to dedicate to them that I’d probably want to really think how I manage my time.
But then, the things that I’m working on are so long-term, and so freaking mind-blowing that I feel even lonelier and more alienated than ever. And that’s saying a fucking lot because I’m probably one of the most isolated individuals you’ll read, I’m not kidding. So I know these things, these projects that live in my head are a real thing, a beautiful thing but then everything that surrounds me and what you’d call my reality screams: “Bullshit! You’ve got nothing!”. Fucking voices of discouragement, subconscious playing tricks on me.
So, you know, sorry for being so honest here, but the truth is I need to communicate something until I’m there, at that point where I will be communicating at a different level. So whoever you are who happens to find this little blog somehow and read it, please know that you’re important to me, you’re helping me pursue impossibilities that are worth every minute and every slight chance of becoming possibilities.
Why Ryan’s Picture?
In case you didn’t know, Ryan Karazija, the frontman of Low Roar passed away a few days back. And if you’ve read me before you probably know I’m a big fan of his music.
Ryan’s music was very personal and very deep in most cases; I connected with it immediately because I could feel his struggle, I could feel his uncertainty, and his hope, and I could feel how he knew his music was precious but unknown. Of course, that wasn’t the case the entire time but at the beginning, it was.
He died too young, but he was able to see outstanding achievements in his musical career, I hope he felt very satisfied with the outcome of his efforts and his love for music. I hate when people who’ve touched my soul leave this planet, I know such is the nature of life but it still saddens me and makes me feel lonelier for these strangers have been friends with my heart even if they will never know it. A few years back when Chris Cornell died I felt it very deeply as well.
But Ryan wrote this song “I’ll keep coming”; oh man, I’m almost crying just thinking about it, it’s such a beautiful sample of the human spirit and its struggle to transcend and overcome chaos. This song is an anthem for me and I chose it to be the soundtrack of this moment in my life where I’m so full of hope, and so much closer to my dreams but also surrounded by such anonymity and uncertainty.
Some progress
Well, I’ve made progress in my two books so for both of them the first draft of the respective first chapters is almost finished; seems super slow but it’s a big step for me and I’m sure I’ll become more fluent with time.
When it comes to the series “In the Wings of a Raven”, I’m writing my first piece on Kurt Cobain and it’s been quite a lot of research mainly because I want to be fair in my writing about people who are not here with us to tell us their thoughts any longer; for me, it’s risky, not cause I’m afraid of opinions but because I’m deeply respectful of human life and human dignity.
It’d be easy to write about Kurt and center it all on the more visible aspects of his public persona, while he was actually a very complex, talented, and sensitive individual who had too much on his mind until it became unbearable for him. I’m not done with the research nd I’ve started writing the story, I will post it here once it’s finished and you’ll tell me what you think about it.
By the way, below is an AI interpretation of Kurt dreaming of escaping from a dungeon, how do you feel about it?
This fine gentleman is such a delightful company tonight
I have a headache, like a pretty bad one and I hate it. Feeling ill lowers my motivation a lot, and I hate the feeling of losing time; when I’m ill it’s difficult to be creative and thankfully, I was still able to bring a laptop to bed and work on my writing for a fair amount of time.
I took two pills a while back, but I’m starting to feel relief after a while of listening to Liszt; maybe it’s the combined effect of both things. Music can be a real emotional burden for me, especially when I yearn for something new that touches my soul and I can’t find it, but more often than not, it’s just magic, a true spice to the dullness of the mundane life and even in my current situation, a real medicine for my pain.
I’m planning an episodic series about patients in a mental institution and I’ve been writing down the whole concept tonight, I seriously believe it’s gonna kick ass and I will publish it here first, then probably in Medium and I’m thinking Wattpad as well.
When it comes to how I organize my projects and thinking, I’ve had to find the freedom of being myself while also aiming to be more disciplined; it’s a thin line and a delicate balance that requires a lot of effort from me. I’ve already started writing a novel, another series on fantasy and now I’m developing this idea. But they’re very different projects in their scope and intention:
The novel is a psychological thriller that explores the nature of deviance and the idea of evil, from a systemic, cultural and philosophical point of view. It’s meant to be violent but also sophisticated and thought-provoking. It may take me a very long time to write it and have it ready, it will also be my first experience in formally publishing a book and so, it’s a rather complex project that I want to take my time to carefully complete.
The second project is a fantasy series that retells a lot of historical events from the perspective of a rather peculiar character. It’s a mockery to human stupidity and herd mentality while also an apology of the dissident, beautiful freaks of different ages. In doing this, it eventually starts becoming a cultural commentary of our time. This one I will release in episodes, and rather than aiming for a book or book series, I plan to make this story a social media experiment.
The third project, the one I’ve been focused on tonight, is an exercise in episodic story-telling and short story, but with a very challenging twist for me: it’s meant to be a “dramedy”, so a drama that deals with very painful and serious topics but it’s presented with a degree of dark humor. There are two special things about this latest project:
I will be able to talk about a very personal and relevant topic which is mental health; if you’ve read my previous articles, then you know I take this very seriously and I’m very supportive of people going through such hardship.
This is my most immediate project: I’m used to write blogs posts in a very free style, as well as some of my poetry; but I’ve never published stories before and I feel a terrible urge to do so as soon as possible. So it’s coming, very soon.
I’d like to write a lot more tonight, because there’s so much inside of me, sometimes I feel like my thoughts are a violent ocean contained in a rather frail vessel. And I’m OK with that, I am what I am, and I’ll work with it. I need to sleep so hopefully I’m in better health tomorrow.
That is one of the settings for the novel I’m working on.
I don’t know whether this is the first time you read me or if you have already read me before, but in either case, I’ll tell you, I’m an engineer (as in computer engineer) who’s taking a big gamble in his life by seriously attempting to become an author.
This blog is a stepping stone, and the story I’m working on is another; I hope you keep reading me and buy my book once it’s out and that you love it, because it’s slowly baked but crafted with much care and dedication.
But maybe, like I often do in these “Late Night Journals” I just want to share a piece of my inner world, maybe vent or just confess my feelings and thoughts full of thorns, that root deeply within me, and pluck them out during my confession.
Fuck man, why do I have to get all fucking poetic when I just want to blog xD
Why are poets typically regarded as silly? I see real power in poetry.
OK in any case, it’s been like ages since I don’t post a late-night entry, what’s going on with me? I’ll tell you what, my life is not a line, but a constellation. One day I will expand on this.
But I want to come back and start doing this more frequently, I need it and it allows me to connect with you. You see, I get lost within myself for seasons, I start exploring things that need fixing, or that need attention, or simply engage in another difficult piece of my grand project which I’ve been working on for over 2 years now and I anticipate will continue until I die.
What’s that project you ask? I won’t spoil it by explaining it, it’s a work in progress and you will see it for yourself when it’s ready, I promise.
I’m listening to Low Roar right now, and believe it or not, that’s the happiest music choice I was able to make at this time of this day specifically. I’ve been a bit blue if I’m to be honest, for no specific reason, just out of being depressive.
I’ve told you Low Roar is one of my favs, haven’t I?
I’ve been thinking about aging and death. I’m 35 but I’m also a very dramatic person with very complicated emotions, in about 1 month I’ll be turning 36 so effectively been 1 year into the second half of my life and that’s just freaking terrifying for me. I’m not shy in confessing that I’m afraid of death, and even with that, I consider myself a stoic and I hold “memento mori” as one of the dear principles that help me appreciate life and live more fully.
Paradoxically, this awareness of the subject of death also combines rather toxically with my oscillating depression. I’ve been listening to a podcast on Carl Jung lately, it’s called “Digital Jung” by Jason E. Smith; if you’re in your 30’s or later I’d seriously recommend it to you: https://open.spotify.com/show/7llKTskyo8kDCaLG91IFGK?si=a2a8951156de41b5
This show is worth every minute spent listening to it
So listening about the pursuit of meaning and the more reflexive attitude other people adopt around my age kind of calms me down a notch and reassures me I’m not especially damaged. And some of you will say I’m still young and shouldn’t be this concerned with death but here are two things:
Being afraid of not living fully; that’s a key concern, more than death itself. Looking back and not being able to be satisfied with my ability to make the most of this ride, to do meaningful things, to be a candle in the dark.
Being afraid of actual death: not that I think it hurts or something, I mean, it’s entirely possible that it does depending on how it happens but I’m afraid of letting go, of disappearing, and becoming a memory. I’m afraid of futility because I know life will simply move on, and my importance or impact is very limited, even if I get to be reputable or famous.
So maybe I’m not afraid of death, maybe it’s just the parameters of human existence that anger and hurt me, maybe I’m dealing with pain more than with fear.
Sorry, I told you I was feeling blue.
At any rate, I’m making a huge effort to live through these feelings without resorting to denial. It’s easy to resist the truth, I don’t believe there’s anything easier than to console yourself with a lie.
I also feel like needing alcohol or opiates, or just some powerful distraction. But I’d rather write.
I’d rather double my efforts to actually keep building a life I find meaningful on my own terms, and just throw myself headlong into experiencing it with its struggles and joys, its uncertainties and blessings.
I believe this is not resorting to self-deception, but all the opposite, it’s traveling with eyes wide open. And the old man Josue will regard his 35-year-old version as the architect of a much more acceptable version of death.
I can’t handle it all, while showing my face and speaking my mind.
Not all at once, a day is not enough, and a lifetime certainly isn’t.
I need to travel inwards, and bring the treasures from the dark places I visit. It’s how I print my soul into this world, it’s how I shape chaos into beauty, so that you can smile.
Because I want you to smile, my heart longs for your relief, for your peace, for your inner light to become a beacon of hope, grace, and love.
So, I disappear.
And when I do, I remember why I do this and it fills me with courage, to uncover the veil that hides the dreadful shadows.
You see, my morning’s gone now and sunrise is but a distant memory,
with it, the raging fire gave way to a quiet rain
that’s much smoother as it shapes a creek,
but the longer it falls, the more abundant the waters,
until it’s irrigating the forests and giving life to the thirsty animals
and the lonely wanderers.
It’s a river now, a river that brings with it the inevitable life,
the light that imposes itself without violence, in a quiet beam.
I disappear, but I will always return,
until the day I won’t because the work is done
and so, my evening comes.
On that day, take all of my treasures and share them,
build a home for the broken,
and remember me, not by my wounds,
but by the honest love that blossomed from my pain
Last night, an old enemy knocked at my door, very violently so, neither hiding his face nor disguising his voice.
He smelled of moist walls, and of old, cheap wood; of rotting hope and dreams past due. He carried a bag, his intention was to leave it inside of my home, where I struggle to be born.
This insidious gift was a generous serving of the harvest he can no longer bear, as it’s more abundant than he expected and more devastating than he would ever anticipate. This fruit and its maggots are the death of every winged creature and the doom of every child who struggles to live inside the likes of me.
For a moment, I stretched my hand to turn the doorknob, for destruction is far easier than the journey ahead; for there’s a foe to blame and a poison to explain to myself and then others so they can later explain it to me again. For I am tired, and there’s a wild abyss ahead, and I could be the hero or just one more of the dead, in the womb of fate. For it seems safer dying at home and let it happen so, that it seems the thing most would call the way of man.
Then I stopped, and I screamed with hatred and violence, and pain: “Accursed, go away! For there’s a land beyond the abyss and a torch to lead the way, for the glory of the hero is also the glory of the dead he finds in his way, they’re the bricks that lay the path of the brave, and their blood will never go to waste. Away with your living carcass and your prudent mask, for you who claimed to be wise, are the tomb of the unborn hero and the thief of every precious gift of light”.