thank god it's not Christmas

We're all solipsistic people. We don't acknowledge it, and most don't even grasp it firmly enough to admit it. but we are. Most of us.
We don't care about each other nearly as much as we care about how accommodating our own surroundings are. And achieving this level of comfort requires meaningful, heartfelt, or just convincing enough compassion. Being the confidant or expressing empathy.
Personal security requires some emotional investments in other people. It's a safe bet; people are cheap, the payoff is immediate, and if you play your cards right, long-lasting. We all pay through the teeth every day without even thinking about it.
I can't count the compliments I've given that I really couldn't tell I'd actually meant, except for the fact that they sounded both very nice and very true. The same goes for smacktalk. This doesn't make me a bad person, but I won't sit here and say it makes me a good person either. I'm just observant. and I often neglect my filters because emotional bias has no place in addressing the objective state of being. which apparently I really enjoy.
I could both deeply insult and profoundly compliment every remotely close friend I keep without a second thought.
This has it's benefits and handicaps, but abusing the most profitable one would be exploitation and I wouldn't like myself. And you don't seem like a sucker who likes being belittled. A person will believe anything you say to them about themselves as long as it's flattering, so I make pretty sure It's important and that (I think) I mean it. I'm an asshole to people I actually think something of because flattery is too easy. You have every right not to take it as a compliment. I just like acknowledging things. I'll work on it when it gets boring.

I'm aware this is all a very pessimistic viewpoint and not everyone's going to be open to it. But there are merits to it that I hope don't get overlooked just because it wrecks your boner.

in conclusion
solipsism: weird stuff !!

The cost of observation

hey! It's me again. David!
I'm coming here to confirm that everything I predicted about the change in season was right. I don't know if it triggers some form of lament and I impose some silly self destruction for that reason alone, but fall is always just batshit unpleasant. The difference this year is that I'm casually rolling with the punches. I don't feel overwhelmed but it certainly hasn't been the best year(month) of my life so far. The creative drive is back, and I'm always a little intrigued how the two uncannily correlate to each other.
I was reading a book yesterday
just kidding, it was a graphic novel. regardless I was reading a book yesterday.
It was quite enjoyable actually, I rarely find the time or patience to read text that isn't backlit. The book itself I wasn't actually big on. The art seemed dated, the kind of stuff you'd see framed in an equally dated and barren restaurant. Maybe even a mcdonalds. wasn't my thing. All of the text in the book was narrated from the perspective of a third party and being so, didn't warrant thought or dialogue bubbles, which was interesting.. but it was written pretty incredibly dryly. And intentionally dryly. y'know, so it's kinda charming?
anyway very little about the book actually engaged me until I noticed how well I could identify with the main character, who was a detached middle-aged bachelor, and succesful playwright. He was charmless and severly socially awkward. Deriving all of his inspiration from his own life observations and personal shortcomings. He was prolific, because he kept to himself, took notes on everything, and the few close relationships he held he squandered for his own personal gain; exploiting his brothers retardation in a (succesful)attempt to write and award-winning play. His mother and father hadn't spoken to him since, but to him it was worth the trouble because the playwright never wastes good material. ever.
And while the majority of the book was about his love/sex(or lack thereof) life and the interest in, the message was the same. It's about a distanced sexless creatively productive type, who later quits writing altogether in order to settle down and take part in the practice of life instead of the study. I don't know if it was intended, but the happy ending was depressing as hell. This dude was either in or of the world everyone else was living in, but had no option to do both

now I'll put this out on the table right now: I'm not middle aged. which means I don't claim to be in the cold and removed state of this character. But the fact remains that this old shithead was incredibly and comfortably relatable for me. Moreso than any youthful character in any other story. I've mentioned a lot before how I have a hard time switching gears from the loud social and thoughtlessly elated version of myself to the "work" version of myself. Whether it's going to my place of employment on a monday or just spending time alone for introspective reflection, or to work on a painting. The two are polar opposites, and they seem to clash when they get too close to each other. It only stands to reason that eventually one will overpower the other.

I'm not above the notion that this affliction is nothing more than a self-fulfilling prophecy. But the worry remains in the back of my head. I've never been creatively and socially active at the same time, so I stress that the conclusion is either or. With a personality like mine, the dichotomy isn't an accommodating one. Exploit your relationships, or embrace them. Live a happy and mediocre life , or a detached but revered one. blah blah or blah blah.

this is merely a stream of consciousness for now because I apparently have things to do today that aren't fixing drafts for myself to read. but it felt necessary to leave a reminder to draw a conclusion, eventually, before resigning myself to the fate of one or the other . I guarantee I take all advice with a dumptruck full of salt, but on this one if you can at all relate, you understand it's not as self imposed a dilemma as it sounds. drop me some hot cents if u got em

I'm becoming one myself

I haven't had much to say lately because I've been choking on a lot of pride. Haven't done much worth noting and would be too sloppy to note it. while this blog has always been therapeutic first and foremost, I also do my best to keep it flowing smoothly and coherently for the few interested or bored enough to read.
If you've been paying attention you've noticed by now that things don't change a lot. Simply because I don't want to change them. I'm the kind of person that will quite readily make himself comfortable no matter how uncomfortable I am, wherever I am. It gets to a point that's easy, I learn how it works and use it to my advantage(if at all possible). As much as this is a good thing, in the way that I can adapt easily, it's also a pretty big handicap.
The past couple years for example, I've made the choice to opt for very little change, because I fear a new perspective will change the way I operate. I haven't felt comfortable or "at home" in years, ever. and I've made that totally acceptable. I worry I'll stop being passionate and exploring subjects that I now feel strongly about. Keeping in mind I'm aware anything I explore at this point won't come from a place of naivety, I still worry a lack of belief or virtue will start to bleed through in all of it and I'll consider myself a dirty hack.
I don't have beef with happiness. positive emotions can be cool as hell. But I have a problem with people who shut out their other emotions, and judge me for acknowledging the rest in such an unapologetic manner. A smile is usually cheap, terrible movies make me smile. but to stare at something bitter, and unrelenting in the face, fully understand it and learn to smile with it. That's something you take home with you, something that reminds you sleep shouldn't always come easy, and that's fine. A drunken shark with a knife in your peripheral vision is still a drunken shark with a knife

I'm honest with myself as often as I can be, because if I wasn't I wouldn't trust myself. But I don't see that anybody conducts themselves the same way. My biggest shit is people who don't acknowledge themselves for who they are. If I can invoke something you've been denying yourself or make you feel like shit for what you're playing off as acceptable behavior for cheap grins, I'm satisfied. If it offends you, oops! But your counterfeit pearlies offend me. and despite how big an asshole it makes me look it isn't always easy to put out there; this is far from schadenfreude.
The nature of what I make and say is incredibly public, and incredibly revealing. So revealing that I forget everyone else has to actually observe and asses their own version of me, before they can even come close to knowing me. I've known people for years that still give me the same advice that I'd never even consider taking, and believe firmly against in a lot of cases. I'm almost offended that some people can't fathom my actions or beliefs without a very thorough and yet very simple explanation. Not that I really consider my own behavior approachable. If anything this blog has become an assisting tool in interpretation. But then again I guess this could be summed up with that entry about subtlety. next week: moderation.
Anyways I'm sorry if your impression of me has ever been "dick for no reason". What I'm actually trying to get at is that I can't condone gratifying denial or insecurities by letting you shoot blind cats in a barrel. This goes beyond childish envy of a simpler or larger capacity for happiness, though that shit does explode my mind sometimes. Life is open to interpretation and that's exactly what gives it any meaning. Stop focusing blindly on the black and white, because you're missing the super pretty 98 shades of grey in between. Your emotions hold incredible value, and they all need to be acknowledged. Swim in your shit and your bathwater, etcetera.
I'm sure I'm close to repeating myself with this entry, but it's worth the extra bit of clarity. As for everything else I said, I exaggerated a bit and I'm still planning on moving(eventually. still.) as much as I fear change, the fate of a broken record is way the fuck worse than the fate of a flimsy but audible record. you can count on something happening whenever I stop saying the things I always say. you'll know it when you see it

the new blogspot interface informed me of my blog's 4,000th view today
considering how long I've been posting that's pretty unimpressive, but more detailed stats inform me that I have more than four readers which both surprises me and I guess really doesn't matter because it's all crap.
anyways here's the stuff I would've posted regardless and most of you have probably seen anyway
again without much comment. I can't take full credit for any of them because I just noticed they're all quotes. That's embarrassing. guess them all and I'll draw you whatever you like

happy thanksgiving pilgrims

I haven't done anything since I turned 22 besides getting a new cool scar on my face, so here's some old stuff you might not have seen yet. All very unrelated

the practice of subtlety

This is probably a ridiculous subject coming from me since a number of themes and topics I explore in art and writing are all but blatant. But you'll get what I mean when you get what I mean. Those of you who know me personally, know I'm far less outspoken in person than I am here. Far less eloquent on the spot anyways, as most everyone is. That's natural, but aside from that I do keep a lot to myself, and with good reason.

In the past I don't know how long, I've been working on observing the human character, or i guess "condition". I've been pissed and distraught, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I had taken everything like a pansy, and made the choice to lose. I don't believe in(barring some extreme circumstances) anybody playing the victim at the hand of someone else. It's a crutch, made out of poop. Everyone has problems, and everybody knows this. A lot of the time we earn them, play into them, and deny it. I felt I had a much different way of dealing with mine than everyone else; it was a treadmill. So I decided to take the bench and watch the actual race. To get a better idea of the nuances, subtleties and idiosyncrasies that are oh so acceptable forms of social behavior. To accordingly plan my own actions. I started taking notes. And one of the first taken, was one of the more prominent: Transparency is ugly as hell.

This cool old guy named Jesus is quoted as saying something along the lines of (depending which version of the same book you're reading): "A prophet is not without honour, save in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house."- Mark 6:4
Or for those of you that don't read books, "familiarity breeds contempt." It's more likely you've heard that one. It's a bit bleak, maybe extreme, but arguably the most true thing you've ever heard. We've all been told never to meet our idols for a reason; we don't want to know that they're human. To be human is to be faulty, predictable, and fragile. If I knew the process behind every piece of art or film I've ever loved I'd be depressed and disappointed.
I can assume you've experienced boredom and been devoid of lust or charm when growing familiar with someone you were at one point attracted to. I now find an incredible amount of worth in the fact that I scarcely gain more personal momentum than eye-contact with the people I find to be most appealing in passing. It is fulfilling, intimate, and the most elating severance you will ever experience. Every expectation out of this person was met through the brief exchange of two-second glance. There is nothing I find dreamier than a potential relationship I'll never have to experience. I make it my business to hang out where the dreamer and the realist hump(or make eye contact and keep walking) but I guess again bear in mind that this is coming from a dude taking mental notes on social manipulation

Attraction is observation, the things we gather from our very limited resources of the "first impression". This is almost always at least 80% aesthetic. If you're satisfied from the instance of a single glance, compare the odds that things will get better from here, to the odds that things between you and this person will not materialize and that your symmetrical, or a-symmetrical personalities will not accommodate each other. Again, not a defeatist attitude, this is a logical and viable practice that I will fight you over. I've seen some of my favorite minds resort to the lowest form of behavior as a result of the shortcomings of their own most prized and dependable affinities. Meanwhile I'm off somewhere having the best 2 seconds of my life. Who's the winner here? let's fight.
But this goes for all relations, even the frivolous, or the unfortunately necessary. Be a vigilant and secretly condescending asshole when you market yourself. Insecurities are hard to shrug off, but don't kid yourself. They're visible as long as they're there. For all the great things you have to say for yourself and about what you represent, It's clear why you're saying them instead of letting someone else.
It's not the diarrhea you're taking on the table that makes people interested in you, it's the diarrhea you have in your pocket. And the confidence you show keeping it there.
okay, bad analogy. It's the attractive new watch you're wearing that you don't need to tell anyone about because you know they'll take notice. Be aloof. If they don't notice, you need practice at getting cool watches. And this is almost a better position to be in, because you'll manage and control hard earned success much better than you'll manage the loose dump you took on the table. Curate your attributes wisely. Take notes. Practice. Keep your most valuable secrets, or have them stick out your cuff a bit by accident.

if you're wondering, the irony of the revealing nature of this post has not been lost on me. I hope in return the ever so slightly exaggerated bits aren't lost on you. I'm aware that I'm a caricature of a terrible person sometimes, but remember that inside of my actions and words and thoughts is a guy that keeps everybody close to him close to him because he'd be worthless without them. Don't let my endearing childish behavior fool you

NOW as I enter my twenty second year I leave you with this. I've fucked up a lot, but I'm constantly working on it, (swearsies). I don't meet the traditional standards of successful yet, but I know what I've got, and I've learned to take advantage of it. We all know the best part of any relationship/movie/story is never the end, but the arduous and whimsically retarded journey between that and the beginning. We've got a lot to learn, so here's to all the shit I'll have accomplished in the next 22 years, hopefully with all of you in close touch.

brief season

if you don't miss the summer yet I got something that wants you to. I don't particularly care for the concept of either but they're executed well and poignant @ all of you lacking a little more freedom and exuberance with every passing season. of course this is assuming you have 9 minutes to spare outside of your work/school, which you don't. see what I did there?
merry christmas

Wintercoats // Working on a Dream from Feel Good Lost on Vimeo.

Youth Lagoon - Montana from Tyler T Williams on Vimeo.

aw now you're depressed. or you should be. if you're not you're probably a smarmy cynic, in which case you have bigger problems that I don't care about.
anyway for those of you that think borderline crappy nostalgia is gay you can pretend the latter is about danny mcbride wearing a white t-shirt chasing an armyghost and burning stuff. there, now you like it.
I'll be back to post something COOL and verbose about myself soon, don't worry