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* - [in the title] - I truly meant "reevaluate how you spend your time on ze Intranetz"
** - I don't think post subject has character limit. I cut the words at the end for shits and giggles. Also laziness.
I don't quite see the point. I'm writing pure bullshit and slapping #freewriting on it.
I am producing words, strings, sentences but .... bleh. Just bleh.
"Don't give 'em real, give 'em interesting."
"Take any time of the day, every day, and dedicate it to writing down whatever comes to mind."
Okay, check. I'm doing that. But I'd like something more....concrete.
Once upon a time, there was a flower. It grew, it blossomed, spread its seed, wilted and died. The end.
Where? In the field. Wait. In a pot. Cool! Where exactly? On my windowsill. Nice. But, who is "me"? Who cares, like really, can I even, like? Damn. On her windowsill. There we go. Who is "she"? Who cares. It's a girl, everyone likes girls. Let's leave it to readers' imagination. That's brilliant! I don't have to write anything about her then. Woo-hoo!
But, what kind of flower was it? Who cares. Leave it to readers' imagination. Wow, "lazy writer achievement unlocked". I like this.
Once upon a time, there was a flower. It grew in a pot, on her windowsill. It blossomed, spread its seed, wilted and died. The end.
I guess flower's day to day was: wake up at sunrise(aka curtainswipe), absorb water through capillary action(if watered), eat and try to pump out some buds/flowers/seed. Okay. Now, I have to make it simpler because I know I love to complicate stuff. At curtainswipe, it ate and drank and dreamt of flowers.Neato! I personified that thingy. It almost feels real! Why? I dunno. Anthropocentrism. Or its desires sound real-er.
A flower pot is just a flower pot but I guess it would be significant to the flower so..... is it plastic? Hmmm. Maybe *she* took pottery clases and made one herself! Oh, well, is the flower special to her somehow? Was it a gift? Is she seriously good at pottery? Is it embroidered or painted or shaped like a pinapple ? There we go.
Once upon a time, there was a plant. On her windowsill it grew - in a clay pot shaped like a pineapple. At curtainswipe, it ate and drank. At curtainmatch [swipe vs match, omg I'm so hip] it dreamt of flowers. Eventually, it wilted and died. The end.
Hey! I said plant! So no one has any idea what will the flowers look like. Pure genius.
Meaning - flowers are an important part of the story. That is the end goal. Desires blossoming to fruition [pun or not?].[extremely tryhard bad bad bad pun]. Anywaysies. Let's not digress.
If it just grew flowers and died, that would be "easy". How do I make it "interesting"? Oh, well, let's do it by the book, shall we?
- Morning. Tired. So tired. I really hope I'm not wilti-
--- Don't say that! We are beautiful and we'll always be!
- Awh, shut up. You're the one who's always pushing to be closer to the sun. Did you overextend? Again !? Maybe that's why we're tired.
--- It's not true! How could you say that? I'm not selfish, I would neve-
- Yada-yada-yada-yaaaaaa. Tired anyway. Did she forget to water us perhaps ?
- Then what could it be? Ooooooh.
--- What is it? Tell me! Pleeeeeeeease?
--- TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME
- Oh, we're gonna be even more beautiful it seems.
--- ERMEGHERD REALLY? HOW?
- Looky-loo. We're budding.
--- Oh no, we're gonna die! My life is over! OUR life is over!
- No biggie, it's just how it is.
--- Do you even know what budding does to a plant? I've heard stories. Googled it even. Seen Tumblr pics of others. It's TERRIBLE(U).
Dear gods, what have I done. What am I doing with my life. Well, time is up. Yaaay.
>WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE WILL BE FLOWERS?<
>*intense watering sounds*<
*even more intense bumper music*
>HEY! HEY, LADY, YOU GONNA WATER ME OR WHAT?
"Stay tuned for even more exciting dialogue with "Secret life of Plants"."
As intriguing as watching the paint drying.
"Who do you think you are? No, you are not special. You are just another word in billions upon billions of words. You are going to fit neatly into my Great Plan, exactly how I want you to. Why do you even think you're too good for me? Are you a fancy puzzle piece from another fancy set? Eh, you are not good enough, anyway. I don't like what you stand for, this dictionary here says you are meaningless to me. And besides, arranged letters? We call those "words"? What's so extraordinary about that?"
Hey, I'm sorry, not everything is just about me. Maybe you'd like to be heard too, right?
I appreciate you. I think you're just fine. I don't care if there was Socrates once upon a time who thought of the exact same idea. You're not the same. No, I really mean it. Come, sit for a cup of coffee, I'd like your company.
Now, tell me - what would you like?
Would you like to grow with me? Could that make you happy?
Am I good enough for you? Am I significant enough for you? I know you'll get jumbled in the process of translating my thoughts into words. I understand, it's risky.
Can you really trust me, will you really become something better, why would you even bother if it's just not worth it?
I found it difficult to see past the "first impression". I'm sorry I called you "vague", but that's what you were to me at that moment in time. I'd like to get to know you better. You don't have to improve in any way to be "fitting" for me. Just lend me some of your time and attention because I'm interested in you.
I don't know why. I really don't. I can't describe it. I find you appealing.
Of course, I understand. You don't want to do it. I respect you decision.
I guess I ruined my "first impression". I was too agressive and inconsiderate. I apologise.
Yes, of course, you have to go now. Farewell.
I can't help but wonder what would she be like.
What was so special about her anyway?
I don't know.
What wasn't so special about me? C'mon, I'm unique.
I'll remember you. I'll miss you. I'll be angry with you. For I am God and everything within my grasp is mine and mine only. How could this happen?
But, still, I am powerless. I wished you would stay but you didn't.
What is a weak god? Does such a thing exist? Would anyone in their right mind worship a vulnerable god?
Can I, even, trust myself?
I mean, how can I? I rely on me and me only. But I am not strong enough. Seriously, how can I keep myself safe? How can I provide for myself?
It hurts. It fucking hurts. I cannot accept it. How does one even cope?
I can't be like that. I have to be big. I have to be strong. I have to be powerful. I must have everything.
Why is this happening to me? Just me? Exactly me, right at this moment? This is not the way to be. I need it.
I want it.
I can't go on like this. It's meaningless. It's just a little too much.
Awh, c'mon, I'm not that special. Bad things happen just because. No one is punishing me. I'm not guilty of anything. I'm not a mistake. It wasn't chance, it wasn't destiny. It is out of my control for sure.
It is random and it always will be. And I accept it.
Patience. Perseverance. Gratitude.
My wants remain unchanged.
My faith shall not falter.
This is all I've got. This is my only shot.
"Pain without purpose is suffering."
If anything really stood out to you, point it out in the comments, pretty please.
Critiques are not important to me, currently.
I thank you for your time.
Not feeling this one much. Doesn't have the impact I wanted it to have. A few strings here and there but it's .... empty. Relatable? Maybe, but in a pretty sloppy way. It's lacking detail or something. It's not connected. This is buckshot, basically. It needs more LAZOR focus.
I'm happy with it anyway. I can see a Beethoven pattern with my stuff now - tragedy, tragedy, tragedy, catharsis. I don't know what to think about that.
Oh, boy, was I wrong.
Quick rewind: I quit Newgrounds because I got frustrated with music (and my life and everything else). Without music (my favourite distraction/passion) - I filled the gap with Twitch, got figurative cancer and quit that after a month.
I was lost. Been lost my whole life (cue sad violin) but this was special. It actually took some serious discipline to sever every single distraction (hey, I even quit smoking for those two weeks!). Feeling as if I were in a solitary cell I finally got to know what I'm really like. Never actually took the time to sit by myself and reintroduce me to .....me. Seems funny, eh?
I am a failure, I am a waste of space, I am a mistake, I am worthless.
Shit happens, paths converge or split, people change, life happens in the meantime - all the small choices(especially the ones you didn't make actively) and experiences eventually add up. Same thing happened to me. I have become "someone else". Just like aging, one wrinkle at the time.
I am only getting worse, I am never going to achieve anything, I am a hopeless case.
So, I was digging through my journal, diving into my "memory box" (boxES, actually), logging into some sinister alt accounts (suicideproject for example) and figuring out who I was. In the meantime, I said "fuck it" and cannonballed myself into the job market as white trash. Turns out - I'm actually not that bad at interviewing, jobbing and adulting. Hopping from one to another sans arrêt, I actually landed somewhere decent. Unbelievable, right?
I am useless, I am irresponsible, I am a shitbag, I am selfish, I am a sociopath, I am spoiled, I am a parasite.
Time became scarce. Scarcity adds more value. My day-to-day became cleaner with less clutter. I actually started doing "priority" stuff, the stuff that matters to me. I love cooking so I cooked and baked. I "figured out" I actually love music (again) and worked on it. I picked up songwriting even! I found myself planning activities that would make me happy. I started treating myself as a person which is weird. To me, at least.
Life without others is purposeless. All the time and energy I have while on this earth is reserved for others. I am an empty vessel. I am a pawn. I am an instrument. I am a tool.
There I am. I have a job I actually like. I can support myself. I am content in my own skin, I am tranquil in my own skull and pretty warm in my heart (pretty neat string, huh?) - I've never really thought I'd ever get there.
"Hi, new me! You're pretty cool and you deserve to be happy! I want you to be happy! All the difficult choices you made aside (and regrets and .... everything) - I'm glad you're still here, alive and kicking. I really am."
And nope. That's what they said. Here's my impression of me:
I am compassionate. I am positive. I am energetic. I am worthy. I make others smile genuinely. I accept and admit my flaws and my faults and my mistakes. I am improving. I love sharing love. I am agape. I know what's right and I'm not succumbing to pressure anymore. I am alone by choice. I am carefully picking whom I'll bring into my life. I am honest. I am loyal. I am reliable. I think I'm a boring, not-interesting (adjectives are much goodly, so are dictionaries and thesauri) person. I think I'm somewhat egocentric. I think I'm a little too anxious and scarred. I fear I'll never find anyone who'll be able to know the whole me, thus I sometimes feel like a retired college hooker. The shame is pretty real. If I'm not a part of the hook-up culture, am I a failure? A prude? A "hopeless romantic"? Is there anything else that people my age can (realistically) give to another - other than just sex? I tried really hard to become (emotionally) independent. But...I can't keep myself from asking: "Am I missing something? Or, precisely, someone... in my life?". My beliefs, my opinions and my experiences shaped me into who I am - are they so alien, so different, so strange, so intense that there could be a decent chance of me being a "special snowflake" and not being able to connect with a significant other, ever?
So. This is a typical twentysomething year old kind of thing to do. Nothing original, but it matters to me - why did you read it, anyway? You can tell me, I won't bite :)
(this might become a regular thing as a freewriting exercise, I don't need critique, I just need to share, if something made an impact on you or really stood out, point it out in the comments below. I repeat: I don't want critique.)
I'm officially done with this. Time to grow up and find a decent hobby. There is more chance that I'll be invited to NA LCS (and that's astronomical) than making anything significant in/with music.
There's no real reason for me to stay on this site, so.... to all the people I had any contact with : bon courage.
arbitrary number blah-blah
I, the smartest person in the Universe, deleted my browser cache and that's what my youtube looks like now.
F. M. L.
I guess it's pretty sad that the only thing I remember about that song is her skin. But I will admit, free of guilt and shame, I watch country music videos. I just love horses and landscapes.
All of my playlists are gone. And I am a hoarder. Oh, I am.
Imagine tonnes of dessert recipes from millions of food channels I'm subscribed to, carefully picked for over a year. Blast-from-the-past music list that makes (made) me mega-happy and/or mega-bucket-of-ice-cream-craving-nostalgic. AND, OF COURSE, MY "WATCH LATER" WHICH IS ALWAYS THREE TO FOUR SCREEN HEIGHTS LONG. I don't really care about the one with audiofag and vocal stuff, it was all shit anyway.
But it's all gone. Oh, well, I say hello to Justtin Bieber, sports, One Direction, clickbait crap, 10 Stupid Lists Containing Facts I Pulled Out Of My ....and all the otter(what if I say I'm not like the otters!?) trendy stuff.
You cannot imagine my pain. My life is so hard. All these terrible things happening.
- WHO GIVES A SHIT.
Thank you, Hoo, for giving a shit. These are some serious problems, you know.
- LIKE WHAT?
What if - someone saw my youtube? Huh? They'd think I'm a basic bitch. And all that because I deleted my cache. And that, my friend, is terrible.
I'm currently on the hunt for free samples, soundfonts, VSTis and plug-ins. Once I test everything out, I'll compile a download list for all the people out there. You can never have too much of free gear, right? Makes it even better if it's crappy CPU compatible!
Am I compensating for my nonexistent technique? Maybe. I don't really have a technique. It's all about what (s)he said on some random forum post or video and then, later, I wonder why it's not working for me.
iz gna b k
My god, I suck. Oh, how I fucking suck, it's unimaginable. And it's not a recent kind of a thing. I've been myself for a long time. But I think I've figured it out, finally.
Weltschmerz? That shit was terrible.
Growing up? Fuck, man. I'm still in beta, though.
From now on, it's gonna change. I mean everything changes and nothing stays the same forever but you get the point.
I wanted to say :
My retarded frame of reference will be recalibrated.
I will stop being a lazy fuck. Life sucks dicks but you gotta do something with it.
I gotta get #BeachReady, starting now, because I'm fucking fat, weak and saggy. Maybe start #SelfieWhoring once in shape.
No "adult" advice shall be taken seriously from now on. Fuck yall. You're way too old and your lives are yours only. I ain't seein' any of yall leading a glorious dickwad hobo bohemian lifestyle I wanna.
I'm not going to even try at "being successfull" and "having a real career" until I'm 35 because no one gives a shit about me. Except for gay people, mother-types of women and babies. They like me a lot.
So, bring on the shittiest of the shittest jobs.
: unlock secret medal - find a gay employer or an HR baby.
So I've gotta make 'em short and attainable. And I also have to put one that's "impossible" and long-term, so :
Put out a worldwide popular, commercially successfull album in 2018.
Whew. This should kinda make sense of it all but whom am I kidding. Life is meaningless. I have no idea. I dunno what I wanna do. I guess that's the "fun" of it. Like spending 6 hours in Skyrim leveling random shit without any guidance only to be killed by a mountain and/or a giant and/or a band of mercs.
Only in this case, you waste years upon years with no save/reload mechanics and your play time is completely RNG.
Yessssssss, maybe I need a mentor. JEDI MASTER, SENPAI, PLIX, NOTICE ME, I'M CLUELESS, WTF IS LIFE, TEACH ME THE WAY OF THE DARK SIDE, IMMA TRAILER WHITE TRASH WITH IQ 130 (ALLEGEDLY) WHO FUCKED EVERYTHING UP. (and proudly doing so still)
HORIZONTAL LINES, HYPE!
STAY PISSED, GRASSHOPPERS! LIFE SUCKS! <3
Not fishing for compliments or anything. I just don't understand why I can't accept my suckiness. It's like someone implanted "ur da shit" in my brain. I've gotta work on myself. Don't know why. But I can feel the calling. Or maybe I'm not supposed to "be better". Maybe "this" is "it".
"Is *this* the best you've got?" - May be, bitch.
Completely sidetracked: I joined the NGASS and I delivered the track. It was fucking horrible. Plans are made to make it less horrible but I'm in over my head in that case. I've got shitty soundfonts and libraries and my technique sucks overall. I'm taking the slow, iterative approach but yeah. It's gonna take a while.
"JUST... DO. IT." kinda sucks. "nothing is impossible", yeah, right.
I have to actually believe that I can do it. It's not about "just doing it" if I think that I just suck.
It's a nice catchphrase, though. "just do it". was that a Nike's commercial or something?
Stuff's rolling. I think I improved a little. More projects coming my way, that's nice.
It's counterintuitive, but - the more serious I am about a project - the greater is the chance for me to tilt like a little bitch. Fucking hillarious. How am I supposed to work around that? What if I really, really wanna do some "serious" stuff? And it's not just on "I wanna" level; more like "I have to" or "I feel obligated".
My typical creative process:
- find a project to work on
- ask for Julia's blessing (anyone up for drawing an imaginary character? it would mean a shittonne to me)
- imagining the "demo" in my head
- mental demo into DAW
- foundation is done, critical thinking turns on : "this sucks, let's scrap this"
- one month later: "imagine if I did ....... and turned that thing I scrapped into a complete disaster"
- "oh, it's not that bad after all"
- GG. wtf.
Umm, actually, it's not wtf. It makes sense. According to CER and ETT, an emotion from anywhere in the spectrum can fuel an action. And I'm an idiot. Why do I think "stress" is associated with "serious/good" and "not-stress" with "not-serious/bad". Oh, well. Brain, good job. Have some kiwi pie as a reward.
It's been a little over year already. It think one year of grieving is enough. I don't feel like it, but I think it's enough.
According to some random shit, I survived one year and one day (ain't that Norse mythology?). This is my new life. All four seasons. I just gotta start moving. Hopefully.
"Special dates" of the year (why the fuck are they even "special") are not the same (same old, same old) but it's okay. I doesn't even make sense to blame anything or anyone. Fuck you, fuck the Universe, fuck Life, fuck God, fuck eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeveeeeeeeeryone. I believe in Fortune though. Not gonna cuss at her. She might throw something worse my way if I do so. And I don't wanna even fathom what could that even be.
You know, I feel guilty if a day passes by and I don't remember you. I feel horrible if I do, but I feel the same if I don't. It kinda doesn't make sense because I don't even know what I'm supposed to remember. Everything's faded and filled with regret. And no, I'm not gonna open that box to refresh my memory. You can stay there. Be safe. Don't hold your breath. Seems like I'm gonna be stuck here for a while.
I'm crying : "HOW THE FUCK?" and actually crying.
I still remember the Elfsong Tavern tune about the spectral lady who(m)(?) had lost her husband(allegedly a sailor).
And, of course, the Fus-ro-dah series - Sons of Bada-bing-Bada-Boom. Goosebumps, yo. I'm sure he's got more stuff, but these just stuck with me. They come back to me at random.
Seems like I always focus on the wrong stuff. Melodies are the shit.
I, dunno why though, have always thought progressions were the most important part because they're the foundation, the core, right? But yeah, slapping a progression onto a melody is stupidly easy - it's not the same the other way around.
I came here in August to offer audiofag services and to improve. What have I learned thusfar? I dunno, Samsung smartphone earbuds are the flattest piece of equipment I have? HAHAHA. I've got cans. They're "bass boosted" and also roll off at 17K. Sounds like fun. My ex-cans (rust in pieces as I tried to fix 'em) were polarity twisted but mega awesome. How do I compensate for this shit, I don't know. Master compensation EQ by SeamlessRSenpai? Hm, newp,,, I don't trust my judgment.
There's Mid/Side processing! But I have no idea how that shit works. I mean, I can't apply it. I mean, I'm trying to make all-dry-mono stuff to sound stereo. Sounds, like, pretty reasonable, right. Dickwad. Yes, yes, psychoacoustics and all that shit, yeeeeeeeesh. I can't hear any significant difference.
Ooooh, there's something called "phase". Mmmmmmmm. Sexeh. And there be dragons and various shapes of basic waveforms aaaaaaand synthebro/synthesis.
I found some random stems on the intranetz and tried mixing 'em. it was a glorious fail.
Now I'm wondering why am I even doing this shit. WHAT DO I DO WITH MY LIFE?
It always comes back to that question. For it is a recurring inquiry. Oh, yes, vocabulary skillz.
This is tragic. I'm basically living in the Wonderland all the time and writing stuff down is the only thing that grounds me. I'm in a bubble, obviously.
Do you ever feel like a complete noob?
WHY WOULD I HALF-TRACK (*), HALF-MIX AND HALF-MASTER SOMETHING AND THEN LABEL IT FOR SHIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET?
AAAAAAAAAAAND, of course, BUSSES AND SENDS are for PUSSIEEEEEEEES.
Bouncing? Is that a Filipino name?
fuck CPU usage,
fuck, fuckity, fuck-fuck-fuck.
I said fuck. I'm sooo edgy.
I'm so angry with myself I could surprise-suicide myself.
I've no idea how could I even pull it off but that's how pissed I am.
Workflow isn't as important with short tracks. But this one is like four minutes long with at least five different sections and I don't even know how many instruments.
Thor almighty, help me.
But, hey, that's the joy of learning everything the haaaaaaaard way.
I'm feeling pretty confident about this track. It's gonna be good.
Maybe too good? (to be truuuuuuue, can't take my eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyes....)
Imagine moderators banning me because of my suspicious quality improvement.
BAH, whom am I kidding. Probably gonna be donkey shit anyway (objectively speaking).
Stay pissed, grasshoppers!
The path of self-betterment is a tricky one but -
extremely gratifying in the end. (where the fuck ever "end" is)
* half-tank, half-artillery, half-panzerschreck
** BooBass. I didn't realize until now it was "Boobies".