5:20:1 experiment and the power of timers and rewards

12018.07.21 Saturday

9:45am – [Hammock’s Cruel Sparks] Writing now because I won’t feel like it tonight after work, and I’d rather do other stuff tomorrow morning.

{After one sentence, I get bored and suddenly switch from writing to trying to create a simply animation}

~50 minutes later

10:37am – UGGGGHHHH I JUST wanted to do a screen recording of this stupid animation I put together and the dumb recording app on my computer is not working. I feel dumb getting upset at stuff like this, but it’s stupid stuff like this when I run into an issue I wasn’t expecting where I end up taking MUCH longer than I thought that sets me back emotionally. Just feels like I’m wasting so much time.

But then I figured out something with PowerPoint that enables me to export a video.

I think one of the things I’d really like to get into is animation / video editing stuff. I feel like I’m 15 years behind though. {Feelings of regret and self-hate flood everywhere}


There is the damn stupid animation from powerpoint. I have SO much learn. 😦

Bit by bit day by day.


Back to the original damn purpose of this post.

For the past twodays I’ve been working with this 5:20:1 rule. I do 5 minutes of whatever – usually a quick writing session where I’m venting stuff. Maybe check the news. Then, for 20 minutes, I do work. I can turn on music or a podcast, but it needs to be something related cleaning my apartment, organizing files, paying bills, etc. After and hour, the ‘1’ then I take a longer break. I dunno, maybe 15 minutes? Then I do it all over again, until I reach the reward period. The reward period. This is the time at the end of the day, when I can just do whatever.

{When my mind/inner child knows the work WILL end at some point
it can DO WORK}

5 minute break / 20 minute work / X 3 / 15 minute break / X 2

reward period

{One day later}

As always, I meant to write more. But I have 8 minutes to finish this up and publish. Maybe I should spent more time on these throughout the week.

Overcome with my usual feeling of deep regret – I wish I started all of this sooner. Regret is one of my biggest enemies.

Good things:

  • The 5:20 / reward thing really has shown success. Because I have been keeping things relatively clean for the past couple days, in just ONE 20 minute session I was able to wash a couple dishes, clean my cat’s litter box, make my bed, clean the bathroom, and sweep.
  • I got completely ready to meet someone, BEFORE my usual rush period.
  • I went to bed when I felt tired – IMAGINE THAT

Grateful for:

  • Breaths – I can’t do deep breaths right away. Because I associate deep breaths with being calm. And most times I don’t feel calm. So I start with short, quick, ‘huffy’ breaths. And those usually quickly are able to move into deeper breaths that actually feel like I’m letting some anxiety go.

Hope you all have good weekends and weeks.


Monster space

Saturday, July 14, 2018 4:11pm

Jonsi’s Grow Til Tall… AGAIN.

High five to me for writing…the day BEFORE posting. Holy crap. What is happening? We really are in the ‘upside down’ if yours truly is planning out this far in advance.

But you know what gave it away that I’m still not really in the upside down? The fact that I stayed up until almost 8am this morning, playing a video game throughout the night.

Yes folks, I am an addict to {addict of?} video entertainment, especially [Stars of the Lid’s Ballad of Distances] video games. I feel like such a loser admitting that. I haven’t talked much about my so-called entertainment addiction on this blog. (And am I really addicted to it? I mean…I started playing this particular game because a friend merely mentioned it to me. Yes, then he showed it to me, but it’s like… oh wow, it’s really highly rated game… [SOTL’s Requiem for Dying Mothers] – suddenly I’m $30 bucks out and the next 24 hours are spent bingeing this game. Losing sleep, not eating or drinking anything, not answering calls / texts, and then afterwards feeling majorly depressed and constantly brushing away suggestions of suicide – is that addiction?)

Most every time I go out and meet with people, on the journey back home I think, wow, life isn’t so bad. It – the interaction – was a pretty good time. They seemed to like me. The conversation brought up stuff I was interested in – stuff I had forgotten that I had been interested in, and I think, hey I could do ‘that’. I could get back into ‘that’. And then I start planning out and having visions of my life getting back in shape again. And by the time I get home I’m riding this high of, THIS is the day / week / weekend I turn my life around! And then the moment I walk through the door of my apartment all of that falls away.

What do I want to talk about today?

  • Facing my ‘inner, unavoidable, fundamental monster space’?
  • The power of ‘reward time’?
  • What I offer to the world?
  • The power of just getting the fuck out of your apartment?

Am I valuable?
Am I good?
Do people find me interesting?
Do people think I am intelligent?
Do people like me?
Do…you/I like me?
Do I have something to offer the world that people want to keep coming back to? And is that something I, in turn, enjoy?

Facing my ‘Inner Monster Space’ (DSM-5 approved lingo folks. The DSfuckingM)*

*((sorry** I’m swearing. Don’t know why I’m suddenly self-conscious of swearing. … **Sorry for saying sorry X infinity.))


Here you are internet. My debut as the world’s best goddamn graphic designer / animator. Revel in its glory.

THIS. (or that) THAT is my monster. Or rather the monster in the monster space. Actually, it’s one monster of many monsters. But with one original monster. It’s like Hinduism in a sense – {wtf???} {{Bear with me. You’ll see. You’ll definitely see}}. So you know like in Hinduism there are a bunch of deities which are incarnation of the same deity? Yeah, so that’s what’s going inside of my head, or at least, how I try to understand what’s going on in my head. So for eg, the voice monster that goes like: “You fucking idiot, you’re a failure-loser and you’re always going to fuck everything up for yourself” is really the incarnation of: “I’m scared / confused and don’t know what to do.” …Yeah?


What exactly is the space ‘monster space’? you ask.

It’s the space, not just where you face your fears… it’s the origins of those fears… I dunno – this is just the term I came up with a couple days ago when I was actually an adult for a couple of hours and paid my utility bills.

See…the reason why I binge games and Netflix and YouTube so much is because when I start trying to be an adult… suddenly….



Suddenly there’s scary ass monsters flying everywhere around my head. And it makes everything I attempt to do REALLY HARD and REALLY SLOW. I have to pause literally every 30 seconds to try and focus on the original goal, because somewhere between ‘Open a browser window’ and ‘go to your electric provider website’, the You-are-a-fucking-piece-of-shit Monster decides to show up. Here he is again:

monster talk

Thank you YAFPOS Monster. Thank you. Oh what…it’s 30 minutes later and I haven’t done anything? GREAT.

This is turning into a MUCH longer entry than I thought.

But it is within Monster Space – hey maybe that’s the title of this entry – it is within this mental space where I have to learn to live. I have been trained to live in, or rather, EXPECT, ‘Rainbow Land’ as being the dominant state of my mind, but when Rainbow Land DOESN’T happen*

*which is pretty much all the time / the whole nature of life!!!*

*then I panic and try to escape Monster Space, by trying and recreating RL through video entertainment. And because today’s VE is a pretty sophisticated light show, it succeeds in being incredibly distracting, and my inner scared child goes Kevin style in Home Alone:

“Hey! I’m not afraid anymore!” But really I’m just staring, slack-jawed, at a screen, simulating RL.

My mind looks like this (kind of, more or less):


And I am somewhere standing in the middle.

Ugh, I’ve taken way too long trying to figure out how to make drawings.

The point is… if I want to get my shit together… if I want to stop being so addicted to video games… I have to acknowledge that ‘Monster Space’ is just a part of life. Occasionally the monsters say truly awful things. And sometimes they say tiny stuff. (Like, huh…that person’s voice sounds weird. <-Jackass).

But within Monster Space, there are gems. There are the good voices. The more time I spend in monster space, the better I’ll get at navigating all the different monsters and their tricks, as well as see what’s really going on. (This is all sounding like Inside Out – great movie btw).

But HOW do I stay in monster without having my anxiety SHOOT THROUGH THE ROOF. Because that’s what’s going on. The inner child is freaking out and it feels my body scrintching (<-DSM-5 baby) in stress, and the stressed out inner-parent is like uuuhhhh I KNOW! Here’s a video game! And…..ok here’s a 3 minute YouTube video! And….oh you haven’t watched THIS movie….in a while, so watch it again! Ah, it’s 12am and you need to get up in 5 hours? Does your body feel exhausted? Ok, that’s probably a good time to…WAIT NO WORK TOMORROW???

Hello 8am. Hello bed.


And in the meantime, truly awful things are going on in the world and I am in my own stupid, pathetic drama.

Ok, ok. Pipe down.

  1. The way to stay in monster space (because monster space is really just normal ‘head space’ <- that’s a meditation app. {Wait…is the this very sentence ALSO the name of an app? 😉 😉 omg best joke ever})

SO THE WAY TO STAY IN monster space <- people, THIS is what it is like in my head. Everything is bouncing around all at once and can I just fucking focus on one thing for a bit?

I’ve also happened to catch myself in a goodish mood, also after coffee.

And… I decided to write this blog post and play around with trying to create stick-figure monsters INSTEAD of falling into my usual video entertainment trap.


Just create a ‘reward period’.

Tell myself/yourself that, ok, I am going to have play time at THIS specified time AFTER I have done adult stuff for X amount of time.

I’d like to show a couple extensive hyper realistic flow charts for all this inner programming of my thoughts / behavior:

Current behavior:

flowchart 1

What I’m trying to shift to:

flowchart 2

As I navigated those treacherous 2 hours of my life, whenever I ran into a ‘monster’, I had set out my large notepad, and just wrote whatever ‘it’ was saying down including the time. This was time consuming, yes, and I didn’t get much done, but it somehow…writing it down, and documenting it was helpful. It let me proceed. Often, inside, there is this terror of oblivion. Of struggling, crying, screaming – in silence – and if I write it down…maybe I think, “See, it is real. I am struggling.” Or…maybe it’s me trying to come to grips with the actual fact that time is passing, that it’s a process, etc (hence recording the time).

So this small practice was extremely helpful.

I’m gonna end it here. It feels sudden and abrupt, but I have to go and I’ve spent over 2 hours on this (6:12pm).

In essence, for me, it’s crucial to show my all powerful inner child that, ok, you CAN go to Rainbow Land / video games etc, but do it AFTER you work, and then you won’t feel as much shame and depression later. When the inner child (and the inner parent SEES / know’s there’s a plan.

[Note: Sunday, July 15: I was going to write more and finish this, by I just didn’t get it together. But hey – this whole thing I’m doing right now is about just being consistent and producing SOMETHING. So that’s where I’m at.]

Hope you enjoy.

Discovering a random world cup party in the streets.
Good food.
My cat.
I dunno I want to keep saying friends but I’ve said that a bunch so far, but they are kind of my only lifeline (besides my sibling, who really is my lifeline).

Until next week. MBM

Good job -> good self-worth? Chicken or egg?

I’ve started writing to the sound of Jonsi’s Grow Till Tall for the past two posts. I don’t know why turning this song on assists me with writing, but it feels like an invitation. I’m sure I will tire of it, but everyone should listen to Jonsi every once in a while.

Well here is a milestone – the first time I’ve put out a post in a consecutive week. I have been thinking about writing all week. A good sign? And writing this post is what got me out of bed, somewhat sleep deprived – I went to bed around 3am, got up at 9am with a bit of a hangover and here I am. I even knew I had to write now instead of later because I won’t have time – this is some high level thinking going on for me (slight sarcasm, although it is kind of a biggish deal for me – have to celebrate the small stuff right?)

I hate going onto WordPress. I dread it. I think I dread this feeling of being disappointed? What if no one looked at my post at all? Or worse, what if they did and hated it? I’ve just gotta get over that.

But thank you to the 9 visitors of last week, and an especially big thank you to MovieBabble and definingyellow for the likes.

Eventually I’d like to actually plan out what I am going to write about and maybe center around some kind of topic, but right now, I’m just going to write…now.

Another difficultish week. I have huge issues of self-esteem in connection to what I do for a living. Right now I have a job I thought I would never have. I have two jobs now, one full-time (which is the one I kind of hate). The other is actually kind of a saving grace. That’s the one, even though I only do it about 5 hours per week, is the one people kind of latch onto (if I tell people about my main one at all because I am so embarrassed to, although I am getting more and more bold (and possibly just more curious about reactions) to tell people). I wish I could just tell it on here, and someday I think I will, but right now I am just kind of paranoid.

But when I do finally leave that place – hoohoo boy will there be a post or two. I could do a whole blog about this experience.

So am I taking steps to leave this job if it is “the source” of my shame? Kind of, not really. Any kind of activity where I could be rejected or possibly fail gives me incredible anxiety, and then I just participate in some kind of distraction. Is writing just a distraction? Yes, but at least… I dunno… it certainly feels different than watching endless YouTube videos until I have to haphazardly rush to get ready for said terrible job, taking a shower while trying to making a hand brew coffee, and then, once on the road, cursing myself and my life, trying to find a satisfactory existential answer to how I and everything in this world came to be this way both from a theist and atheist perspective. That goes on for the next 8.5 hours, give or take a bit of a podcast here or there.

Job. Self-worth. What you do with your life. Self esteem. Hey stranger friend of my friend Mary-Sue, nice to meet you. Oh you’re a graphic designer? An engineer? In med school? Cool. This is what I do for a living. Cheers. What are you drinking? Oh, by the way, I’m stuck in a holding pattern of blaming my poor life decisions on my  upbringing / life circumstances instead of trying to take some responsibility and just getting myself where I want to be. Want to dance?

Ah but it’s the other way around dummy. Good self-worth is what brings a good job. Right, I forgot it was that simple.

What is a “good job”? What is self worth?

And why not just get a fucking better job? Why do I feel so stuck?

Every time I bring myself to try and update my resume, write a cover letter, or apply to a job I hit a wall. My anxiety overflows.

I have been putting around the idea of living on my own in another country. The only way I could do that is by teaching English. That doesn’t sound too terrible (teaching English), but I’ve never done it. And the real terror is, would I fall apart, feeling truly alone, unable to meet with the few friends I have, or would I feel energized? I traveled abroad alone – a first for me – a few months ago and it was incredible. I’ve never been truly on my own before. I’ve always been surrounded by people, and especially growing up, by those who were always telling me to do things instead of developing my own imitative and interests.

Good self-worth -> Good job?

Address anxiety and low self-worth -> ability to apply to job -> good job

Address anxiety. Hey that’s a good name for a blog. You know, because ‘address’ can mean two different things? And it’s got the alliteration thing going for it? I could go further.

SOC (stream of consciousness time). Read at your own peril or just skip.

Low self-worth. I am not worthy. I don’t deserve attention. I can only get attention if I am accomplished. If I can tell Mary-Sue’s accomplished friend that I, too, am accomplished. Otherwise I get a, huh, you’re not interesting – next. You’re not interesting. What is interesting? You hold my attention and interest. What you DO holds my attention and interest. Why? The ability for fame / money? Job X has the potential for money / fame – that’s why engineer is more interesting than non-engineer. Your personality is not enough. Your character is not enough. Your interests are not enough. It’s what you do with your life. If you don’t do X, then what are you? Shame. Worthlessness. Can’t sell myself.

I was talking with a friend last night and I divulged to him that the only thing I really want is for my father to want to have a conversation with me. My fantasy is for my father to call me and ask if I want to have a drink, and then we go and talk, and he just listens to me while I talk about stuff, stupid or no. This is one of the fundamental forces that drives my sense of worthlessness. Good job = good attention from others = good attention from my father and maybe he would have stayed. I was too fucking boring and that’s why.

UGH. Here I am stumbling along. My thoughts are a messish, but I don’t care. I care about output / habit developing right now. Right now this is pretty unpolished stuff, but I’m doing the output. My goal is 1/week, every Sunday I guess. Maybe if I had several categories or pages within my blog my entries could be a little more focused (eg. the page that deals with anxiety / self worth, the page that deals with my thoughts on politics – oh god – the page where I share some fiction writing – double oh god. And I don’t know why I share the stream of conscious stuff, or why I feel like I have to regurgitate and document EVERY thought I have right at that moment – the half scientist / psychologist in me thinks if I reveal some of the inner workings, I’ll see more of the source, and be better able to help myself. I don’t know.

Curry powder – makes everything tastes better.
Random deep conversations with friends.
An old friend calling out of the blue.

Thanks for reading.

Hope your next week goes well. MBM

Weekly entry

Sunday, July 1, 2018 8:58 PM

Feeling worthless again. Has been a very hard couple weeks.

Why does life feel like this constant struggle?

Sitting in my car before going back into my apartment and for a second I got a feeling about what it might be like to just feel at peace with life.

It was gone as so as I entered into my apartment. I have a roommate that I am close with, but they are often out, and when I enter alone, a wave of depression hits me.

But then again, when I’m alone and being productive and my roommate returns, suddenly I can’t focus as well anymore.

Does anyone experience this as well? Specifically the wave of depression upon entering back into your home? Sometimes I hate returning to my apartment. Why? I hate being alone? There are many times where I love being alone. But… I am definitely looking for a partner. Or at least I want a partner.

Gah I’m struggling to write, now, but I need to just keep writing. I want to find my voice. Eventually the idea is that I’ll stop apologizing for my writing and my feelings and settle into a sense of identity.

And that’s just it – so many successful people have this solid, stable sense of identity – of how they act around people, of what they do for a living, of what they do in their free time, of what they are working toward in life.

I don’t have any of that – the stability that is. I am always wondering about how I should act, what I should do. Maybe I am not so alone in this. Maybe I’m just jealous of those who have always known what they’ve wanted to do, or at least have stable careers, incomes, parents.

Ok I know I’m in complaining mode now, but I don’t care. I have this compulsion to just regurgitate whatever I’m feeling. We are in FMV mode – find my voice mode – right now. I do want to become a better writer. Best way to do that is to write. A number of people have told me to tell my story, and that I have a lot to say [eye roll] … [eye roll at the eye roll]. I’d like to do that. I would.

Do I want “fame” or anonymity? I think a lot of us have craved fame, but it comes at such a big cost of privacy. I want to be able to just explore and observe the world without wondering when I am going to be interrupted next.

Write and read. That’s what I need to do. Feels like there’s no time for any of it. That I’m just stuck in my terrible job. But hey, I’m writing here now instead of watching some mind-numbing thing on YouTube or playing a videogame.

Hate myself. But I don’t. Ugh. I feel like I have the beginning stages of schizophrenia sometimes. I hear my thoughts way too clearly, all the time.

I could rename this blog “cringeworthy”. Uggghhhh. There is nobility in the effort though. When will I be able to point to something and say, “Yes! That – that is not cringeworthy – that is worth sharing”? I don’t know. Why do I share these stream of conscious rants? Because I need a witness to my life. Some kind of witness. Maybe it’s related to the biological urge to reproduce / create and pass of genes / information – is the urge to reproduce in its essence DNAs “desire” for immortality? It knows that its host will eventually die and that it must survive somehow? Is me writing this and sending it off some form of wanting to be immortal? To somehow survive my death, regardless of how? Or is it just for attention (which could be argued is also related to reproduction?).

I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.

My goal is to try and get a post out at least every 2 weeks. Maybe eventually 1/week. I want to develop a habit of writing / publishing. And I do feel slightly better.

Recapping my last post, there was no engagement, ha, but that’s ok. The post was all over the place. I’m resigned to the fact that for the next few posts (and who knows, maybe this entire blog) will simply be an awkward cringeish stream of conscious that I will never read again and hope someone burns after I die.

Just one human trying to survive. Just trying to find a sense of peace and purpose. I find glimpses – not everything is doom and gloom. Some good things:

Free outdoor concerts | finishing a section of a language program | icepops on a hot summer day | running into friends | clean laundry | good coffee | a small bit of activism | family

Ok, until next time. MBM

Is the world doomed or can we save it?

6/18/2018 6:52:57 PM


[Grow Till Tall -Jónsi]

Taking another crack at this.

I enjoy writing, but I feel like it can be missing a lot. I wish I could add pictures, illustration, video, music.

Have lots of feelings and ideas, and writing / reading can only do so much.

I have a few personal projects. What kind of personal projects are you all trying to accomplish?

Being better about practicing an instrument or a language or cooking?

Getting a degree?

Raising a kid / family?

I am trying to love myself and my life more. For a long time, I have been in a dark place. Have felt very alone at times.

At the core of it though is a sense of worthlessness. That I have nothing of value to bring to the table. Which means, if I ever do become a subject of conversation for whatever reason, I’ll be met with pity, derision, bafflement, or perhaps the worst – complete disinterest. For whatever reason… I am hard-wired to think about how I will present myself to others. Or how I will fit in with others. I can’t seem to stop thinking about how other people will think about me.

[Hengilás -Jónsi]

While I know I ‘shouldn’t’ care about this, I do. This is part of who I am – wondering about what others are thinking. Wondering how every little action, word, expression, reaction, nonaction is being interpreted, if at all, and why. How are all these reactions changing my relationship with the current person I am talking to, if at all? It’s like I am constantly aware of the relationship and watching a constantly progressing line graph – with every good joke or interaction I make, the line rises. With every bad, the line falls.

So rather than berating myself for caring about what others think so much – as yes, I am working on developing my own sense of self regard – that is absolutely priceless and indispensable, but for me to have the goal of stopping carry what others think about entirely or even to a tiny fraction of my day is just not worth my energy right now. What is worth my energy is figuring out how to channel this proclivity.

[Festival -Sigur Rós]

I love discussion. I am bad at it, haha. But I love it. I love analyzing discussions and seeing the flow of logic. Again – I think I am bad at it. I am an ok writer. Not great. I tend to ramble. My thoughts are scattered. I hate being critiqued. But… like before, I can’t seem to stop thinking about discussions and the flow of energy, logic. Has someone been persuaded? Is there merit to what is being said? What drives someone to stick their neck out there and state an opinion or reaction anyway?

Maybe (more rambling) I just enjoy collaboration?

I want to collaborate and explore topics together.

One thing I love are book clubs – even though I’ve only discussed one book in a book club in my adult life, not including college. The process of picking things apart. Seeing the merit. Giving others the benefit of the doubt that their perspective is valid. Seeking understanding and learning instead of bristling at different viewpoints. Respectful dialogue.

Where am I going with all of this?

[Youth – Daughter]

  • How do we love ourselves in the face of feeling absolutely worthless? Why do we feel worthless in the first place?
  • What are some holistic approaches to addressing the different kinds of depression / social isolation / addiction that draws upon the best research? What are some of the cause of these?
  • How do we make the world better? (with the implied question of – the world is in need of betterment / how is the world need of betterment?

These are the questions I’m thinking about right now – I welcome dialogue and your own questions. Maybe we can try and explore this together so we are not so alone with our questions and feelings.

And sure… I could start a discussion club with real live people… in some ways I am already taking steps toward that because of a new group I am beginning to dabble in.

[Ether -We Are All Astronauts]

But writing is also a creative and expressive process. I enjoy the aloneness of writing, but also the wonderment of… who else is watching / feeling this (feeling my same feelings, asking my same questions) from across the gulf of time and space / the internet?

Critical me: “You know, I bet what you just wrote has been written a million times on a blog. Aka, you’re unoriginal. No one is going to want to read this. People will have seen this a million times before. Aka don’t publish this. You also haven’t edited it at all. Aka it’s bad. Just don’t do this. Don’t do this.

Response: Yeah… some of what you say may be right. But… I know you’re also coming from a place of fear / protection – you just don’t want me to be hurt. What’s the worst that can happen? I get a bunch of comments criticizing me? Ok. Say it happens. Was it worth it? I enjoyed this process. I am curious about exploring this process more. I am curious about the equation of:

I put time / effort into expressing myself in some way -> I put it out there as a question to begin a dialogue / collaboration with others -> I wait and see the results.

[M83 – Un Nouveau Soleil (audio)]

At least I tried something?

And the theories of probability / physics know I’ve been trying for a really long time. At least I’ve got that – my heart is in the right place, even if it is blindfolded in a dark room, bumping into wall to wall, making more trouble for itself.

Will I just make more trouble for myself? Eh.

Let’s just take a dive. At least I’ll say I tried. The point is that I’m trying to be true to who I am:

I need to express, question, wonder. I am fascinated by what others think. I want to make the world a better place. I want to help others who are going through similar feelings of worthlessness, isolation, despair. I want to grapple with the many social / economic / political / religious / environmental issues. Is there a way to save the world, or is the world doomed?

I guess let’s start with that:

Is there a way to save the world or is the world doomed?

I would love to hear from you in the comments and start a discussion. Feel free to comment on anything else you found interesting in this post. Thanks for reading.

Best wishes going forward and until next time.


6/18/2018 7:30:49 PM

Things are moving

Music: Dark Beyond the Blue, Hammock / Kids, The New Division / Requiem for Dying Mothers, Stars of the Lid

It’s 4am.

Should be asleep.

Feeling good.

For once?


Things are moving in a good direction.

Things are moving.

Things. are. moving.

And that’s good.

I am falling in love with life. Not just positivity. But with all its imperfection. With all its hope. With its struggle.

I don’t do enough.

I want to be good.

I want to do.

I want to produce.

I want to see results.

I want to look back upon.

Gratitude: Friends, Korean / Asian style karaoke, a new relationship – is this love? seeing an Instagram profile of 6 years of life and being inspired by someone who lives, and who must live for others.

Emotions come and go. Excitement comes and goes.

That’s all ok.

I have dreams.

All I have to do, all we have to do is not waste time.

Not. Waste. Time.

How do we not waste time?

Why do we waste time?

Because we are trying to escape the moment. We don’t value the moment. Beholding life, beholding the moment is scary. So we opt for the easy.

What’s the difference between needed rest and distraction, and wasting time? I think it varies from person to person, and moment to moment.

I want to make future me proud.

But now me is already proud.

Sad…regretful…but also proud.




Developing self-compassion. Self-love. Being able to be embarrassed at myself, but also make myself laugh and be proud of myself at the same time.

Real representation – getting the most popular, and the best ideas represented. Making it so that your vote does count.

He’s sitting on one side of the room, and his destiny is on the other side. The room is large. It’s filled with people. They are dancing in slo-mo. So many distractions. But he’s been to this party before. He’s been there many times. Now he’s curious about the door on the other side.

Beauty in the desire. Such beauty in the desire.

The voices of self-hate are slowly quieting. The feelings of capability, of independence, of autonomy and wanting to pursue my deep desire, instead of someone else’s, or get someone else’s attention are waning. Not caring about what other people think about so much.

All I want for

Writing for ½ an hour. I can do that.

Who wants to read the ramblings of a stranger?

Ok, maybe I do. Depending on what they’re talking about.

Loneliness. Isolation. Individualism. Collectivism. Our current dystopian world. Hope?

The body.


Entertainment Addiction.

Attention Disorder.

What am I?

What are we?

Codes of DNA encased in a flesh shell. All that DNA wants to do is survive and replicate.

Is that all we are?

I am a recovering theist atheist. So for those of you hoping to find solidarity in faith or the beyond will not find it here.

You will find someone who struggles with:

loneliness and isolation

being overwhelmed by politics, wanting to do something, thinking if we got together things would change, feeling like it’s all hopeless

trying to adapt with a mind brought up to think in black and white, positivity, afterlife, everything has a reason that clashes with how things really are

still thinks there’s hope and it’s worth fighting for

Existentialism feels more real to me every day.

But E is nothing more than socially programmed humans who have a surplus of time living isolated, individualistic lives:

What do I do with my free time?

The culture of individualism is a culture of isolation / living alone – which leads to stress – which leads to addictions of all kinds – which leads to more isolation and feelings of powerlessness – and this cycle is how we’re pushed more and more out of power / how more and more voting rights are demolished.

One merger after another. We’re definitely heading towards the BnL Wall-E future. Maybe we’re in it already.

How do we escape?

Is it through intentional communities and cohousing? Is that the crux of all this? Shifting the culture of individualism aka isolationism to ‘cohousing-ism’?

The very thought of sharing my personal space with others makes me want to crawl into a hole.

“I’d go crazy” I think.

But I’m going crazy now.

That’s why I’m sitting on the floor of a darkened room with the glow of a computer screen as the only form of illumination. This urge to EXPRESS…this urge to express ME… to cry out…. am I… REALLY alone as I feel?

Seeing words materialize on a blank white canvass feels…comforting. So the very act of typing feels nice. I’m able to shape and create SOMETHING.

So why publish it then?

I am lonely and so are you.

I…. want it to stop and so do you.

I think.

The world as it could be. The world as it could be.

I was born into an environment that shaped me into an idealist.

Phenomenon after phenomenon.

Is there ‘a god’. Are we here for a conscious purpose?

While I ask these questions, I could be helping someone fleeing a country or someone who is starving. But I have the privilege of existentiality. The horror of the mind and the modern age of surplus time and isolation.

Existentiality is beautiful, but not at the price of inaction.

I know I am grossly misusing the term in a strict, academic philosophical sense.

“Existence precedes essence”

But as I lay on my death bed in 5, 10, 20, 50 years from now – at least I did SOMETHING.

I felt lonely. I moved my fingers. I pushed a button. And other people can see it. Hey, I feel that way, too.

Pointless. Hopeful. Maybe it’s a way out of my crippling escapist behaviors. It’s definitely an EB in itself. But at least it’s better time spent then watching another half hour of pornography or the next show on Netflix. It’s better than just being in a reverie of thought-mulling, a trance of rumination, where thirty minutes has passed and I’ve just been sitting on my bed, half aware of what I’m thinking and half not.

I struggle with this process of sticking my neck out. Of now being open to criticism.

You’re a fucking dumbass.

You’re a shitty writer.

Go kill yourself.

How EMBARRASSING. I feel so goddamn embarrassed for you, you fucking loser. You fucking piece of shit loser. Jesus fucking Christ you are a lost cause. You’ve wasted your life and now this? And now this?

Why in the absolute fuck are you putting yourself through more pain?

The pain of exposure.

The shifting judging eyes.

The flying thoughts of judgment like thousands of tiny daggers. The frown. The squint. The click. The turn. The forgetting.

Am I just attention crazed?

Yes. Yes I am. I am in desperate need of attention and that’s why I’m writing and posting on the internet because I have no friends.

(Well, I do have friends, but… I crave community. I crave community. And I crave a life worth living. I crave meaningful work. I crave doing something instead of caving into paralysis in the face of a dystopian society.) Boy, we’ve been fucking dystopian for a LONG ass time. Where the fuck have you been?

Grandpa, what did you do with your life?

Well imaginary grandchild, not fucking much. I did however, once or twice, be in just the right mood to right an existential, rambling blog post.

What I want: a variety of intentional communities (rural to urban) that shifts culture from individualism and isolation and addiction to healthy minded, diverse, and connected individuals who are aware of and participate in the political process, decentralizing power and resources, to create a stable, sustainable union with the planet and each other.

I want to love myself and have the courage to say what I want in front of others, and face the fear of criticism and backlash. I want to believe in myself. I want to believe in the goodness of humanity. I want to believe in hope and give hope a try.

That’s all I want.

An evening of coping with anxiety, despair, and depression

Phase 1 – Denial. Rushing around. Doing things. Doing your job. Going on a run.

Phase 2 – Shit hits the fan with no escape. God no this is real. This is happening. No, no, no, no. Not this. A thousand nos. Sitting on your floor with racing thoughts. Could I turn to this person? This person? That person? Him? Her? Them? No…no…no…no. Alone. I am alone and I … this is all fucked up. I’m fucked up.

Phase 3 – Brief wonder about what my preferred method would be.

Phase 4 – In the shitstorm of despair that is my mind, there are flashes of the ideal group of friends. Flashes of the ideal mentor. Flashes of being loved by my own self. A smile. A denial. At first I feel completely disconnected to it. I am just observing, pushing away, and then seeing the flash again.

Phase 5 – Flashes / Imagining of the ideal become longer. Maybe there are glimmers of feeling in the body. This is the turning point. The internal screams become softer.

Phase 6 – Feel my body again. Feel my aloneness. But I am surviving. Despite my situation, my body doesn’t care – it wants food. I am alone, but I can take care of myself. [Pause for a moment to see my privileges – I have shelter, food, access to a shower, able-bodied. The crises are all internal. No less agonizing, but it could be much worse.]. Get up and take a shower.

Phase 7 – Amidst fits of crying, ups and downs, then sitting on the floor of the bathtub as water spills over me, looking up at the spout, feeling the moment. The warmth. The water. My body. A breath. All these sensations. I am alone, but I am not dead, and I am in company with sensation and breath.

Phase 8 – New ideas. Introspection. A kind of calm. The anxiety, fear, and pain are still there, but they are now shadows. I see the reflection of their eyes, and maybe a silhouette or two, as they wait in the darkness at the edge of the light of the fire. What is the fire? Is it hope?

Do animals have hope? Is that how they fight against depression? Are animals existential? Rhetorical questions?

A message to anyone reading this struggling with despair / loneliness: I am sorry. I am so sorry. It fucking sucks. It feels like the worst thing in the world. I wish I could take your pain away. Things that have / are helping me:

  • Therapy (this develops the ability to comfort, see, accept, and understand yourself when you are alone. I think there comes a time when even your therapist is not able to give you the kind of seeing/understanding you need. But when you have developed critical introspection tools, there is an ability to stand beside yourself, even in really dark times.
  • Exercise (I think a lot of anxiety is partly the built-up unused and excess energy of the body due to a sedentary lifestyle. There’s also a lot of science to back up the health / mental health benefits of exercise
  • Music, shower, writing, breathing, hugging yourself – anything that creates a kind of positing stimulation to begin to anchor you to the moment
  • Imagination: visualization of the ideal of whatever you need being there right with you. Make sure it’s a need and not just a craving / want. What do you desperately need right now? What would it feel like to have that right now? Feel it.
  • Recommended music:
    • Against the Sky -Harold Budd & Brian Eno
    • Even if You’re Never Awake -Stars of the Lid



Good luck friend.

Days 4-7 Recap / 170718 Tuesday – Day 8

Brief, several day recap. I begin to develop a kind of daily checklist.

Sometimes I find it difficult to concentrate and remember: ok, what is this blog about again? I want it to be so many things.

I find that, occasionally (maybe even often) writing in this stream-of-conscious way tends to stir up my inner anxiety/despair/self-criticism. Why is that?

I want this to be some kind of record (for science??) about documenting the attempt of a 30-something white male to end an addiction to pornography, video entertainment, procrastination, excuses, avoidance, and a child/follower bear-no-responsibility mind-set over the course of a year.

But, a key step of recovery, I think, is replacing those activities with something that’s positive and something that develops and manifests the core of who I am, so wouldn’t this blog also need to include what I am doing, and not just what I have avoided doing?

Because, I’d like to think I am not just my addiction, even though whenever I think about who I am, that’s often what I think about.

We are a mix of desirable and undesirable qualities, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Sure, if I could press a button and be perfect, I’m not sure what would stop me from pressing it. But what does that even mean, and is it even categorically possibly? What is ‘perfection’? And if I never made mistakes, I would lose something quintessential to myself. Would I even be able to recognize myself? Would I actually be conscious? Or just some kind of automaton? Is a fundamental part about being human the process of holding space for your imperfection and fallibility? The understanding that at this very moment, because of my lack of knowledge of the future and all options, I am on course to my next mistake, my next thousand mistakes, and eventually, my death.

I think I am going to develop a kind of checklist. I’m not sure if I will complete it daily, or if I will do a kind of review at the end of each week.

Work in progress:


  • Pornography? Yes, 1x, yesterday (Sun)
  • Video games? No
  • YouTube? Yes, in the presence of my partner.
  • Unstructured news browsing? Yes
  • Unstructured general browsing? Yes
  • TV/Movies? Yes, but with another human being
  • Maintaining clean apt? No
  • Sleep for at least 7 hour? No
  • Career/Passion work?
  • Misc/daily chore/task work?
  • Eating well?
  • Exercise?
  • Physical affection? (Hugs, cuddling, sex)
  • Feeling the inner parent?
  • Social interaction?
  • Introspection?

Frustrated by/ Needs work:

Grateful for:

I can feel how this blog can become an avoidance mechanism (and it has been that occasionally). I still am figuring out how to establish a balance.

One of my biggest challenges is simply maintaining some sort of basic schedule and plan for the day. 98% of my life has been becoming absorbed by some activity until an external force pulls me out of it.

170714 Friday – Day 4

Even with small success, I remind myself I have a problem, and explore what this blog is about. A stream-of-conscious prompt at the end.

Sleep: <7 hours

I am feeling a classic pattern of:

“Whoa! I’m free! Psh, I’m not an addict, I’m fine! This is easy. Wow, I wonder what it must be like to not have control.”

When can I say, “I’m no longer an addict”? Definitely not after 3 days.

And is a ‘true addict’ only someone who cannot recover unless they move / are moved into some kind of controlled living environment where they are monitored constantly?

Regardless, I have a problem. A problem that, while I hasn’t wrecked total havoc on my life, it has ‘delayed’ it (at least I feel like my life’s been delayed), and has made day-to-day living a roller coaster of emotions. I don’t like thinking ‘I have a problem’. I don’t want to think there’s nothing wrong with me.

But I’m three years behind in taxes. I don’t have healthcare. I’ve deeply struggled with relationships. Having crippling anxiety. Etc, etc. Sure, some of that is structural issues with society itself (isn’t everything?), but I have to believe I’d be a little farther along if I hadn’t chosen to play at least 8-15 hours of video games every weekend or losing 1-2 hours of sleep to watch pornography almost every night for years and years. Sure, there were periods when I didn’t touch video games. There were times – not usually more than a week – where I was responsible. But these have been far and few between.

The two edge sword of this blog process for me is that, while I am processing my feelings, and while I feeling a greater sense of feeling accountable to myself, and to the people who read this, I am feeling the nagging feeling that I may begin to use writing as a way to escape my daily responsibilities. And I suddenly just realized that I am on unstructured time right now.

Ok, just created a small schedule.

As I was saying, that this process can do the opposite effect of being present with myself and with my surroundings, and instead, delve into what ifs and stir up latent anxiety.

I pause.

And hear

the silence

of where I am.

I play ‘Dark Beyond the Blue’ by Hammock on repeat.

Silence is fresh. Silence is sharp.

And it’s not that there is no sound. I hear cars. I hear others talking. I see movement. But it is all movement that is happening now. Not the rushed cavorting about that happens with avatars and distorted time frames of movies and shows.

An unbroken stream of time, real-time.

I notice I am breathing.

This person comes. That person leaves.

The clouds are moving. Can I see them move?


What is the end goal of all of this?

This is a blog not just about reporting back on withdrawal symptoms and how bad pornography and entertainment addiction is.

This must include the journey of facing all the feelings I am trying to get away from. Of letting Shame and Self-Hate speak, and then reminding it of my other parts. Of seeing how anxiety makes my skin crawl as though I’m covered by thousands of ants.

And it must include the journey of fostering the inner parent, which, I believe is the most important part of all.

Does all life derive from some kind of deep sense or hope of importance, attention, and love?

My inner parent doesn’t know all. But they are calm.

S(HE feels some fear and confusion too. But she is confident in my being. That, she does not second guess.

I…but…here. ah, shh, it’s ok. just take a breath, in, in, and hold, and let out. relax the shoulders. I mess up so much. I mess up so much. I mess up so much. why… why am i….looks down, ashamed. hey, hey, look at me. what do you think I think. tears. a small smile. but… so troubled. yes…but not just troubled, right? no, true. and breathe…feel it in your belly…push it out if you need to….feel it in your chest…relax that jaw, and those cheeks. and now the water works. I am an infant crying. I want to be held. but no one is there. it’s dark? I curl my fists. it’s hard to breathe. I writhe. all muscles contract. am I on a table? want to scream.

It’s about living well in the time that we have. And I have some time today. Small steps. Small moves. I bring the inner wounded along.

We are all walking wounded, as my therapist used to say. Does knowing that it make me feel better? Is it actually true?

How do we all become unwounded?