I gave up a while ago in the best way possible. I gave up on trying to be something I am not, in a lot of ways. This is a random example, but, for a long time, people always told me to change my hairstyle (and before you imagine it as some funky mohawk or something, it’s just that I have a very generic haircut), and, well, I know myself: I don’t do well with maintaining complex hairstyles. I have on two occasions attempted to wear some expensive haircut and then let it fall apart in days—because applying copious amounts of jell and parting it “just so” is not something I care about. Continue reading
Tag Archives: personal
Ten Pounds Of Terror
Had to leave town because of Hurricane Irma. Could not cook my own food in Chicago. Then, came back and discovered the loveliness of eggnog martinis and double espressos lattes.
But, turns out, coffee, all coffee, even just a little of the stuff, burns my stomach.
But, yeah, quitting it is difficult. So, that’s fun. Caffeine, you’re a cruel monster.
Then, after learning white wine is gross, and so are mimosas, and they give me cottonmouth, I caught what appeared to be the plague. A lot of Florida, and possibly more of the country, got this super nasty bug, and, for a little while, I did not feel like eating anything other than liquid.
So, I got good at protein shakes. Like, I made some mean drinks—if I may toot my own horn on my own blog.
But, after all that, after I came back to coffee after quitting and discovered I like cappuccinos more than even lattes: I had a horrible reality check.
I’d gained ten pounds. Continue reading
Year Two Christmas Collection #12: Most Personal Article! “I Was Fat”
(Originally posted July 19th, 2017.)
For a good part of my life, I weighed close to 300 pounds. I’m talking when I was a teenager. At the ages when such a thing, regardless of what’s taught and preached, easily marks you.
It got me scorn. Some people, people I didn’t even know, looked at me like I was fucking scum. I’m fortunate enough to know a lot of nice and kind people who didn’t—but yeah, still years of glares and critical eyes. Continue reading
Thoughts From A Serial Carpooler
Cars are not my thing; I don’t drive. Somehow, someway, through a combination of money, massive texting bouts, and the kindness of complete strangers and close friends alike, I’ve traveled in my twenty-two years to some interesting places almost entirely without touching a steering wheel.
Now, this is not to say I don’t wish to drive, but, circumstances too complicated and personal to go into now prevents me from doing so. Which means, for the time being, I am a rider—I am a person in shotgun or the backseat. Continue reading
I Was Fat
For a good part of my life, I weighed close to 300 pounds. I’m talking when I was a teenager. At the ages when such a thing, regardless of what’s taught and preached, easily marks you.
It got me scorn. Some people, people I didn’t even know, looked at me like I was fucking scum. I’m fortunate enough to know a lot of nice and kind people who didn’t—but yeah, still years of glares and critical eyes. Continue reading
An Introvert Artist’s Attempt At Being More Open With His Audience
Here’s my problem: I’m scared to be more personal. But, like any relationship, like any friendship, you must be open with people—or you will not get anywhere. And, being open, means being open to the possibility of pain. You can’t be emotionally hurt by people if you are not exposed enough to be loved.
And, well, blogging is not unlike that. I am, right now, doing what I am comfortable with. Sharing what of me I feel I can. And sending it out there for people to see.
But, with that said, I’m not super comfortable with this social media world we live in right now. I don’t mind sharing in person. I’m an open individual generally—were we to talk face-to-face—but I also know what a danger the internet can be. Continue reading
WHO AM I?! Well, Let Me Tell You.
Hey, so, you are reading this? I mean, cool. Hi. But, like, I mean, how’s it going? I have a page that’s about me—but that’s not a blog post. So—yeah, here’s this too. I’m writing it a little more like how I speak when I am in person.
As you can see, it’s a little meandering. Yet clipped. Sometimes. I talk fast, but occasionally I must stop to think through the next like two things I will say. I’m good at anticipating broad reactions to things in people. If I get to know you. But, terrible at the small stuff. I’ve lost all concept of what is and is not too dark a joke for people. I can freak people out sometimes.
But, like, I’m a writer, you know, so I’m allowed to be a bit weird. But, again, “Hi!” Let me tell you about me. In a more personal way. Continue reading
Tell A Story Brandon, Dammit!
It’s hard for me to tell a simple story. Goes against all of what I like about media. I love the intricacies of a complex narrative. For a story to be engaging to me, at least on a level which makes me openly happy, I need my brain tied up in knots trying to work things out—to piece together the parts. This doesn’t mean I like confusing stories, but it does mean I’m drawn to multi-layered ones. Stories with startling turns, with underlying concepts, with social and political commentary, and creative symbolism, and this…this is a problem. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Across A Year
I have no idea if the weight of two people on the hood of a car is good for it. But I don’t care. It holds us up in more than one way.
I stare out at them, the stars, and I think a lot of things. I’m told that’s a pretentious thing to say. I’m told we live in a world full of clichés and platitudes. And yet, like so many before me, I like looking at them, and wondering.
“You’re thinking again,” she says, and I like to hear that voice of hers.
I like to look at her too, even if it’s only this time for a brief sidelong glance. Continue reading
Stuff I Will Not Shut Up About
If you ever met me in person, you would know that I am fond of long conversations about various topics. And if you brought up any of these topics, minutes may turn to hours.
Everybody needs to have things they are passionate about, so here’s a list of some of mine.
Gen Urobuchi!
Who’s my favorite writer of all time? Tough question. Who’s my favorite Japanese writer? No question. It’s Gen Urobuchi. Nicknamed the “Urobutcher” for his nihilistic, dark, and shocking creations, he’s a massive inspiration for the kinds of stories I like to write. Continue reading
Coolerbs Writes 