Showing posts with label Autobiographical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Autobiographical. Show all posts

05 December 2008

Re-Post 2: Playing from my Base


13 MARCH 2006

I, it seems, am nigh unable of spontaneous creativity, relationships, or anything else for that matter without something or someone as an anchor. Allow me to explain:

When I first got here to State, I had no friends. This is understandable, as I had just transferred from a different university and was going through the standard "get-acquainted-with-radically-new-environment" stage. But, by the end of my first semester, I still had no friends other than my housemate who was (and is) an old friend from high school who, as luck would have it, doesn't really have any friends here either (his friends are mainly back where we went to high school). So eventually I got on good enough terms with one of my horn section members to hang out with her and her friends, who I am now much better friends with.

It was around then that I realized that I cannot make friends from nothing; I need the security of an established relationship to branch out. My friends at State are through a fellow horn player because I was forced into a situation in which we needed to be friendly. It's not that I don't think that she's awesome or regret being thrown into a forced-friend situation with her, but rather that I would not have ever engaged her otherwise. I came to realize that all of my friends at my high school were from band or through this girl that I was trying to date freshman year. In middle school I became friends with the friends of one of my bandmates. Even in elementary school I was only really aggressive when I needed to be (e.g. kindergarden) and then latched onto a select few people and branched out from there. I even met my fiancee via her being the friend of someone else that I was dating, who I was in a class with.

This peculiar phenomenon has, I've discovered, its roots much deeper in my psyche than just relationships. Whenever I attempt to make an original story it is always a collection of good ideas that never really links up. My ideas for films are so far from presentable that they are almost laughable. When I choose to adapt an existing story, however, I can generate an amazing output, including having a full four hour epic (split into two films, calm yourselves) planned from start to finish. I'm also much better at coaching people artistically than I tend to be at producing. I can give amazing critique that really helps my friends compositions, but when they ask me if they can see what I wrote, I often don't have anything to show them.

I have taken steps to rectify my problem with needing to be...I guess "referential" is the most apt. I am trying to force myself into social situations and to force myself to commit something down to paper in terms of ideas. This blog (no paper per se but the purpose is the same) is one example, as is carrying around a music sketchbook. And recognition is the first step to recovery. I just never realized until a few hours ago that my social problem is also my creativity problem and probably a good amount of other issues as well.

My name is DubTak and I need a strong anchor to achieve spontaneity.
Hello DubTak.

Ta.

Re-Post 1: De-Evolution


09 MARCH 2006


My name is DubTak, and this is tonight's news:

The stigma around amazingly nerdy things has begun to project it's horrid siren's song directly into my brain. A year ago, I wanted as much distance from Dungeons and Dragons and any other RPG without a monitor to stare at. Now I'm actively seeking it out. I always hated how one had to read all 5,017 back issues of a comic to really understand the story. Now I have downloaded almost every old X-men and am (slowly) reading them.

What has happened to my precious desire for social acceptance? Where are the days when I was trying so desperately to fit in, vainly attempting to comprehend a culture to which I always seemed a step behind? I spent the vast majority of my still very short life trying not to be one of "those nerds". I could be a band nerd, but that led into a sophisticated taste in music. I could play video games, but only because they were fun and I never Role Played in any of the online ones. There has always been a wall between me and total nerd-dom, between being socially lagging and socially ostracized. But now, by some strange de-evolution (TITLE OF THE POST) I have torn down that wall, uniting my socially adept West and socially inept East in a glorious victory over the terrors of Communism.

Perhaps it is a desire to gain new experiences. Perhaps I am merely pushing my imagination, a frighteningly seldom used thing in modern American society, to its absolute zenith. I am, as it were, staking my livelihood on that imagination with regards to both musical composition and cinema. It is also possible, though unlikely, that I secretly hate society and wish to throw myself into the deep dark bowels of cultural exile.

But as I sit here, staring at a pile of dice with far too many numbers on them, I ponder what it is that separates me from doing anything. Are my inhibitions wearing away, or am I casting them off in search of new truth? Is this a period of growth, decline, or stagnancy? I have yet to discover the answers to all of these questions, but I can only assume that it is the journey to those answers that will teach me the most.

Hopefully I won't be so serious next time,
DubTak

27 November 2008

Public Lapdance

Let's make a porn.

You and me, right now.

Don't worry, no one's watching. In fact, just relax; let me do all the work.

Trust me.

You like magic? Make you all hot and bothered? I got a magic trick for ya:
I'm gonna be completely naked WHILE KEEPING ALL MY CLOTHES ON.

mmmmhm, I'm gonna make you go crazy, I'm gonna make you sweat, make you scream.

With words.


That's right, this is going to be a text-based porn. Like erotica, you ask? Well......no.
See, erotica is actually pornographic. This is going to be...literary. That's something, right?


Wait wait wait wait wait! Ok, ok, so its not porn. It's more....public nudity. Scratch that, I AM putting in some effort. Let's call it a...public lapdance (TITLE OF THE POST). I get naked, proverbially naked, that is. I dance around a little bit, shake my word junk, strip off some pronouns, shimmey some dangling participles down my predicate, and add far too many commas, parentheticals (but only when they're important), and NEEDLESSLY EMPHASIZED ALL CAPS.

Did you catch that? My shirt, fwip, GONE. I'm all man above the belt, baby. Well...there's chest hair, so that's something. Muscles.....muscles are for losers! Yeah! Only steers and queers have muscles in their upper body....if you have upper-body muscles Santa won't bring you presents (unless you're Jewish, in which case he WILL bring you presents, just to fuck with you). Check out that strange, V-shaped chest hair. Like a wolverine. Like an inverted wolverine without sharp teeth or claws.

Did I mention this'll be the longest striptease you've EVER HAD? Stay tuned....rawr

-DubTak
 
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