Beautiful Sunday

  Today is a better day. I don’t feel as miserable or as hopeless. I don’t have as many depressive episodes lately, which is of course a massive improvement. When I do have them, they’re pretty bad. I cry, I self-deprecate, I judge myself harshly, but once it passes and I can see clearly I feel better. Cleansed almost. Not in some hippy dippy way, but it’s unarguable that an emotional and mental disposal is often necessary to get through to the other side. And that’s okay. It’s actually really healthy.

  It’s weird. When I’m in it and I can’t see properly in the dark, I want anything else to be happening at all. But once it’s over I feel better. Usually in the morning after a really deep, long sleep. I often don’t think about it at all. Only now that I’m reflecting on my last one am I actually thinking about it. My head feels fogged. I know what caused it, but it seems so silly and insignificant now.

  For what it’s worth, I’m in a good place right now. How long will it last? I don’t know. But right now, everything is okay.

Signed,

Elijah.

Meta Sentience.

16/02/2020

Happy Valentines Day

  I don’t know what to title this, so. It’s not like it matters anyway. This place has just become a dumping ground for my feelings where they’re mostly safe from prying eyes. Nobody visits here anyway, so there’ll be no intruders. It’s just you and I for now.

  I don’t know what it is lately, but I feel alone. Isolated even when there’s somebody in the flat with me. All I have to do in the daytime is scroll social media, and in hindsight that makes me feel worse. I get to see all the fun things my friends are doing with their friends, posting all their fun times together but never when I’m involved. I post a lot about other people, but nobody ever posts about me. It doesn’t matter. I mean, it’s pretty irrelevant but it’s just funny to me how everybody gets mentioned here and there except me. Is there something wrong with me? Don’t I deserve the same attention everyone else gets? Jesus, what’s wrong with me. I just wish I could answer that question.

  I’m miserable. All the time. There’s nothing to do and when I’m unoccupied, it’s the worst. It hurts. If I had the guts, maybe I wouldn’t be here. I’m not suicidal, but sometimes it feels like things would be better if I wasn’t around. I wouldn’t hurt anymore. Nobody would have to bother thinking about me anymore. The people that are already in the process of forgetting me could do so guilt free. Because I know that’s what they’re doing, subconsciously or not, so many people I know just don’t feel the need to get in touch anymore.

  There must be something wrong with me. There has to be. But what? Do I radiate some kind of... I don’t know, unrelenting stench of fucking foulness that people just can’t bring themselves to continue being around me? I don’t want this anymore. I want anything else but this. I feel so empty, so sad, so upset, so angry, so frustrated. Nobody thinks about me and I’m sick of thinking about them. Always having to be the one that reaches out. What about me? What about when I need someone to reach out.

  I  want to cry. I need to cry. But I can’t. It just won’t come. I’ve spent so much time crying over people that don’t give a shit about me, and here I am still repeating the same process. How do I break the cycle? By not getting attached. That’s done me a world of good so far, so I need to keep that up. Stop getting attached to stupid, worthless people that have no use to me.

  I’m just sick of it. Sick of it all.

Signed,

Elijah.

Meta Sentience.

14/02/2020

Hello

  I wrote a post not too long back, (around September time... so I guess it was a long time ago. Oh well), basically saying what had happened between me and a now ex-friend, but in the end I didn’t post it. Maybe I will sometime. It’s still in my drafts. It’s not that I was afraid to post it, or that I even forgot, I just couldn’t see the point. It was just a tonne of vented anger at a situation that wasn’t going to change. I have foresight now, but even then I knew that he wasn’t coming back.

  Fucking Road Man.

  I just hate being treated like I don’t matter. And it seems like everyone that gets their mitts on me, figuratively, manages it. And then when they have, they always go on about how they didn’t mean to fuck me up, how they didn’t see things how I’m being made to see them, and continue the fucking behaviour anyway. At the end of the day, people are fucked and you’re best off staying away from as many as you can. Don’t trust people easily, there’s no point. None at all. You don’t owe shit to anyone but yourself.

  Anyways, I got the app for this blog so now maybe I’ll post more often. I say that a lot, though, so I’ll try to show rather than tell.

Signed,

Elijah.

Meta Sentience.

11/02/2020

...

Hello, I Must Be

Some people really struggle to accept help. I know that because I am one of those people, whether I would like to admit it or not.

People often think they need to be the pillars for other people; the one-man, monolithic support system that never breaks down. But the reality is that's just not sustainable.

It's okay to need people. And it's okay to not want to admit you need people. But sometimes it can pay to take that step, as difficult as it may feel.

I'm only just learning this myself, and I took the hard route. It's okay to do things in your own time and at your own comfort rate.

---

This post was written entirely using code, so maybe I'll start posting more again because I'm having fun with it. Maybe I'll start a new blog entirely.

I've kind of wanted to for a while, but I've also had reservations about the idea.

We'll see.

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
31/07/2019

This is a lot of effort for a line of text.

Boredom makes you do questionable things.

Andrew Neiman and Terence Fletcher: A Whiplash Dynamic

  In a 2014 interview with Whiplash's director Damian Chazelle, he chose to use the following phrasing to describe the protagonist and antagonist of his Oscar award-winning film; "In a weird way, this movie is a love story between these two people. It's a very twisted, sick love story but it does operate in that way in a sense. It hinges on their relationship and the ups and downs of that relationship. So you had to have a duo that you wanted to watch and see together, and the movie had to hum when they were together."

  One thing I can say without a doubt is that the relationship I see on-screen every time I watch Whiplash is electric. It is so possible to see the power within these two characters, almost literally, and the ensuing struggle for that power as Andrew Neiman becomes more confident and one with himself. With that growing credence comes Terence Fletcher's glib attitude. He needs to keep Andrew in his place in a way that will push but not hinder him, and in the same vein, he needs to be the most difficult barrier Andrew will ever face. If he can overcome each challenge set by his music teacher, he can do anything. And Fletcher really believes that.

  From the very first moment Andrew and Fletcher interact with one another, there is chemistry. Mutual fascination is coursing through their veins and visible from outside their tough, Mythril-like skin. I genuinely can't tell whether it's due to the talented actors, (big up Miles Teller and J. K. Simmons), or if the characters are just that well developed so early on. Andrew is fearful of this man, with his short fuse and his monolithic reputation. He knows exactly who the conductor is, and has probably heard bits and pieces of gossip around Shaffer Conservatory from Fletcher's terror-stricken students. But upon their first meeting, Andrew can't confirm whether or not any of it is true or exaggerated. What can be observed, however, is Andrew's immediate need to please and Fletcher's dominance in response to that. Their roles within the relationship are established as soon as the film opens.

  As the film begins to open up to its audience and allow us in, we see more of the world surrounding these two people. A bustling music school housing some of the most talented artists in the country. So begs the question, out of everyone Fletcher could choose and despite his already thriving, high-level studio band, why bother with a freshman like Andrew Neiman? Why disrupt his band? Why make moves to replace his already talented and capable core drummer Carl Tanner? Why tip that balance? Of course, the answer is simple. It's Fletcher's way of exacting control over the people that respect him the most. What more frightening and embarrassing to an aspiring musician than to be kicked out of the most successful band in the entire conservatory? The students know for a fact that no one is safe, and through that knowledge, they will work harder and play better than even they thought possible. That is Fletcher's goal. To push people beyond what is expected of them.

  We know for a fact that the music teacher is doing his job correctly, or at least what he thinks his job should entail, because his presence demands the attention of the room. With one wave of his hand or clench of his fist, the band stops. Silence. And then a long, disappointed sigh. He goes through the rigmarole of terrorizing his band members via the accusation of one of his players being out of tune. A trombone player, Metz, is intimidated, humiliated and then let go of the band. Once he leaves the room, Fletcher smiles and informs the rest of the band that Metz wasn't out of tune, but he didn't know and in Fletcher's eyes that was worse. Any other teacher would've sought the out-of-tune player to offer assistance, and it's details like this that clearly outline what the movie wants us to see in its characters. This particularly shows Fletcher's lack of patience. There's no room for mistakes in his studio band. 

  In the following sequence, Andrew falls victim to Fletcher's wrath and is made a laughing stock. He messes up the set and the teacher makes sure everyone knows, as he did with Metz. This shows the audience that there are no shortcuts, no matter who you are. Even if the teacher has some kind of piqued interest or sees some potential in a player, it doesn't mean they will get off easy. Mentally torturing Andrew like this even though it's his first day allows the audience to see that the conductor is consistent in his demeanour and willingness to punish, and to push until breaking point. This continues throughout until Andrew gets into a car accident and has a mental breakdown, rugby tackling Fletcher. They are both kicked from Shaffer and part ways until the closing scenes.

The power that Fletcher holds over Andrew forces him to change in quick succession. The nineteen-year-old goes from regular movie nights with his dad and pining for a pretty small-town girl to spending all his time alone in the practice room honing his craft. He becomes a machine without even really taking a moment to think about what it was doing to him or the people in his life. In a way, this shows us how weak of character Andrew Neiman really is due to how willing he is to throw his personal life away. But it also demonstrates the sheer drive he possesses when it comes to getting what he wants. This tells us a lot about him in a really clever, contrasting way.

  I think for Terence Fletcher, the end goal was to find somebody who was pliable enough that he could knead and mould them into greatness, whether they realised and appreciated his efforts or not - If you can call hurling chairs and verbal abuse at his students 'efforts'. He wanted his very own Charlie Parker and he found that in Andrew Neiman. In the final arc of Whiplash, we find that Andrew has become nothing more than a shell capable of showcasing his earned talent on command. This is especially apparent in the closing shots of the film. Unfortunately, with that in mind, as Andrew dons all black for the final show we can see he's lost any trace of humanity that was left. Any want for a nice life and a pretty girlfriend is maliciously beaten down and the desperation for Fletcher's approval and validation, as well as the need to be remembered as, "one of the greats," is raging within him. He is proud but exhausted, and every bit of it is down to his tyrannical music teacher.

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
05/2019

Bloodied Glass Bottle

  I don’t know what this is going to be, but nothing conducive no doubt. You see, I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Like a bad kid. A son who is much to be desired. I could be so much better and yet... I’m not. Sometimes it’s like I don’t even try. I haven’t seen my mum in weeks because I’m spreading myself so thin between everybody else. Just had a bit of a cry about that actually but I’d never admit that to anyone in person. I don’t cry on people. Three years with my boyfriend and he’s never seen me cry. It’s an ugly affair that nobody should be subjected to. No one needs to see that. The snotty nose. The pot-head pink eyes that make people think you smoke heavy on the doobies. I’ve never smoked in my life but boy have I cried. It’s weird, actually. I cry all the time, just not in front of other people. I’m a very emotional, needy, grumpy person. 50% anger, 50% tears. That’s a good tagline actually. Sums me up perfectly. Fifty Percent Tears. New rap name, perhaps? Let me know what you think. I’d love some feedback on that. See, my problem is that I’m shit at communication. I’m the personification of Donald Trump and the Russian Collusion. Nobody knows who the fuck did what or why, but everyone knows something happened. I can vent my feelings but not directly to a living, breathing human being. It has always led to upset, from being very small up to being a twenty two year old man. (That’s now, by the way). It has always been easier to keep everything inside, bottled up. Then one day the bottle smashes, I have a little mental breakdown and end up gluing all the bloodied glass back together again. That’s me. I’m a bloodied, infected glass bottle that is barely translucent anymore and absolutely coated in disgusting, sticky, claret adhesive. I’m stuck on somebody’s top shelf because I’m impossible to polish up but they can’t bear to throw me out for some reason. Anyway, I told you I had no idea what this would be. Make your life what it needs to be for you to get by.

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
21/5/2019