in the middle of the ocean

I was writing my novel and I put in a metaphor involving the ocean. (Specifically, it was going off the "no man is an island" saying and suggesting that maybe people are islands, albeit islands that drift through the oceans and occasionally bump into each other, like people interacting with one another.)

I delved into that metaphor and had the narrator imagine if it were literal because that's the kind of thing he'd do and I figured it'd be a good metaphor to explore. And then I was suddenly struck with the realization that it would be absolutely terrifying to be in the middle of the open sea. Like that's what I thought of, being underwater in the middle of the ocean. I mean imagine you were underwater and could still breathe or something but you were in the literal middle of the ocean, like you couldn't see the surface or the bottom and you were just in the middle of that vast expanse of water that covers most of the globe.

This is the stuff that gave me nightmares as a kid and gives me nightmares sometimes now.

Compliments

I just realized that one of the biggest compliments I can pay something (a book, a movie, etc.) Is, "That messed me up."

Like when I say that something "messed me up", what I mean is that it made me feel a profound degree of surprise or confusion or amazement or fear that I am not used to feeling. Like it was very affecting. Which makes sense but it's still kind of strange.

I wonder if there's any noticeably percentage of people who think "messed-up" is a compliment or if it's just me.

Some acceptances.

I have some good news. I currently have two pieces of work forthcoming this year. One of them ("Belief in a Sky", a poem) is set to appear in Leaves of Ink (an online publication with a really neat name) on October 17, and the other ("Those with Faith, Their Reward (A Triptych)", a flash fiction piece) is going to be in Smashed Cat Magazine (another online publication with a really neat name) on December 12.

Rest assured I will post links to both upon their publication. For now, I'm just going to revel in the subsequent excitement and feelings of success, which is what I imagine most people would do if they were in my shoes.

I'm happy for my endeavors and to whoever's reading this, I wish you the best in your endeavors, too.

I write science fiction

I write science fiction because that's the only genre where "people like me" are portrayed positively.

And when I say "people like me", I mean "individuals who feel removed from humanity and everything that 'humanity' entails". It's usually because they're literal aliens and I'm only a metaphorical alien but I can relate to their situation.

And in science fiction, they're portrayed positively. Humans like me in fiction tend to be treated very negatively. Albert Camus's The Stranger. Hannibal Lecter. That kind of thing.

I guess it's a form of keeping my sanity. Because if I tried to venture into types of writing where the only people who reminded me of myself for meaningful reasons get labelled as sociopaths, it would mess me up even more than I'm already messed up.

metaphorical band-aids

Submitting poems and fiction has become a bit of a painful process nowadays. I think it's because I've done so many submissions that I'm beginning to fear literally running out of places to which to submit. The fear of having no choice but submitting to the sorts of places to which I was told not to submit (i.e. little-known online publications that don't pay) is becoming a very real and legitimate thing. I really don't have anything against little-known online publications that don't pay but during my training at art school for creative writing...well, I was advised against sending to such places and the idea's sort of become ingrained into me. Fighting that is difficult and it's not very fun.

It's become like pulling off a band-aid. We all know what that's like, we all know that metaphor. Needing to do something quick and painful for your own good and if you prolong the process for too long, it just becomes painful but you can do it with minimal pain if you brace yourself enough and are willing to accept it as a necessary but temporary pain.

I hate writing those submission e-mails and getting half the cover letter written but being afraid of formatting the document how they want it or choosing which version of my authors' bio to use and so I leave it for a bit to go make some tea or do some entirely unnecessary cleaning or play something on the piano that I've played at least a hundred times before or lay on the floor and talk to more light fixtures. But this is what we call "procrastination", and it only makes the process of pulling off the metaphorical band-aid harder.

I think a lot of things for me are like pulling off a band-aid. But sending my writing to other people especially so.

I pulled off a metaphorical band-aid yesterday and I've just pulled off another metaphorical band-aid today. I intend to pull off more.

More light fixtures.

So you know how I have a habit of lying on the floor and ranting at light fixtures?

I went into a room, lay down, looked up at the ceiling and saw no light fixtures. I ranted anyway despite my disappointment; it was one of my generic "what is life what am I doing what is the unfairness and horror of existence why am I dissatisfied with everything what do people even think they're doing why are humans even a thing what is this planet" things, with the added question of "why must I be in a room with no light fixtures". Because it's just not the same without light fixtures.

Well, I left the room, and when I came back, I promptly lay down in another part of the room

and I looked up

and there was a light fixture

and I just let out this constant stream of joyous laughter because yes there is a light fixture here, I can finally rant at an actual light fixture.

I just ranted in joy and there was a huge smile on my face as I just lay there and looked at the light fixture.

It's amazing what can bring happiness to certain people.

Zahnpaste

Yesterday, I taught a worker at Target the German word for "toothpaste".

I was there with my aunt and we were looking for toothpaste and I said something to her, just off-hand and conversationally, about how I like the German word for toothpaste. I said it aloud. It's "Zahnpaste". Said like "TSAHN-pasta". I then spelled it for him (because he asked) and then explained some things about how certain letters are pronounced in German.

His co-worker then came over, having heard what was going on, and the guy and I explained the thing to him. The guy who had initiated all this said, "I think I'm going to remember this for the rest of my life."

It's things like this that keep me going in life. Little opportunities like getting to teach the guy who works at Target the German word for "toothpaste".