I realized a problem with my writing: I’ve reached a soft limit of how I can communicate. There’s a lot to unpack, so let’s analogize with my cheap “pawn shop special” bass: it fulfills all my limited needs when it comes to learning the basics. I can pluck strings and learn chord progression. I don’t mind tuning it whenever I’m serious about playing it. Now if I wanted to play with others or even professionally…
“Thanks for the lesson yesterday afternoon, Hank! I, uhh… have a question for you, if you don’t mind, about…” The recently-hired computer helpdesk technician paused after self-doubt made her realize she’d been rambling. “No worries. Please, feel free to sit down. I’ve got a minute. What’s up?” She looked around, found the guest chair in Hank’s cube, politely sat down, and flipped open her large notepad to a section that had a circle around it.
A new ticket appeared at the top of the ticket system’s list. High priority! “obscura4 down!” The second-level computer repair technician tasked with managing the queue, Sammohini, read through the ticket details. In the private notes, the first-level technician noted “customer says venkat always fixes this. hes out sick. does we need 2 call him?” She assigned the ticket to herself. ‘No one’s here,’ she thought, ‘and Venkat’s out sick, poor guy… let’s find his notes!’
Next stop on a troubleshooting tour: an occasional printer issue with the Oncology backup printer. Even after one of the nurses replaced the toner cartridges, it still would not print. “Hi, I’m Sammohini from IT, here to look at the printer!” She flashed her employee badge and smiled. “Sure… it’s back over here. Follow me.” Sammohini tried to make polite small-talk with the nurse, but it looked like she was too tired to really care.
I realized a problem with myself: I wasn’t writing daily. Even though I was publishing essays daily, there were days I’d only write a few hundred words, so I agreed to dedicate myself to writing at least 500 words daily. If you want to be something, do it daily. This dedication has taken discipline, sacrifice, and stress. There are still days where I don’t write 500 words. Through all that, here are 425 words on what I learned:
Let’s say you’ve got ten minutes to catch the bus, you’re nine minutes away, and the only thing preventing you from achieving that goal is fighting through your self-doubt. Megalobox embodies that spirit! We follow the efforts of underground boxer “Joe” as he becomes inspired to attain his goal of freedom through fighting in premiere boxing tournament Megalonia. Joe’s efforts mirror our own. We also fight self-doubt in attempting the impossible to attain our goals!
Rating: ★★★★★ [5/5]
Spoilers?: Nothing significant (structural commentary)
WANNA SEE HOW CONSUMING MEDIA ABOUT CHARACTERS ATTAINING THEIR GOALS CAN VICARIOUSLY INSPIRED YOU TO ATTAIN YOUR GOALS? CLICK HERE TO KEEP ON READING!
Perfection is the enemy of self-confidence. There is no more prominent a killer of people than their sense of having made an irreversible mistake. Businesses that fail to adapt, because they had once perfected a technique, will surely fail in the future. How do we prevent this? Part of it might be remembering that there is no perfect stick of gum, or perfect angle with which to affix that gum to a charming gum wall!
Growing up, I was most interested in observing the peripheries of things. I explored through the lens of an outsider many fictional videogame worlds to see their hidden nuances. I explored my own imagination to figure out myself and explored reality with equal lenses. I wonder, now that our innocent childhoods are replaced with real life, do we want to explore our realities fully? Do we want to see unedited monuments? What is objective truth?
I’ve been procrastinating on writing “The Story” because I can’t write concisely nuanced enough yet to do it all justice. There’s an early scene codenamed “The Scene” that drives Trishna (right) and family three hours away to collect John (left). “The Scene,” and therefore “The Story,” would fall flat if I wrote it today. I don’t know when, or if, I’ll develop that skill. Loving the time until then is the only way to succeed.
“Is that… vodka?” Why is it weird going to a bar or being in any social gathering and drinking water or any flavored drink that won’t influence your thoughts? Are we so damaged as a society, or insecure as individuals, that we can’t just hang out with new people without getting wasted? We don’t even ask to receive our equivalent ‘drinking age verified’ bracelets. They’re just given to us on presumption. Why oblige alcohol norms?