Writer’s Block. Also, a bio/rant about myself.

For a person such as myself, it happens all the time, even when I'm not suffering it. Sometimes, I wish I could write better than I do. Sometimes, I feel like I'm always just baby steps from creating a product of an acceptable level of quality or even from actually becoming noticed.

I first started writing when I was a preteen, and it was mostly a bunch of really bad fan fiction made solely for the purpose of creating a world with miniscule beings I get to control and stomp on if my heart so desired, like a sandbox of the imagination, the characters being my ants and my keyboard serving as the magnifying glass to mangle them into squirming, fiery crumbs of flesh, because writing was easier for me than drawing, and still is. I call myself a bad drawer probably because I can't draw super accurate realistic humans as some of the really good artists can, but then again, I did not choose the life of a painter or drawer, but of a writer, and I paint with words rather than a brush.

As I grew older, I learned that bringing life to stories consists of more than names and dialogue. It's like explaining how to brush your teeth and why it's important, so I'm not going to write what I learned. Rather, I write this because I wanted to give you, the readers, who hopefully don't only consist of myself, an idea of how I started writing, and what my goals are, which are to have my work noticed somehow, and to perhaps meet people I have things in common with. The current town I live in is peaceful and nice, but there aren't very many people I have much in common with, as it mostly consists of tourists and families and elderly couples, with brandless restaurants and shops aside from Starbucks to (on occassion) meet people I have a connection with, as well as maybe pet a few dogs. Aside from that, the town doesn't have many people to meet and nothing to do that doesn't cost money unless it's going on a bike ride, which also gets quickly boring with such a narrow path and little to see other than rich houses that are bigger than yours with a water slide or two attached there.

The town outside is the exact opposite: A large ghetto full of billboards and commercialisms with more people that range from somewhat likable to douchebag overload.

There really is no middle ground between these two. No location with people I can relate to who like the same things I do, such as gaming (no, games like Call of Duty and FIFA don't count. Those are just gaming white noise) or biking or movies or anything else I can come up with by the time I hit 'Publish'. Maybe I could meet a woman at some point who I will eventually start dating, since I have been looking for a girlfriend since my last breakup back in 2013. It's been so long that I feel that I'm being punished by karmic forces for making the conscious decision to break it off with her and I having little to nothing in common, her getting herself in trouble so much (please don't ask) that I felt more like I was still single than in a relationship. Don't talk to me about dating sites, because no dating site in the history of planet Earth has ever actually worked out for me. Not eHarmony, not PlentyoFish, not Tagged, not Tindr, not Tumblr, none of those, so please do not suggest a dating site in the comments. It would be more polite and less ignorant to go up to a paraplegic and telling them, "Why not take the stairs?".

Since then, I have found myself with more of a bitter outlook on life, only posting inspiring quotes and idealisms about life and the future because I want to save others from having the mentality that I'm pretty much stuck with for the rest of my life, so that they can all become more successful than I could ever dream or think of becoming, because, as a whole, my life and existence are just one big joke.

People I talk to and the friends that I actually do have say I'm a funny guy, which is, thankfully, my intention. You have no idea how much of a relief it feels when you're going off on your sobstory or rant (depends on which side the Misery Coin lands on) as a means to get all the sadness or anger out of your system so it doesn't end up eating you alive, and then finding out that the negativity you just unleashed, rather than spreading on to the people around you, ends up making them laugh instead. It's one of those rare blessings, aside from being able to write and (supposedly) being able to sing and act that I believe that I truly possess. As long as I'm the only person feeling this pain, I'm fine. All I want is for someone or something to prove to me that the world around me, the people I've met in my life, would not end up being happier if I was never concieved. I want to feel that I've made some sort of difference to people's lives, rather than feel good that they are not me, even though it's very clear that there are people with terminal illnesses or those born without arms or limbs or any of their five senses, or living in poverty in third world countries, or serving in the military or police force who are currently being shot at, have taken a bullet, or have to live the rest of their lives, accompanied with the haunting presence of the people at their side who didn't survive one of their battles as they have. Without a doubt, there are people who are far worse off physically, mentally, and/or emotionally than I currently am, and this is the case with other people like myself, who are also dealing with some variation of a quarter-life crisis who feel unfulfilled and unsatisfied with the way their lives are going at present.

But I'm not here to talk about worse problems, but the problem at hand. My dissatisfaction with my finances, my job, my love life (or lack thereof), my social life, and my whole life in general. So far, even though it may not be even the least bit true, I feel like the greatest thing about my past was when I wasn't even born yet. I saw a photograph of my household's family tree that was taken in late 1990. It was made of construction paper, and it featured photos of my parents and my two older brothers, with their names written above each of their respective photos. Then, there was one name in the tree, which was my own. "Deven", and below it was, not a photo, but a big question mark written in marker. When I first saw the photo, my heart felt the mystery and excitement that sigil reflected. What would this future being grow to become, when and if he becomes? What dreams would he pursue? What achievements would he grow to accomplish in life? A myriad of expectations, all bearing the inevitable and profoundly disappointing answers our hearts will inevitably discover sooner or later.

Do I consider myself a comedian? To answer this, I can say that I am not a professional stand-up guy yet, who reaps thousands of dollars just for making fat women on Facebook post "I can relate to this" comments over shared videos recorded of me with borders and laughing emoticons that seem to be there as a means for either instructing brain-dead idiots on how to react to comedy, or for insulting the viewers' intelligence level, or perhaps it's both. Either way, I do not consider myself a comedian because I AM funny, but because I constantly try to be, for the purpose of substituting sadness and anger with laughter for myself and others who may or may not be feeling this way. Also, I do this in the hopes of actually getting women to like me and ignore the fact that I have clearly terrible social skills. I post morbid jokes on a subreddit dedicated to racism and tragic current events to name a few, as well as making random posts on my YouTube channel, one video that recently managed to get over 500K views in less than half a year and made me a hundred bucks off Adsense, which, I can say, is sadly my greatest achievement in recent memory. Aside from that, I'm simply a nobody whose amazing talent would only be successful under very rare circumstances, and who sucks at everything else that a human being should not suck at if they want to survive in this day and age.

Anyway, I'd like to write more on this random little essay I wrote about myself, but it's almost time for me to head off to work. I may or may not add on to this later, depending on its reception. Thanks.