Perspective

This is a thing.

It's a beautiful thing, worthy of your attention, that might do you some good to watch.

So please, take this thing and share it with someone important who might need it

Enjoy it.
Nikola Strange.

Life, the Universe, and Fairy Tales (or "Why I hate debates.")

I recently got really into Douglas Adams and started reading the Hitchhiker's Guide, which quickly became one of my favorite things ever conceived be a human being!

This series was actually one of those I had been meaning to pick up for a really long time but never got around to, and it couldn't have come to be at a better time, since I was going through a bit of a crisis at the time.

An existential crisis.

Try and imagine what it could be like to realize you're pathetically insignificant in the grand scheme of the entire universe which most likely is no scheme at all!

It boggled me and I couldn't focus--I couldn't do anything!

Want a better idea? Danisnotonfire's got a great explanation of the feeling!

Point is, I was hitting an all time low and needed a pick me up, and lo! The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy was waiting for me in movie form. It was exactly what I needed at the time!

After absorbing its story plot and getting to read the novels, including buying the books, I was cured! I felt better right away. I even try and find strength in the fact nothing I do will ever matter in the grand scheme of things.

It makes failure easier to settle with, which is important for me to learn to live with.

There's just one problem.

I now hate arguments.

This wouldn't be a problem if college classes didn't involve so much debating.

And the sad part is, my English teacher told me it's a good thing I learned this lesson now while I'm still a budding adult in legal terms.

Let's think about this one for a second: a high school English teacher of mine once said "I'm not right, I just know I'm not wrong." With this in mind, try and do a legitimate research paper. There's no word count and you love the topic. Just be satisfied with your decision.

I honestly can't do that. There's no such thing as a right answer and if you're open-minded enough, common consensus aside, almost every point can be validated!

Why do we debate? Why do I have to debate? To make more consensuses in the world?

Well I don't feel like it! I just can't muster up the energy necessary to try and shoot down the rest of the world.

We're a marble in the uncharted backwaters or the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the solar system. Don't even begin to try and pit me against the rest of the universe.

CS Lewis once said ". . .someday, you'll be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."
I think this is what he meant.

It's easier to create consensus with good fictional tales based on reality than debating endlessly. And sure, maybe once in a while a silly argument or a fresh debate could be fun to have, but a full-scale mock-congress? Or a mock-trial? Or more research papers?

Jesus Christ no.

I am done with these stupid research papers.

With love
Nick Strange

Change Life

They say one should always be careful when planning a career.

And after all, the future is an uncertain mess made of decisions, possibilities  and the finite human existence.

Then why do we plan?

The answer's pretty simple: for most of us, it's because we're expected to. A lot of us find it's a way to give meaning to existence. I think everyone does it for food to some extent.

But above all, I think it comes down to boredom.

Human society itself--every great creation you've ever seen or heard or loved--comes down to boredom.

Keeping this in mind, surprisingly, makes a lot of decisions easier for me to make. People are bored and devised a system where you have to do things in order to eat, so why not do the things you love if you can?

Why not take a chance and do something you actually enjoy, even if it's not to gain those little bits of paper we trade around for goods and services, and see where it takes you?
This life is an amazingly short one, and you're only going to live it greatly if you roll with it.

Grow.

Explore.
Have fun with yourself!

And whatever you do, don't be afraid to try again when you mess up.

A professor of mine always begins his lectures and tips for art making with the phrase "We don't make mistakes, but if you want to change something. . ."

It's fitting for life, too.

Go change something.

With Love
Nick Strange

Stop trying to "figure it out" already.

Today, I found an image of the original description of the F.R.I.E.N.D.S cast (or what tumblr claimed to be the original description for the cast).

Monica, Rachel, Pheebs, Ross, Joey, and Chandler haven't change much at all from that original description at all, and I love them for it. These characters played a central part in my childhood, and to this day hold a special spot in my heart for it.

What managed to get me thinking was what they were all doing together--they were "all trying to figure it out".

It occurred to me no one I've ever known--even my parents or aunts, grandmother, or great-grand mother (from the stories I've heard), sisters or older friends--have ever really "figured it out". And then I realized how a once solemn, profound and calming phrase was actually really vague.

Does anyone know what "it" actually is?

We can usually assume "it" is another phrase for "life". It's actually a pretty accurate representation. Life is vague. Life is scary and all-encompassing and we have to cope with "it" since there's no getting around existing, less you're dead.

I sincerely hope you're not dead. I love you all.

Unless of course, you're actually a dead ghost reading this over someone's shoulder. In which case, good on you, ghosty! I love you too!

But I digress: "figuring it out" is an impossible task, as tangible as it may seem when you try and think about it. To figure out what life is supposed to be about for you is assuming the purpose is already set before you're even alive. Or that you're going to have things smooth out as soon as you find the one thing you want to do more than anything else with your life.

It implies deliberate planning. It implies smooth choices or smooth endings. Or at the very least that soul-crushing endings cannot occur. That those things happen to other people, but you've got "it" figured out so you're okay, right?

No one has this. No one's got the perfect life, and no one should expect themselves or others to have this wonderful life even a fraction of the time.

Among the glossy autobiographies and True Hollywood stories or even pretty and cutsey Facebook updates, we lose sight of the hard details and life's challenges each and every one of us faces every day.

So if you're scared, or angry, or saddened today, take a deep breath. Relax. You are in very good company. The rest of the world, actually. Eventually, you're gonna be okay.

With Love
Nikola Strange.

I'm in the mood to be a teenager

I'm in the mood for bad indy rock.
I'm in the mood for shitty road trips that sound and feel much better in my memories
Where I didn't know anyone because they were all friends of a friend or an aquaintance.
But were only fun in golden hindsight because we all got lost.

I love being lost.

I'm in the mood for cold food.
Pizza, probably.
Shitty pizza.
And de-fizzed coke.
I'm in the mood for not having any money to get anything better.

I am in the mood for all those things
And good friends made overnight, most of which I'll never see again.
Not in the glorified sense, but in the "Thank the Gods I'll never see these douchebags again! Come on, Drew, we got places to be." kind of way.

And it could only be wonderful because I'm lost.

Maybe the glory only comes in being lost for me. Aimlessly wandering to Gods know where, because I can and because it's fun.

Because I'm free.
Because only then I'll be free.

But I never leave because mother would be angry, she has my passport and I don't have a car.
Plus, if I leave now I'll only be wandering into a country who's language I can barely speak.

How's about that?
Soon I'll run off, though.
"But when?"

Drafts

My drafts build up, in no particular order.

Most of the time they're namless drabbles from one midnight thought-fling.

Other times they're well-orchestrated little things I forgot to publish and have long lost their usefulness or practicality in this little life-blog/diary of mine.

Still, I don't have the heart to deleat it, simply because it's better than memory.

Long after I'm dead, my niece and nephews will find this thing and marvel at how confused and sad their aunt could be. Or how happy.

I like the idea of this thing sticking around for, like, ever and riding out to the death of the internet, a small documentation of my early to late life.

Watch me blossom into something mot to different from what I am now! :DD

It's free, spare the adds I might ad in to buy more art supplies and comic books. . . .eventually.

With Love
Nikola Strange
---------(- u 6)---------
Notes:

Hey! My name's Nick, and it's been a pleasure talking to you!
I hope you enjoyed this blog post as much as I enjoyed making it, ans if you like what I wrote, come back soon!
You can also check out me YouTube channel (same name). :)
Have a nice day! :D

Well. . . . .

My laptop died! A few days back, my baby refused to accept the charger anymore. I like to think she's just in comatose and can hear my weeping howls of pain.

This means I no longer have spellcheck, as I'm stuck using the blogger app on my phone and I no longer have a camera or editing software to make videos. fml.

Now I have to fill this personal diary in! My dear therapist readers,what have ya'll missed? My haircut? My last week of school? My grad night problem? My niece being born?!

Everything and nothing.

With the last day of my "high school career" sliding away as I clack on a touchscreen, I've got nothing left to do but ponder:

Children talk about their future families and plans, pass around their yearbooks and remember what it was like to be younger. We have everything in front of our lives and I wonder what it's gonna be like.

I still entertain the idea of turning into a space bandit or time traveler, silently (not-so-silently to my best friends).

My most realistic goals are renovating an abandoned mansion and/or working for Disney.

Yet "in reality", I'm just deeply afraid of doing nothing worth remembering with my life. Especially now: I am older than Andrew Garfield's Spiderman!

I don't know what's to come, I just don't want to be stuck like this: a kid dreaming about cool stuff they'll get done at some point. To quote the gargoils in Notre Dame, "No one wants to be cooped up here forever".

With Love
Nikola Strange
---------(0.0)---------------------------------
Notes:
Today's Grad Night! :D
Hopefully, I'll have pics up on instagram. . . maybe.

I'd like to thank my wonderful teachers! Even if you think I didn't appreciate, ya'll were great!
I'd also like to thank mom, dad, and my sisters (best friends included, you goofballs). You've supported me through the mood swings, the idiotic tendencies, the mental breakdowns, the . . . .general nicky-ness! I owe you all a big pizza! :D

I'd also like to thank myself. Good for you, not giving up until the last semester. You go, woman-girl-lady!

Waking up in the "Now".

How strange it is, to wake up to a moment in time and feel very different from every other moment for no reason.

Spare one temporary lapse into insanity, I've never seen reality--"the now"--as anything worth paying attention to. In fact, "the now" made me sad.

Today's a little different. Today's a day when every little detail matters. When plans are closer than I could have ever accepted beforehand. When everything matters some--a whole lot more than it did yesterday.

I am alive and have something to do in this life--like making breakfast.

What does that mean? Will it last? Well, I don't know, and probably not, though I'd like it to.
A sweet stage of alertness.

Feeling you exist is a sweetness to crave for.

Lifescout Badges

Taking a bit from one of my favorite people on the internet. . . . ever, Charlie McDonnell and Alex Day, I’ve decided to try and post up a group of little something called “Lifescout Badges”, an idea by Mr. Day, or Nerimon on YouTube, to make Boy or Girlscout badges for things most human beings are generally excited about as a means of motivation!

Here goes, and good luck not falling asleep *wink*:

Learning how to Archery
Most recently I took an Archery class with one of my best friends at our town’s Olympic Training Centers. It was the absolute bomb, and I couldn’t have enjoyed it more. We kept making LOTR and Brave references and took extra delight in making the yellow Thandrul’s face.

Learning to ride a bike
I was about 13 I’ll say when I first learned how to ride a bike (yes, I was old). I took my neighbor’s old rusted bike, about two sizes too big for me, and tried to not crash into cars (a task more daunting than you can believe). I’ve had past horrible experiences with bikes, including ramming into a car right when a group of older boys were walking by. . . . that day was not a nice one. I’m proud I actually got back on the bike after that, though.

Learning to swim
Oh man that was fun! I almost drowned that day, but I managed to “swim” to the deep end of the pool and not die! I can’t remember how old I was, but it’s been a while: during a family vacation (and by this I mean my immediate family plus a boatload of extended family members) to a place called Muleje in Baja California, Mexico, I was the one kid in a group of at least six that could not swim. It was the first thing I sought to learn upon reaching the pool. Though I didn’t win any races that year, I did finally earn passage onto the deep end and that was good enough for me.

Un peu. Je ne parle pas bien le français
(I totally know wtf this means).

Learning a different language
English is not my first language! That’s not an uncommon thing here in the States, actually, especially considering that my hometown’s a massively diverse area. Yet I still hold some pride and resentment towards that five year old whom refused to speak Spanish in school for the entirety of kindergarten just to be able to speak in English with all the other kids in the neighborhood: I learned English via Pokémon and “chick flicks”, yet I wasn’t allowed to take my school’s bilingual classes, thus killing my ability to communicate in Spanish much farther than the average helper in a business setting (believe it or not, it’s not much. It makes me sad.) I’m currently taking French and took three years of Japanese (don’t ask me to speak or type in either please! I’m terrible!)

Look at it! OMG it's got little stubby legs! :D

Holding a snake
One of the first people I ever considered to be a friend was a proud owner of a small snake. She was an absolute beauty we’d take care of together. I really loved it as a kid, and remember it fondly now as a sort of adult.

Having a pet
We have owned a couple dogs at my house! Lots of dogs, actually. I want to try my hand a cat at some point in life, particularly a Munchkin cat named Napolecat (or Gatoleon in Spanish).

We're also called the Urban Knights!
That's a pretty damn awesome name!

Making it into collage
I made it into the Academy of Art University in San Francisco! Sure, that’s not a big deal considering their lack of criteria, but to me it’s an important first step! I wasn’t sure I even really wanted to go to College, despite my AP class credits (I took ‘em for funsies). Finding a passion in animation set things in motion for me, especially when I found out I sort of fit the bill really well for what an animator should be—artistic, creative, attention to detail, history nut, keen on diversity over routine, a bit of a tech nerd. I found something and that’s important to me, less I’d refused to evolve as a person at all.

As proof, here's a busy
Street in SF herself!

Going to San Francisco
I went to San Fran to visit the Collage I wanted to go to, actually, with my best friend (whom will be dorming with me and eventually renting an apartment with me). The city’s a gorgeous place, and definitely earns its’ reputation for being one of the healthiest cities in America—the hills are ridiculous! You cannot afford to eat junk food there, less you’re one of the elite few whom have the luxury of being able to afford the parking meters (and even they looked mad at the prices)! All in all, after you’ve found your way around, it’s a small place, and rather cozy, yet still so much more vast than my own humble hometown.

Moving out of Mom and Dad’s
This one’s a technicality, I think. . . .but I still think it’s an important first step in my life. When I went to San Francisco to visit my collage, I got sick on the last day and got scared. Because of this, I was silently crying on the way back home, and it didn’t help that I had dropped my phone in the car and thus lost communication to the rest of the world (and my parents, more specifically my mother). So, partly for scholarships and partly for my own sake, I moved into my older sister’s house. I set my own alarms, make my own breakfast and dinner, and spend most of my days alone since my sister’s a workaholic. Sure, my mother babysits my nephew and still takes me to school, but I’m removing myself some, which I feel is important for me at the moment.

Going to Disneyland
Who, by God, in all the world doesn’t love Disney, or at the very least didn’t love Disney at some point in their lives? I personally adore it! Every bit of i—well, almost every bit of it. Despite being a national treasure of sorts, I don’t think Disney’s too big to critique, but I digress.  Disneyland’s a wonderful, beautiful place, that in my mind never ceases to be amazing. As children, we’re all tricked to believe it’s this magical kingdom where all dreams come true and no bad things happen. As an older person, I’ve come to appreciate that trick. Bad things happen all the time, but escapism never ceases to refresh the optimistic (and I do this I’m pretty optimistic, for a pessimist).

Going to a party
I’m an antisocial schizoid, so parities are few and far between for me! I’m not proud of the actions displayed by peers whom attend these parties with me (I’m usually the killjoy in the corner, pretending not to know anybody), but in the end it’s sort of lovely to see my friends having fun, even if it’s not the type of fun I would normally have. In all their imperfections, my friends are perfect and I enjoy seeing them like that—natural. A person never looks more beautiful than they do while wearing their everyday expressions and walking in everyday life. I seriously need a stalker camera to catch them in the act of being beautiful.

Going to the Zoo
Zoos!! My hometown has a world-famous zoo, which I’ve visited over the years and still greatly enjoy going to! As of late, I’ve only gone because of my nephews and siblings, but I desperately want to go again to sketch out the animals some. I love sketching out animals, and sometimes googling an image isn’t enough of a challenge! XD

Made the playbill and
drew up costumes. ;)

Going to a school event
Again, I’m a bit of a schizoid so this is a rare activity for me: my best friend was in a play*, which I actually had contributed a lot of my time to, not to mention I knew a lot of people in the play and was close with the teacher, so I was obliged to go. I thoroughly enjoyed it! Seeing those jolly idiots spout Shakespere at each other might be the highlight of my senior year.

Going to Cancun
I got to go on my ninth birthday! My biggest memories were a) extending my birthday to an entire week so I could get cake and “las mananitas” sung to me at every restaurant, b) my cousin and uncle thoroughly annoying my older sister, c) pretending I was old enough to drink with unalchoholic pina coladas, d) meeting a little dude whom looked so much like my father we kept making “long-lost son” jokes, and e) getting a stern talking to by a French lady whom was also staying at our hotel, presumably over how “Madmuaselle” wouldn’t apply to a woman of her age, and how I shouldn’t have been uttering French if I couldn’t speak it!

Badges I still need to earn:

Visit New York
Visit Paris
Visit London
Successfully horseback ride
Hang-glide
Successfully blog
Successfully vlog, at least once in my life
Meet some of my “internet heroes”.
Collage
Finish at least SOME collage and get a job as an animator for a company somewhere in the world
wind up working for Disney or Pixar
Sketch our animals at the zoo
Sketch out people in a natural habitat

*Gotta love the complete contradiction and utter disregard to mental disorders: A schizoid is, in common terms, a loner: they don't have many friends, seemingly have a lack of emotions, and tend to prefer solitary activity. . . . the more ya know! ;)

With love,
Nikola Strange.

A death in the family.

                My grandmother is terminally ill with breast cancer, and although this may be a dreary topic for Valentine’s Day, it seems to be all that’s eating away at my thoughts this week.

                I don’t think I should be posting this, simply because I have this misfortune streak, where whatever I say is both out of line and horribly misunderstood, but I feel like I should post this anyways. It’s a bit of a catharsis, one might say? Either way, I feel like I should get some things off my chest regarding the issue:

                Now my grandmother and I were never particularly close, so I wouldn’t benefit from “I’m sorry” notes, but I still can’t help pondering her death.

                In all honesty I am happy for her.

                That may sound like an odd thing to say in regards to the death of an individual, but I truly am happy for her. She’s made it. This is the final chapter, and she’s made it to the end.

                I might as well express my feelings towards death now, before everyone reading decides I’m a heartless bitch: I prefer to feel a sense of comfort for the end of a life—an end regarding old age, mind you—this person, grays now adorning their tired heads, have lived and experienced life. I like to think—I genuinely hope—they’ve experienced live to its absolute fullest. That they have done everything they would have liked; that they’ve had both pleasant and unpleasant surprises; that they enjoyed living. And that this last chapter is a bit of comfort for them: it’s over. All the bad things one experiences, all the fears: I like to think they evaporate and only the good memories are left. Or if they have no good memories, that they take comfort in the fact the bad things won’t matter anymore.

                I like to think they’re visited by loved ones, if they believe in such a thing. That their souls drift to give little presents to the living, if they believe this is so. That they see their own version of the pearly gates, if that’s what they believe in. My grandmother believed only a finite number of people make it to heaven.

                I genuinely hope she’s on the list.

                My grandfather died a few years ago, and I like to believe they’ll be nagging each other in the heaven they believe in again, grandfather cooking grandmother her meals, despite the pain he felt in his joints, all because of love.

                Grandaddy was a blue eyed devil from Texas whom ran away to Mexico from being drafted to Vietnam. He spoke enough Spanish to survive and hold a job, and was content mining the land alongside his friends, ‘til he met a woman in a laundry mat and fell in love on sight. He nagged her into marriage, despite her many children, and raised them as his own, along with a pair of twins he had with this woman together. His name was Anthony, but everyone called him “Antonio” or “Tony”.

                Grandmother grew to love that “charming” man eventually. He was her second husband, and a much harder worker than her first, a charming musician (another white boy, ginger, green eyes). He put bread on the table. He took care of the kids. He was kind to her (I think. No one has ever said otherwise).

                One day, he let it slip he was from Texas, and she demanded they immigrate to the United States. He received pardon and brought his family over.

They were never saints. They were never the perfect parents. They never treated all their children equally, but grandfather was always a kind man when we visited (of my sisters and I, I visited the least. I still don’t know why). Grandmother was a slightly different story.

                She never loved me, and I can’t blame her. Like I said, I was never there. I was not there enough for her to know me at all, and she was known well for her quick temper. She gave me the time of day, and in retrograde, I’m grateful for that.

                My father is the oldest child of her first marriage. I’ve grown up hearing many stories from his childhood, and the childhoods of his siblings from the first marriage. Some were fun, some not so fun. Despite this, I don’t doubt she loved them. I also don’t doubt they all love her.

                Now, in her final moments, there are tears and quarrels and silence, but above all else, there’s love.

                I’m glad.

                I’m glad they’re all worried over trying to be there during the end. And I’m glad they’re mourning.

                There’s love in that family.

                I don’t think I’m of any use during these last moments, besides maybe a bit of comfort. So I’m not completely sure why I go on the visits to my grandmother’s myself. I’m glad I do, though. I want to be there with everyone else when it happens. I’ll be weeping too, but I’ll be weeping for them: for her children, who loved her so dearly and won’t be seeing her again for quite some time.

                I pity the living the most.

                In the end, I don’t think there’s much I could ever say to my grandmother, spare maybe a “thank you”. Thank you for giving birth to and raising my father. Though you were never the best as far as I can tell from the stories I’ve been told, you must’ve done something right, because I couldn’t ask for a better father.

                “Thank you, and I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for never being there, I guess. I’m sorry for not being what you wanted, if you expected anything of me at all. I’m sorry for not existing (I don’t know what this means yet)? I don’t know what I’m sorry for, but I feel as though I should definitely apologize for something.

“Thank you, and good luck.” I still genuinely want you to see heaven.

“Thank you, and goodbye.”

  [edit] She just pasted on.

Nikola Strange.

Testing patience

                 My elder sister was rightly trying my patience today: "How're you going to pay for your dorm and your things if you don't have money? Did you even turn in that application?"

                Truth be told, I didn't. I haven't done a lot of things, and I'm ashamed of that.

                "Take care of your nephew. Improvise!" She was taking care of her bills with the IRS, scratching things off of her daily planner.

I got off of facebook and took the kid outside, who proceeded to ride his bike.

                 I felt disgusted that I haven't given a shit about collage or my future at all! I was so passionate about my future and the great things I’d do—all the wonderful things I’d create.
                The tuition for the Academy of Arts, a for-profit school, was raised by 25 dollars a while back. The cost for this for-profit is staggering, but less expensive than schools like CalArts or California Collage of the Arts, and isn’t being sued like the Art Institute chain is. Not to mention it’s been nationally accredited since the 80’s. Though the school accepts everyone that applies and has no portfolio requirements, I felt so welcomed on my visit to San Francisco. And the animation building itself felt like home! I instantly went looking for work and scholarships and could not find the will to make myself continue. Why was that?

                Why is it that I can never finish anything I start?

                Lauren Faust didn't graduate from CalArts and she's made some of the most incredible cartoons do date! MLP, the Super Best friends forever shorts (I am in love with, btw), she worked on Foster's and Cats don't dance! It's all I've ever wanted in life, but with Disney.

                 Sure, she didn't have a degree, but she's skilled enough to have gotten into CalArts in the first place!

I felt like such a sloth, but why was it that I cared so little about my collage education and life goals so suddenly?

                Soon, I heard another small voice shouting at me "I got a sticker school today, tia!"

                "Oh really?!"

                "Yeah!" He laughed.

                Both of my nephews rode their identical bikes in circles, round and around and around.

         I felt like Houlden Caufield.
With love,

Nikola Strange.