Being single is the easiest it has ever been nowadays.
You no longer have to go to a bar and strike a conversation with your sexual preference and maybe take them on a date or maybe take them home for one night. Dating apps have revolutionized how we interact in a romantic sense. Being a newly single male and living in the biggest college town in Arkansas has proven to indeed be pretty easy. When I re -downloaded tinder (yes re-downloaded), I knew what I was getting into. I have met my past two girlfriends on tinder and they both went well (until they didn't). But that is irrelevant I was a new man and I wanted to see what the app was capable of. So I set up my tinder with my best photos from photo shoots, when I was in a couple fashion shows and some funny one to show my character. My bio was simple but witty and I was proud of it. Then I started swiping left and right. I like her eyes. Right. I wanna pet her dog. Right. She's taller than me?! Left. After a week of intensive swiping I began to realize what Tinder was really capable of. It gave me and ANYBODY who uses it the opportunity to play god. I mean you create an idolized version of yourself. Your best photos and your funniest pickup line. This is in no way the true version of you but hey as long as you get a match, who really cares? But then you get to swiping. Left and right and left and right. Ultimately deciding who is worthy of you literally with the flick of your finger. And if you happen to match, you can talk to them and figure out if you want to continue on. You can simply remove them if you don't like how they use "your" instead of "you're". But is this moral? That is up to you reader to figure out. Do you like hooking up with someone because of how they look and the short conversation you had? Are they worthy of your time? Does your tinder profile really show off who you are? People love pretending to be something they are not because it is convenient and relieves stress. But once you delete the app, who are you? Yourself.
0 Comments
The other day I looked in the mirror in disgust because once again my hair had gotten too long.
I always wait for the last second to cut my hair and today was no exception. I immediately booked an appointment at my usual salon where they do cheap and very nice haircuts. I had a new hairdresser today because of my procrastination but I trusted the business and knew my haircut was pretty stock. Basically every white guy has it. This woman greeted me with a smile and handshake. I saw down and we started talking about everything. Movies, my life, her life and all sorts of stuff. Turning strangers into acquaintances is such a good feeling. But then she said the words, "that man was as happy as a pig in mud." And i thought to myself about how funny that is. Now southern sayings like this aren't by any means common but I hear one every 2-3 months and I love it. It is so charming and pure to hear sayings like these. Just funny little phrases passed down probably from parents or grandparents. It's the little things like that, that brighten my day. When I was a sophomore in college I was in a weird state of mind. I wanted to explore and try new things but I was confined by my full time student and part time work schedule. I wanted to go out and do something, but I just did not have the time.
One day me and my roommate were playing madden in my dorm (I don't enjoy sports usually but I love playing sports video games.) We were joking as we usually do when he mentioned an amateur boxing match coming up. It was called Toughman and it was for anyone and everyone. I laughed at the thought of me fighting a big redneck for fun. Then he mentioned how there are weight classes and even a cash prize. Okay, you sparked my interest. I jokingly said I would do it, we both laughed as he probably scored another touchdown on me. "You would probably do well if we started training." I let this questions marinate for a little, until I agreed I would do it. I mean this stepping way out of my comfort zone, I had never threw a punch or been hit by one either. I knew my mom was not going to be happy though. We decided to start training during Christmas break and the fight was set for March. That gave us roughly three months to turn me from zero to hero. I bought my mouthguard and drove over to his home gym to start training. Luckily he had a spare size 10.5 boxing shoe for me. I laced them up and we began working. At first we really focused on technique of my feet and shape so that I could move efficiently but effectively. I was very bad at this, my punches were weak and I would stumble all over myself. I looked like I didn't know what I was doing, because I didn't. After about a month and a half we got to sparring. My roommate went light on me, occasionally going all in to scare me. Landing a punch on my head knowing me around. Often times I bled from my mouth or nose, and it hurt. It hurt really bad. Sometimes I would even cry because it hurt so bad. Behind teary eyes I would throw punches, knowing that if I gave up it would be in the end. I could not stop in the ring, or else it would be over. Finally it was the week up to the fight. I was faster, stronger, and braver than I had ever been before. Of course I was an anxious mess, although my muscles could take a hit my brain could not. I could not sleep the night before and my stomach was churning all day. Finally it was time for the fight. I was the first one of the night and I was very nervous. They announced my name and I went in the ring. The next 10 minutes are kind of a blur. All I remember is pure adrenaline and anger. Which led me to win. I could hear my mom the whole time screaming my name. She had to have three shots of fireball to be able to watch it, she hated what I was doing. After the fight, I felt good. Until the adrenaline wore off. I started to feel dizzy and I stopped sweating. Right when I was about to pass out, I called my roommate. He came to my aid and soon I was hooked up to 2 IVS. The pumped cold fluid into my veins till my vision was no longer black. I was so nervous I neglected to drink water. This led to me being disqualified from the competition and my boxing career to always be 1-0-0, undefeated. So what did I learn? Drink water all the time. Also, the body will give up on you way after your mind. Your body is a tough structure and will take and give punches until it can't anymore. But the brain will go very quickly if you let it. I learned to defend myself. I was always small and picked on and was always afraid of getting into a fight. I feel that now I can handle myself and anyone that I am responsible for. Did it hurt? Oh yeah it did. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. "Nothing great in the world has ever been accomplished without passion." -Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel
Passion is a wonderful thing. It is a driving force for dreams and is usually the reasons they become reality. Passion is created when hours are put in and you become intermingled with whatever your passion is. When something becomes a part of you whether it be an activity, a relationship, really anything. It becomes part of your social identity. Which eventually may lead to it being a part of how you view yourself. For example, my passion is snare drumming. I love putting on a drum and performing for thousands of people. I picked up drums in 7th grade and I have not really stopped since. So 7 years of constants drumming, I would say I have put in a good 1000-5000 of practice with the drums. And it became apart of me, I was the "drummer" and I liked that. When I started auditioning for bigger groups, it became apparent that I was not as good as I previously thought. I was cut from groups for 4 years and it hurt. It made me feel hollow and not good enough. But I knew the end goal and I pushed until I finally made one. I was able to do it for two years and I loved it. But then came this year, my final year. You can only do Drum Corp until the age of 21, so this year mattered a lot. I tried out at a high placing group, and did not make it. I tried for another, and also did not make it. So here I am. Once again, alone and feeling invaluable. But why is that? Why do I feel so terrible? My passion has begun to destroy me. It felt like the hours I have clocked in were for nothing, that I was nothing. I connected my self worth to my ability to tap drum sticks on a drum head. It sound silly, but it is the truth. My identity was the drummer and I now knew that I would never live up to the expectations others had for me. But then I sat down and thought about these feelings. Tried to find some lesson out of it. The inner dialog hurt me, but I knew it was not unique to me. Plenty of people have felt this way before and have made it through. This is what I came up with. A toxic relationship whether it be a person, an activity, or some object is not who you are. You are more than what others see you as. Often times, you are worth more than you think you are capable of. If you constantly compare your skills to others, you will always be dissatisfied. I hate to say it, but someone will always be better than you. It sucks. But you can only be the best you. SUPER CORNY? Ya. SUPER TRUE? Also ya. Passion is great as long as it does not tear down the others parts of you. Destructive passion is like a fungus, spreading to other parts. If you are not careful, it can take over. I wouldn't consider myself wise or really even knowledgeable about a lot of things. I would say I have lived lot of life and learned a lot in my short 20 years.
I was born in El Paso, Texas where I stayed there for 12 years. Growing up in a predominately Hispanic culture immersed me with experiences that a lot of people don't have. Sure some people called me "white boy" and "gringo," but I did not understand the social implications of the words. Moving to Arkansas changed a lot in my mind and how I view others, but I still try to stay in touch with my El Paso friends and family. Moving to Arkansas was in no way my first choice. I would visit there every other summer because my moms family lived there, and that was great. I thought my mom hated me and just wanted to rip me away from my friends. It was not till I was a senior in high school that I really realized the reason. When I was 18 months old, my father went on a business trip and never came back. He was killed in a drunken accident that left my mom a widow alone with 2 children. This experience dramatically changed how I have grown up and how I view myself. Moving into Arkansas at such a transitional age was pretty tough. I had no friends and suddenly was forced into a completely different world. I persevered and found my love of drums when the school year started. This one little decision threw me into an activity that would play a major role in shaping who I am. In high school band was my life. My high school was among the top 100 marching bands in America, so we practiced 4 days a week for about 3 hours a day. After practice I would go home, eat, do my homework, then I would start practicing again. Eventually I was able to become section leader and lead the drumline into it's 8th consecutive year of winning state. When college started I knew what I wanted to do, make documentaries. I knew I loved film but I was very unsure about journalism. After some consideration I started my journalism classes, and loved it. I knew I was happy and content with my choice. During the summers I would compete in Drum Corp International, a non-profit competitive marching society basically. I spend my whole summer traveling around America playing shows and competing against other groups. This activity was strenuous, sometimes practicing 12 hours day in 114 degree weather. This activity advanced my work ethic and pushed my body to things I thought I could never do. Now I am focusing full time on my career and boy am I nervous about it. I know I can and will be successful in my field, it all depends on if people can see my drive and hunger for storytelling. So tell me. Can you see it? |
AuthorMy opinions and experiences written on a public forum. ArchivesCategories |