Where am I going? Wherever the wind takes me.

Blog Post | November 30, 2024

It's been two months since I started my sophomore year of college, and I am tired.

I’m usually done with class before 1 p.m., and I spend about four hours a day rotting in bed, groggy and lethargic. I drag myself into my seat to do my homework or edit a bit of Vaguely Human Figures, but even so, I feel like a puppet held up by skinny little threads. I spend every spare second rolling around on my lofted twin XL, reading on my Kindle or scrolling through Instagram shitposts or playing Candy Crush while I listen to some YouTube video in the background. 

My recent lethargy has been inexplicable. All my life, I’ve prided myself on being enthusiastic and driven, studying for tests weeks in advance and taking on every extra obligation possible. I know that part of me still exists—I still study ahead of time and write every day, but my head and hands feel heavier than they did before. I no longer feel like a ball of explosive energy but a beat-up truck rolling on deflated tires through tumultuous terrain. Some days, I’m too tired to walk three feet outside my dorm to get food. My go-to dinners have been rice and Goldfish. I’ve tried everything Google recommends to cure my tiredness—getting more sleep, eating breakfast, drinking caffeine—but these methods target my exterior behavior and don’t change my mentality. I’m going through the motions. 

It’s just because it’s winter, I tell myself, though I could say that about any season. It’s just a pre-finals week burn-out, even though at the rate at which I’m resting, I shouldn’t be burnt out at all. It seems that whatever current of energy has been lacing my muscles for the last nineteen years finally burnt out, and all that’s left in its place is soupy black battery acid. Thick and slow, dense and cumbersome. 

I feel my hustle mentality dwindling as I surrender to inertia. I’m ashamed to say I run home after class every day just so I can lie down. I don’t go out nearly as much as I did last year. There’s an incessant voice in the back of my head telling me I should do more, that I can do more, that I’m simply being lazy by not maximizing my to-do list. I have dozens of goals, and I do all I can to achieve them, but work done in exhaustion is hardly gratifying. What’s the cure to this? What do I need to do or eat or drink or avoid to stop feeling like a wet bag of flesh dragging itself around campus?

In these trying times, I’ve taken to my imaginary world to keep my head up. For starters, I’m on the final rounds of editing for Vaguely Human Figures (I ordered samples yesterday!). I’m re-writing Project Robot from the summer. I’m also working on a side project that’s completely self-indulgent and unmarketable simply because I like it. I’m writing for a music magazine and working on short stories for a workshop and for my fiction class. I make sure I write at least 500 words a day, even if it’s pure bullshit. Anything that gets the ball rolling is fair game.

I’ve realized that I'm a much better writer now than I ever have been. Though I’ve been writing since I was in elementary school, I’ve never felt like I was “good” at it or that I could write anything worth reading. When my friends read Vaguely Human Figures, their overall positive response truly challenged my low self-esteem and told me that maybe there’s something there that’s special. Just in the last few months, my peers at a writing club told me they liked my story, I was accepted into my school’s magazine, and I was complimented on my article drafts. For the first time in my life, people are liking what I’m writing and telling me that I should be proud. Maybe I do have something special. Maybe my decade of labor has finally started to flower into fruits. I’ve still got a long way to go, and probably around sixty more years to walk that road, but the pieces are beginning to fall into place. I’m beginning to develop a skill. It’s a surreal, almost derealizing experience to watch yourself suck less at something you love to do.

The point of working hard, I’ve realized, is not to be the best at anything or to exhaust yourself. It's not to grind for eight hours a day. The best results are slow to build and even slower to show, but the process that takes you there is what makes life worth living. If I only wrote for the end result, I wouldn’t write at all. There are no cheat codes around labor of love—there’s only the love itself. Even through my burnout and mounting plate of assignments, I’m going to try to pause and tune into my surroundings. My improvement and commitment to creativity are truly what make life shine for me. 

✎ Writing updates

Vaguely Human Figures is on the way! I know I’ve been saying that forever, but by the time this post is up, I’ve probably announced the release date (Feb 28!). I’m terrified for this book to be out because it’s been stewing in my mind since June 2023, and putting it out into the world makes me feel like a mama bird letting go of her baby. I still remember writing the first few sentences in the library near my family’s home in LA and the many mental breakdowns I had while going through 9 drafts. I’m still making final edits before the release date, but the heavy lifting has been done. I’m a perfectionist, but knowing when to say “fuck it, we ball” and just publish the damn thing is a skill on its own. 

As for the other novel I’m rewriting (called Project Robot for now), I'm THRILLED to be pursuing it. It’s the kind of book where I re-read my draft before going to bed every night just to remind myself that yes, I did THAT. Project Robot is the first long piece I’ve written where I feel good about it from the start and have hope in who I’m becoming. I don’t like to share information about my works in progress, but it’s basically a very weird, very experimental novel with eight big-ass chapters narrated by different characters who explore themes of misery, self-erasure, and privilege. It’s inspired by Less Than Zero and Black Mirror. I have big dreams for this project, and I don’t care if it takes one or ten years for them to come true—I know everything will happen in due time. 

I also plan to start submitting to literary magazines in the coming year. I saw a Tumblr post where someone was striving to get a certain number of rejections because rejections are a metric of how hard you’ve worked and how courageous you've been. Thus, I’m striving for 10 rejections in 2025. 

✎ Media I'm enjoying

Y’all already know what time it is—media obsessions and random thoughts to close out my blog post!

Brace yourselves, because this one is super fun and sexy.

Books I’ve read recently:

I’ve read 15 books since my last blog post in late August, so I’ll just mention my top 5:

• Joan Didion - The Year of Magical Thinking

• Bret Easton Ellis - Glamorama

• Stephen King - On Writing

• Han Kang - The Vegetarian

• Harlan Ellison - I Have No Mouth But I Must Scream

Follow me on GoodReads to see the rest of the books I've read !!!

Music that makes me glad I haven’t offed myself yet:

• The Last Shadow Puppets - The Element of Surprise

• Porter Robinson - Get Your Wish

• Troye Sivan - What’s The Time Where You Are?

• Charli xcx, cupcakKe - Lipgloss

• Panic! At The Disco - Collar Full

Random life updates:

• I stayed at school for Thanksgiving break, and I stepped outside maybe twice. That break genuinely did not feel real. I was dissociating so hard, I felt more like a concept than a person. 

• Second year of college has been okay. Nothing will ever beat the exhilaration of first year, but at least I’m not at rock bottom anymore. I hope to have more fun in the coming months, though my school isn't exactly known for that. Having fun is a mindset. 

• I need to go outside more, but it’s about twenty degrees for the rest of the month and it ain’t getting any warmer. 

• I have to write a story for my English class where I combine postmodernist and modernist writing techniques. I chose this prompt for myself, and I’m struggling with the consequences of my own nerdy ambition. 

Anyway, if you’re reading this, thanks for being here. Stay warm and sexy and fresh. I can't wait for VHF to be yours.

With love,

J