“The Wayward Traveler Chronicles” will be a series of journal entries recording my trip across the country from Maine to California. I put this name up there as a tentative placeholder until I could come up with a cooler name, but there isn’t a more apt title to describe my journey. When everything in my life told me I couldn’t, I simply refused to listen. And so, I begin my chronicle of the excursion across the United States.
Wow, the United States. I’ve been to only a handful of them, and I find my number unsettling, like a low number of sexual partners in your early 20s, for the number doesn’t really mean anything, but man, sometimes you wish it was higher. “If I could only live more!”
As I sat in my room, packing away my belongings for my trip across the country, I came across a few things that made me pause.
First, was a yellow notepad that had an outline detailing all of the time travel elements for one of my scripts; it was convoluted and thus the outline was necessary (that alone screams “rewrite”).Read More »
With a click-baity title like that, you know it’s going to be good!
The Great Depression
In the past eighteen months, I’ve gone through some changes, and I never shared them publically like other elements of my personal life (see My Cancer Story).
Now, I was going to provide a summary of this post at the beginning of it a lá news stories on CNN, but I realized how much I fucking hate that. Just let me read the article and stop trying to make us collectively dumber!
In June of 2015, I was at a crossroads. It had been over a year since our short film, The Tale of the Three Brothers (yes, that J.K. Rowling short story) premiered in a preview screening, and I was eager on getting my career “started.”
In the fall of 2012, Brandon, Jim, and I were working on a Guttersnipes comedy video: Department Store Santa. This insane video – depicting me as a homeless man desperately trying to secure a job as a department store Santa for the holiday season – was one of my favorites from our catalog.
During the shoot of this sketch, our teacher came to us in Room 219/306 and said that the school had secured the rights to make a short film based off of the short story, The Tale of the Three Brothers by J.K. Rowling. I had little knowledge of the world of Harry Potter then, but I was game to be a part of any film production, as it is the time wherein I feel most alive.Read More »
Cancer. The mere mention of the word causes a dislodging skip in your heartbeat as the organ descends into the pit of your stomach.
And the trivial confluence of nonsense that makes up your “life:” the bills, the terrible job, the weather; it all just melts away. And all you’re left with is dread.
But then you decompress and absorb the facts, the treatment, the prognosis; suddenly, you’re ready to take this thing head on. The disease is still center stage in your mind, but your perspective shifts to battle-ready mode. With your family and friends on the sidelines rooting you on, you begin treatment.
You learn of the other fighters around you, and join together for a common goal: survival– nay, victory.
At least that was me, thirteen years ago today. And every year since I say this: I’m grateful that I had Leukemia.
Yes, I said grateful. Leukemia opened my eyes to the real world, one where people band together in times of crisis, and care for one another. This world I see is also adorned with appreciation for the little things in life.
I don’t know who I would be if I was spared from cancer. I do know that I wouldn’t appreciate what it means to be alive on the same echelon. Yet every day that I lay my head to rest, I think of those who fought and lost that battle. I live on for them, and I will tell my story to the world on their behalf.
My story will be a long, personal tale that spans most of my life because it’s important to show how I formed, where I could have went, and where I’m going because of my diagnosis. It’s also going to show the long-term effects of such a devastating treatment.
I’ve been writing a chapter a week mostly since late March. At this rate I may end up lapping the calendar, but it’s important to share the story. So if you haven’t read it yet, I suggest you do. And thank you for being a part of my life; no matter how much we interact, you are all special to me.
Life shouldn’t have been so hard after beating its greatest nemesis: Cancer. Why must we continue to suffer under the oppressive thumb of a steady paycheck? It’s time to change this.
Call it survivor’s guilt, call it self-preservation; but I owe it to all of those young children I’d watch in constant pain, the old folks who just couldn’t fight anymore- those who didn’t survive, those that did, and to myself to do something different–
Watch Brandon display all of his Blu-Ray Steelbooks, Digibooks, Metal Packs, and Boxed Sets! He has over one hundred to go through! These boasts some of the most beautiful pieces of art I’ve ever seen on a movie case!
When I first purchased a 3DS (very late in the game; 2014), I was obsessed with Streetpass. The mere notion of “collecting” other 3DS users and using their characters in the games in a “free-to-start” type gameplay style (as Nintendo dubs it), was an intriguing mechanic that kept me running back and forth between al of the McDonald’s in the area and our local Best Buy in an attempt to get all of the Streetpass achievements and respective coins I could possibly acquire.
Some say memory is the soul of the mind; without it, you aren’t yourself. Myriad decisions in your life both shaped the path on which you walk, as well as the keepsakes of those steps that you hold dear. What happens then, if you lose your memories? If you lose who you are?
My grandmother lost her life to vascular dementia this past December. The blood supply to her brain was restricted, causing standard dementia symptoms (most notably) her lack of consistent memory. She’d be completely fine one minute, then wouldn’t remember our faces the next. Most of the last few months with her were spent talking amongst ourselves, as she would rest her eyes, eyebrows strained, labored breathing, as if she’s trying to capture her personality– her mere thoughts in a dream.