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| Ok. I admit it. I really do love anime, video games, and internet culture. See, I always have. As far back as I could remember, Transformers, Ninja Turtles, Dragonball, Pokemon, fantasy/scifi novels, video games, and cartoons as a whole have been where my true passions lie.
I think for a really long time, I've been avoiding this fact. I would never really feel comfortable talking about them, and would avoid speaking about them when possible. I mean, as a kid I was openly fanatical about my Dragonball and Pokemon obsessions, but as I grew older, I kinda clued in on the fact that this wasn't exactly mainstream, and generally avoided anything that had to do with these hobbies when they appeared in real life. Near the end of my high school years, I remember becoming somewhat uncomfortable when friends around me would talk about games in public, when just a year earlier, I would have been in the middle of the discussion.
Of course, I don't think the change was a bad thing. In fact, even though I'm coming out in this post, I still will avoid talking about these things in public - it's more instinctual than not at this point. I mean, I avoid talking about them, and pretend I'm not into it as much as I really am when I'm in public - and that's fine. I have no problem lying to keep up appearances. However, there has been a fundamental change in my thinking these past few months. The change that I'm talking about is that I've more or less come to terms with myself that, yes, video games, anime, and fictional stories are my obsessions, and that no, they are not just a passing phase.
While I'm writing this, all these buzzwords keep popping up in my head that would almost certainly appear in a remarkably similar sort of coming out: repressed, confused, experimented... well, just to make sure the reader's thoughts are focused where I want them to be, rest assured that my orientation in that field is remarkably linear. Straight, even.
When I first started really indulging in my hobbies - back in high school - I would be enjoying them, but at the same time in the back of my head, I'd be telling myself "They're just hobbies. It's a phase. It'll pass. When it's time to really become a part of the real world, my interest in these things will (somehow) fade." Whether it was from the fact that my hobbies weren't mainstream acceptable, or the fact that the hobbies really had no productive future in them, or maybe because I was trying to convince myself that this was just my way of escaping high school stress, this was what I kept telling myself.
In the middle of 10th grade, I obtained the entirety of the Rurouni Kenshin series in RM format - 92 eps. I watched this series over a period of 4 days (M-Th). 92eps x 20min each = 1840 min. = 30+ hours. Somehow, between going to school, going to tennis practice every afternoon (getting home at 5), and having orchestra until 9 every Tuesday, I watched 92 eps of Kenshin. Basically, I didn't sleep much. Basically, this was the story of my life for most of my 10th grade high school career. Do all the shit I had to do during the day, watch anime, play games, and browse the internet all night, and sleep during school. And yet... if someone had asked me if I liked anime back then, I would have replied: "yea, kinda."
I played tennis through most of high school. Did I really enjoy it? I thought I did. Thinking about it now, not really. I play Guilty Gear(GG) - a fighting game that I enjoy immensely. Let's parallel.
* When first starting: GG - hours perfecting a simple combo to make it execute quickly and reliably. Tennis - Let's go home as soon as mandatory practice is over.
* Research: GG - many many hours spent online researching character specific tactics, and technical data about the game in general. Tennis - research hahahah.
* Keeping up with the competitive world: GG - I could probably cite 20+ top players in Japan and the US, their character choice, their playstyle, and any major tournament appearances. Tennis - Federer, Roddick, Agassi, Sampras, the fact that the Grand Slam Open titles exist, aaaaand that's about it.
Ok, yes, this is an overly simplistic example, but the fact is that I will willingly and happily dedicate many many hours to - making sure I am up-to-date on the latest anime news, making sure my anime collection is correctly burned and organized, making sure that I have the highest quality subs of a certain series, watching match videos of tournament guilty gear matches, and reading fucking Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince overnight the night before a midterm - but will not spend the two hours required to insure that I do not fail a midterm.
Don't get me wrong. When I'm sitting in class, lectures are interesting. When I'm playing, tennis and basketball are damn fun. It's just that my passions lie elsewhere.
So where do my passions lie? Basically everywhere. If I were to list every single thing that I find interesting or time-worthy while on my computer, the list would be much too long and, in some cases, personal for me to even bother. But generally, I love games, anime, fantasy/scifi novels, and certain parts of internet culture - basically nothing productive. And I'm starting to realize that this isn't just a passing phase - that this is what I really enjoy.
Let's go on a tangent here. About a week ago, I was listening to talk radio, and they were discussing how to decide on what career to really pursue. The radio show host was basically saying (rather self-righteously) to fuck thinking about the money. Go after what you're really passionate about, and with hard work and a lot of patience, you will come out ahead both financially and self-fulfillingly. His example was personal - he went into radio talk shows completely individual and independent, worked 80+ hour weeks, could barely pay rent, but with enough perseverence, now he's a multi-million dollar radio talk show host with amazing hours. His point is that even if it does require an unnatural proportion of hard work at the beginning, it's ok because this it's what you love.
No transition here. With that story in mind, let's continue on my original track.
One of the things that I think really catalyzed this whole thing is my current job. I currently work in Quality Assurance for Square Enix. Basically I play games from one of my favorite game companies for a job. It's sweet. Anyway, this is actually the first time I seriously saw video games as an industry. As a career. I mean, I always knew in some part of my head that "of course video gaming is an industry with jobs" but the dominant line of thinking was always "DOCTOR LAWYER BUSINESS RAWR."
I sit at my desk every day, and I see people working on games as a job - and I dream of doing the same. Then I go to salary.com and see that the average doctor makes 5 times as much as the average job in the video game industry and get really sad - but I still dream it. And when I do, I know. I know that if my career, my lifework, was being part of the creation process for a video game - regardless of how good the game was, what part of the creation process I was, or how utterly crappy the pay would be - I would be happy. I really would. When I imagine myself working as a doctor, or a lawyer - I recognize the benefits, recognize that the job could be interesting, challenging, engaging, whatever - but it's always objective. When I imagine myself creating games, or editing novels, or writing for a gaming/anime magazine - I am subjectively stimulated. Read: I FEEL HAPPY. I know that I would be happy.
But does it matter? Well, I can't say I know whether happiness or monetary gain will make me happier in the future, but for now, independent financial stability is a priority. That means that no, it doesn't matter. Regardless of what I know... no. I know, it's sad. But hey, after I make some money at some high-paying job, if my passions are still there, I can always return, right? 35's not too old to make fiction my life's work, right? I'm sure my fledgeling familiy wouldn't mind stepping a few steps down the social financial ladder to humor me, right? Well, it helps me sleep at night, regardless.
Well, let's leave it at that. This was an aspect of my life that was floating around in my head that I needed to put into words - since currently my head is trying to wrap itself around some other, rather more serious, issues.
I need to go buy rice.
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| I hate cliche's because they render the words and their meanings meaningless. | | |
| Most of the time, when I laugh, I wonder if I laugh for the wrong reasons. | | |
| I've been thinking that I should try to put into words things I know to be definite about myself - whether it's in regards to my personality, my likes/dislikes, my passions, my excitements, or my personal motivation. These days, the idea of solidifying my person seems to become more and more appealing due to the hectic docility infecting my life.
However, the biggest hindrance to this process seems to be an involuntary resistance to fall into the cliche of the 'soul searching young man.' For whatever reason, I feel this is a stage that seems juvenilely laughable and somewhat expected to be limited to my high school years.
Of course, now that I'm writing this, it seems the reason behind this irrational fear of being judged seems to be a good point at which to start this process.
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| Midterm studying procrastination: Go~! It seriously bothers me when I finish reading a book or series and find it amazing/poignant/moving/thought-provoking/zomgasmic... and then go online to read that other people read/saw the same book/series and disliked it because they completely missed the whole point of the book/series, or liked it only on a shallow level because they missed something that could intensify the experience. Initially, I wondered if I was being arrogant by assuming that I was able to see something in the series that doesn't exist for other people. I mean, it could be possible that the work spoke to me on a personal enough level that it wouldn't speak the same to other people. Or that there really is nothing special to the series, and that I'm making something out of nothing. However, lately I've been becoming more convinced in the correctness of my gut reaction - that these people really are completely missing the beauty of the work either through ignorance or straight up laziness. But that's not what bothers me. What bothers me is that after I read so many apparent misunderstandings, it's completely futile to try and explain the greatness of the work to others. At times, it's because the reason it's so great is that it spoke to me on a too-personal level to relate to others. Other times, it's because the thing I liked about it is so trivial or strange that it'd feel weird pointing it out. Usually though, there really is no place or time to explain a personal perspective of a series without sounding like an wtftard- unless someone explicitly asks me for my personal perspective of the series - which almost never (read never) happens. And more often then not, since these explanations would be occuring using the internet as a medium, what's the point? Why should I go out of my way to relate my experience to others who I have no connection with. There's no clear benefit. What results is a huge sense of dissatisfaction after I read/watch an amazing book/series. I want to share my amazement and the reasons for my <3 - but I never can. I think the biggest problem is that what I'm looking for is some place to be able to have true discussions about my interests, and that it probably doesn't exist - simply on the basis that my interests cover too wide of mediums to be contained within one circle. I mean, where am I going to be able to talk about the amazingness of Mushishi, the beauty of design in my last cs project, the brilliance of Ka2's Jam, the pure genius of Orson Scott Card, and the many other <3's I have? While I'm writing this, I think what happens is that generally, people tend to attach themselves to a dominant interest, while focusing less on their other interests. Examples being huge sports fans attaching to a single sport, hardcore christians attaching to their church/club/group, etc. Thinking about it, a big part of my problem is that I, on a basic level, refuse to become attached to any one group. I'm a true lurker. I've been around my interests long enough that if I had joined a group or created a circle of friends to begin with, I could have probably been much deeper into each interest. Whether from a sense of guilt that my interests weren't "acceptable", or simply a lack of social graces, I never really formed any bonds with people within my interests. While this is written in terms of the internet, of course another problem that becomes apparent is that when speaking of social seclusion, my interests are usually so far from the mainstream that irl, it's very difficult to not put up a front and be who I really am. Now what I'm wondering is - is it my fault for having so many interests outside the norm? Or is it other people's faults for not being able to accept things outside the norm? I suppose the correct answer is that it's nobody's fault, and that it's simply a matter of miscommunication. Of course, the correct answer is not always the right one. Simply dismissing the problem as miscommunication implies that there is a basis of communication to begin with - which when introducing yourself as liking anime and video games - is a rather fragile basis. In the first place, I wonder if it's normal to have this urge to share after these types of experiences. This whole post wouldn't be here if I didn't have these urges. But I digress. Ultimately what I'm trying to say is that even my greatest experience from a book/series/game match/movie is tainted by frustration and dissatisfaction - which really pisses me off. Of course, in a fictional world, there'd be one person in the world who shares my interests and/or completely understands me - and that person just happens to be female, right? I'd say that would be a left. | | |
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