HOH Magazine: February/March 2023 Issue

First of all, I haven't shaved my beard yet. I am not exactly sure why. I know I said I would. It seems I have grown to like it this way. There's a significant charm to it now, and I know if I shave it off I won't get that back. Not for, you know, another thousand days. I'm not sure when I graduated from tolerance to affection, but I'm letting myself luxuriate in the big spindly bush before I take control of it. Which is itself a form of control.

Anyway, I wanted to jot down some personal thoughts, and hey that's what a blog is for. Why not just cut out the middle-man and publish it? This is supposed to be fun, not work. Let's see if I still vibe with that approach by the time I'm finished writing this, hah!

I wanted to film something in front of a mural and stumbled upon the perfect match.

Where is my self-esteem? That's the topic of the month. I think I thought it was in a fairly high place, but I'm starting to think I thought wrong. The other night I was sitting on the side of the bathtub, where all the best thoughts come from. I was in my bedtime routine, holding my mouthguard under the faucet to heat it, when I had a moment of honest interrogation.

I feel as though I like myself pretty much a lot. And I know I'm worthy of love and yadda yadda yadda, I've had a decade of acceptance for my choice to be single and not try, blah blah blah...

But accepting not-trying and being comfortable in my armor-cage is essentially sweeping 'having to face those issues' under the rug, and then saying "I love having this rug here and not moving it."

Because when it comes to the hypothetical world of dating, I'm starting to suspect that while I have a high estimation of my self, I actually still have low self-esteem when it comes to hypothetical interactions with other hypothetical people. As the hot water was grazing my fingers, I wondered:

"Have I neurotically twisted my lifelong low self-esteem away from knowing it as 'feeling bad about myself,' and made it exclusively about 'feeling bad about myself interacting with other people'?"

Again this is all still hypothetical because it's functionally impossible to 'perform field research' as scientists say. And not just because of the pandemic. I'm not in high school anymore, and haven't been in school for close to a decade. "Flirting" and "Dating" are things that no longer exist in the wild.

...I know that's a gross hyperbole, and a half-joke...but I'm leaving it because maybe that sentence actually tips the [topic at] hand. Like a scab that runs deeper than I think... Here I go picking again.

Comic by Josh Engel

And I know what you're probably thinking. "Why not heat it at the sink?" and the reason for that is the sink doesn't get hot enough. Or if it could, it doesn't get hot enough quick enough to soften the custom-mould appliance. The bathtub gets dangerously hot rather efficiently, so it's not an alternative: it is my primary.

Basically, I had to ask myself: did I just change the internal thought "Nobody would like me" into "Nobody wants to be bothered by me" instead? This is the entire reason I'm writing this; I'm only now realizing that that might actually just be a different angle on the same pyramid of low self-esteem. I've merely managed to turn it on its side through slow, methodical justification gymnastics. A rose, by any other name, is still as thorny.

"But the justifications are so rooted in true-ish truisms though!!" I hear my inner complacency complain. I know, I'm a straight dude. Straight dudes bother people. Logic follows that I may bother people by some natural predestination. (Which I know is basically bogus, but this is intrusive thinking we're dealing with, so I transcribe it rough and blunt.) And that thought scares me! I fuckin' don't want to be that! That kinda situation is very uncomfortable for me (as well as the other party obviously.) So, with respect to that, I try very hard not to bother anyone.

...Okay I don't try "very hard." Not bothering people is fucking effortless. That's the truth: it's called avoidance. And "not bothering people" fits snugly over "not trying at all because of low self-esteem" like a shirt covering up scars; such that I can justify pretending I don't have any scars. I've worn this shirt long enough that I don't see them in the mirror anymore, perhaps making me come to believe that I don't have scars, actually.

But it isn't some noble effort, to avoid causing bother. That's the biggest lie I need to stop believing. It's a cowardly comfort couched in The Easy Way to avoid anything at all. An anything that could possibly be good for me or *gasp* another person also.

It's funny that even when you try to be honest with yourself, you can still lie to yourself. I think I'm starting to see through that, though. (Entirely self-prompted, too! That's neat. Nobody else had to say that to me. Movies and song lyrics in my orbit lately are reinforcing it, but none directly spurred it.)

While it is true that people don't wanna be bothered by dudes -- that's basically an idiom at this point. What I mean is that's all external. It is a thing that exists for the culture at large. An archetype, which by definition is devoid of contextual basis. No case-by-case on the generic tin. And I already intuited this but I need to scream it at myself: it's an idiom which excludes me, has nothing to do with my own perspective, and doesn't involve me at all, probably. (Probably? I mean, look at the specific case-by-case examples. They sure don't look like me.)

You dig?

It's like how they design warnings for idiots, so smart people like you and I might scoff at such obvious safety instructions? These seemingly-universal things: insights, recommendations, advice...don't apply to everyone. Recognizing the personal relevance of such things from inside the cacophony is an acquired skill.

Sometimes it does apply to you. But sometimes it doesn't.

And with this example -- this cultural token -- it does not include me in its extended appendix. Instead, it's basically been used by me like a smokescreen. I think "people don't like being bothered by straight dudes" to cover up my true feeling: an underlying assumption that "people aren't interested in socializing with me." Which is still unhealthy!! It's still the product of low self-esteem!! But it's a decent enough defense that it slipped past my own guards and took hold in my brain's higher offices!

But since, being honest with myself, it [probably] doesn't apply to me, it is then purely just 'something else' to point a finger at, for the situation I am in. The inability to summon confidence to try dating or whatever, fuck you gonna make me type that out loud?

Yes, it's true that I don't want to try dating, and I've been okay with that. Independent of my fears and anxieties and intrusive thoughts about it. I am content being single.

...It's also true that I want to try it, though?

And believing this kind of crap [applies to me] is a gargantuan barrier to that. An external scapegoat for a blame that's still on me. Squarely on my low self-esteem.

Something just clicked: I don't want to date in the traditional way that I find unappealing. Could THAT be it? I think I'd like to be afforded to try things in my own style, maybe? At my own pace?? An alternative that works for me? There's no one way this has to be. I just... I don't know what that looks like, because it's something I probably have to invent or discover.

Maybe it is no different from how learning Algebra the way it was in the books and classes never made sense to me, but some alternate way [in a summer school make-up I did with my mom's help] actually managed to crack open my understanding, and then I flew through the rest of the workbook.

This is also also basically the same as coming to realize I do want to exercise and "work out," but I hate the gym and don't want to even try to fit into that subculture that doesn't appeal to me or my personality at all. And that's okay! Both things can be true! The "reasons" that I perceive behind that subculture I don't identify with are not the only reasons, nor do they have to be mine for me to do it.

It's wrong to assume things, bro we've been over this. But I guess we'll keep unpacking. "No assumptions no expectations." It's an easy order that gets taller the closer you try to live by it. And partly, I avoid the baseline of confrontation (i.e. initiation) because I'm not even that interested in gaining information about another person's hypothetical receptiveness to Me, Myself, Speaking To Them. It feels very hard to feel compelled, especially when staring down the shadow of fear which looms larger and compels worse.

And yet...prodding for that information is the only way to not assume anything.

To which there are simply two outcomes: yes, or no. And I know No isn't a bear trap that I'll regret stepping foot in the grass only to find; I feel like rejection has been such a nonentity for a decade or more of my life that I doubt it has anything to do with the fears and anxieties that keep me out of the allegorical pool. And it certainly wouldn't shake up the status quo I'm used to much. I'm not afraid of No. I've had No's before. It might hurt a little, sure, but whatever. With strangers? Who gives a fuck? (Investment is the only thing that builds fucks-giving.) I'm not afraid of No from someone I don't know. It's one of life's least hurtful punches.

Simply, I am afraid of "No." only because it means I have bothered someone. Or rather, I can perceive that I have bothered someone. When I easily could not have. That's where the shame/regret/guilt sets in. (And where a healthy societal upbringing would prevent such worries from ever being accrued.)

I don't even like asking employees in a store where a product is unless it is absolutely necessary, because I don't want to inconvenience their work day in the slightest if I can help it. (I like to be left alone, so I project that onto my assumption about most everyone else.)

So I think I'm just afraid of the shame of doing something innocuous that is received (or I discover to have been) unwanted.*

In the distant past I called this "If I knew they'd say yes, I'd ask."

Weeeeeee!

I feel like I've definitely written all this before. But that's good. Reiterative thinking -- circling the same subject again and again -- gets my train of thought closer to the station at the center of that mental whirlpool, and allows me to express the complications of its scope more concisely. I find pleasure in thinking in circles. Same principle as listening to songs (or watching movies) over and over again: new stuff keeps emerging and you get a clearer, fuller understanding.

ANYWAY, I've also probably written before that, "Yes David but you see, poking your head out to inquire and then getting a 'No' and then reacting like a normal human adult and not some kind of psychopathic wounded-ego jerk-ass is actually a great outcome." Which is true, because it shows the hypothetical other person that saying "No." is welcome and will be received as intended and -- if but for a moment -- we can realize a healthier society. Jesus Christ. It'd be easier to... I should just flow chart this shit. Time to click the ballpoint:

The obvious conclusion is that the only progressive action is action and not inaction. EUREKA!!!!!

Actually, there is another breakthrough to be found, I found, from charting this out; if me staring out my window into the duskening eve for a solid, stoic moment is any indication: there is only one outcome that elicits fear in me, and it's a Yes.

Because a Yes means it doesn't end there. At the same time, the stakes for if it does end are now starting to climb. 'It ending' is now partially my responsibility, and could potentially be my fault. A Yes creates investment, and investment builds fucks to give. The foundation of expectations, both within me and the other person. Expectations create room for bigger disappointments. Scary stuff!

I'm sorry for the way that I can't hold conversations.

There's a reason The Beths are kicking the ass of my soul, and have been for over a year now since I dove into them (was that September 2021? I believe it was, wow time flies when it's standing still.)

There's sometimes a part of me that autistically rejects wanting to take on responsibilities. Just leave me be, you know? I got enough on my plate! I can only do a few tasks per day! ...This may have ties to fears of ostracism, or of punishment for failing to meet expectations, I think? But that's probably too deep to dig into right now. For this issue's issues, I tend to believe that I'm not "afraid of commitment." However I am afraid of letting people down. (Because I can, very easily. There's plenty of stuff I say I'll do that I end up forgetting to...and then it's months or even years later and I feel fucking embarrassed and run from it forever like a pre-teen Donnie in Creed III.) Letting people down is directly linked to the word 'commitment.' So... Yeah.

But we're getting ahead of myself. The point I'm trying to get at is: don't assume! Ever! If you have a question, ask! And reward the curiosity of yourself and others.

If you know what you want then, open your mouth.

As I've expounded on before, that's all confidence is: knowing something can be done, and with that knowledge, doing it. With confidence, the doing is possible. That's the lesson that's been rattling around my brain for months (or years) but has yet to stick.

Shiiiiit, there's a hundred George Watsky lyrics that fit like coals under my feet on this problem. The quintessential understanding is that a little bit of fear is the right motivator. Be nervous but do it anyway. "If I didn't try my doubts would eat at me like I'm a carcass on the sea floor." With his latest album just out, I've been listening to his work a lot recently. Potent reminders that I've known this stuff for years and years. The application is just the hard part. I'm too coddled by the comfort of not being uncomfortable, of not plunging into the waters of nervous fear-facing to embrace the cold shock before it eventually, as with all things you get used to, subsides...

Only knees deep, I'll never be brave like you.

It's insecurity. But not, like, the bad kind? Like not insecurity in the way "men are so fucking insecure." (That doesn't apply to me, you dig?) It's the healthy kind...kind of. I'm secure about myself, just insecure about my intrusion into the spaces of others. Specifically talking with people I don't know yet. I'm typically shy around new people! Regardless of context. Groups, classes, parties where I only know the host... I'm gregarious at heart, but guarded for the first while. Grower not a shower, socially, haha. I open up when comfortable.

*Maybe this is because as a kid I'd been bitten, socially, for being gregarious in situations where either I shouldn't have been but didn't know better (because I couldn't pick up on cues, or just general Kid Inexperience) or where I thought I could be a loose and unfiltered Me™ but then other people weren't having it. I dunno, there's probably something deeper to unpack there, too.

(My heart is a colored pencil but my brain is an eraser.)

But as it stands, it is a calcified insecurity that isn't toxic, just isolating. I don't "overcompensate" for it, because how it makes me act is to not talk to people. Avoidance. Along with intrusive thoughts that people'll bite me for reaching out. Those are fun because they're stupid as fuck, who invented those?

The only true way for me -- ME -- to really see how irrational that insecurity is, is to venture through it. No other way.

And maybe I can try it my own way...whatever that even means.

I just want to be myself. I'm allergic to being phony. Or feeling like I am. Until now, "myself" has not been able to exist in this particular subcultural sphere known as "dating"...and the thought of attempting to try makes me think it has to involve a radical change in persona, and I just can't bring myself to "be fake." ...Even if at least a little bit of 'fake it' is a prerequisite for 'until you make it' and that is perfectly okay, because there are levels to it, you and I know.

I need to yell at myself in the mirror that it's doable without being something I'm not.

Leaving one's comfort zone is crucial, but that doesn't mean it's uncharacteristic, dehumanizing, or that I can't remain true to myself while in new places and contexts. It's scary, but it's necessary.

"If you feel safe in the area you're working in, you're not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you're capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth, and when you don't feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you're just about in the right place to do something exciting."  - David Bowie

The therapy tactic of the empty chair, of imagining one's self in the third person, highlights perspectives and solutions you can't come to from your insider's point of view. If this were someone else, what would I say to them? One of this blog's main efforts in a nutshell, I suppose; reading old posts is like a wake-up slap from the past. Especially if I'm still yakking about the same shit I've already worked through in preach but not in practice.

So if I actually do make an effort to change, and commit to the discomfort of attempting and trying, I could become a new and improved version of myself in that tunnel. I could recognize the irrationality of my current, longstanding social insecurity to the level where I might have the power to conquer it. If not entirely, then mostly. Or at least gain the knowledge to help fuel future actions in confidence.

That'd be nice.

Things are less scary when you've tried it and lived.

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I'm Into This! — February 2023

Avatar: The Way of Water

Okay so the Avatar movies rule so hard and James Cameron is my blockbuster filmmaking idol now. 100%. I saw Avatar: The Way of Water five times in IMAX 3D. I am a convert. This entire segment will just be excerpts from my reviews of Avatar and Avatar: The Way of Water I posted on Letterboxd, so if you follow me there you already know why I admire Cameron so personally:

James Cameron got the blankest of checks after Titanic and he used it to make his magnum opus -- the confluence of every influence and synthesis of all the things in his head and heart in a singular work of art -- which had to be in the form/medium of "multimillion-dollar tentpole blockbuster sci-fi action/adventure movie" cinema. As someone with a similar dream outlet for a magnum opus, I am spiritually required to stan forever. And that this blank-check magnum opus yielded an even bigger blank check? And he's using it to keep making sequels in this original world of his for the rest of his career? Incredible. Impossible to win harder in Hollywood. [1]

I've been thinking a lot lately about the craft of writing, and the building of a "body" of a story in the order of Bones [pure narrative function/necessity; you need all of them and in the correct places] > Muscles [function and necessary form to allow the function bones to actually move] > Skin & other outward appearance [the form that holds all that function together into a unit and what looks good doing it.] So I went into this viewing high keen on noticing the economy and efficiency happening under all the hundred-million-dollar spectacle. Folks, when you have both of these things, you get a great movie. That's a potent mix.

The movie is almost subtle with how it guides you to understand the geography of a space like the CET-OPS whaling ship. You even get a sense of the temperatures of the beaches, waters, etc. And a sense of the passage of time: you can tell the Sullys have been spending months learning the Metkayina ways. It's more than just one element, but it's also as simple as having a character be pregnant throughout that portion of the film. Taking no chances that people will miss that temporal information; it's the most subtle version of cutting to an insert shot of a calendar.

Because the necessary function of everything in a movie, down to each and every frame or cut, is about relaying -- and controlling -- what information the audience should focus on. And Cameron knows that like the back of his hand. Practically every pay-off has a set-up that doesn't feel like a set-up; the set-ups will have their own purpose in the scene they're introduced in. Or they'll appear as part of the "sit back and relax and luxuriate in the beauty of this world" moments.

I love this movie so much. It accomplished a truly insane metric, which is that I was thinking about my own Sci-Fi Epic Magnum Opus idea while I was watching it; and through that lens of picking up on the narrative economic functions, I started putting pieces together for my own idea that truly work -- breaking my own independent story while watching this one. Incredible. Incredible, I couldn't do it without the inspiration. The muse of what can be proven true. What a picture. They say the best day to start writing your screenplay is yesterday, the second best is today. This thing took a decade to write and the proof is in the pudding, so I'd better start my own decade already. [2]

The thing about anything is if you make it with the damndest love and care and knowledge and understanding of what you want to do and why...paired with the resources and time to do it? You're gonna make something that kicks ass and is good; that's just the math of passion. [3]

Hershey Kisses Roses Milk Chocolate Meltaway

This is NOT A SPONSORED POST DON'T YOU DARE ACCUSE.

They're just delicious, okay? They taste like Dove Chocolates basically, which is why they're better than pretty much every Kiss™ I've ever had. I kept the bag from the year I first got 'em so I'd remember to look for them in the future, and guess what they're back baby!

Well, not anymore.

But next year!

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So yeah, that's where I'm at, as we [coincidentally as of the day of this very publication] start our 4th fucking consecutive year of once-completely-preventable global pandemic in a fucking row. Absolutely true that my insecurity mentioned above is supplemented with the thoughts of "nobody wants to be around me because I will not go to restaurants or wherever without a mask." As if my fucking boundaries are some kind of inexcusable obstacle and not something that the right, cool and kind people would be able to accommodate, and accept, or more than accept (embrace enthusiastically.)

To quote The Beths, hey you can't win without entering. To quote Watsky, it isn't gonna do to move our lips; we prove it with the chips.

With confidence must also come a willingness to get hurt. To lower defenses expecting some slings and arrows. (Loosen my heart strings in the high hopes of starting to find something truthful.) Holding firm to my own boundaries and standards is the kind of defense you can still have equipped when you're no longer in the cage of your armor. An internal fortification, one that should still keep the pain from creating wounds.

Guess what, I had yet another breakthrough on this while in the shower. Like, literally just now, today. So I've been treating confidence as a verb, right? But it's also a noun. I think confidence-the-noun only really comes about from performing confidence-the-verb. Because confidence is intrinsically correlated to experience. In my experience.

I'm really fucking good at Mario Kart. This is because I have played a lot of Mario Kart, for years. I'm not scared one bit to step into Waluigi Stadium with you. But, I won't play guitar on stage, because I've never played guitar. I have no confidence that I can do it, because I know I can't. (...Yet.)

Tangent: somewhat-unrelated but, I have stage fright in general, yet I got through it when doing plays in high school, even the one which required me to sing on stage which is like two performance frights at once! I have to psych myself up and know a song stone-cold before I'll do karaoke (because I do it sober.) But I'm able to do it, and having done it in the past makes it...well, if not easier to do it again, it does give me logical basis to find the courage again. Or to at least tell that little voice to shut up.

Now, of course there is also over-confidence or false confidence. Believing I could shoot a half-court shot despite not ever playing basketball much. But if you believe that, hey go ahead. I suspect in examples like that, it's ego taking the place of confidence. But that is okay: because you might miss and feel humbled (hopefully.) Or you might make the shot and feel electric.

That's something I wrestle with, natch. I try not to be egotistical since the downsides are too prickly. And I value being authentic to myself, so my natural path is to course-correct (or overcompensate you might say) into modesty. But this can create the inverse trap of false modesty. Damned if you do or don't, will or won't. The balanced mental diet is a tightrope path: real narrow. (I sprint along it pushing all my swagger in a wheelbarrow.) Ego is a natural thing, there's levels to it, there's a balancing act, it can be healthy. It can be a tool, it can be your friend.

The only way to do something is to go through it. Avoiding is just another name for neglecting a better future you. But hitting Publish on this blog post page won't unlock any doors or permanently swing open the cage. It's not a one-time cure, it's an ongoing treatment. Otherwise my prior writings would've made me do more. It's like sobriety or anger management or whatever: it's a constant, active, conscious choice we have to make daily. And in this infinite quarantine I've let my conscious active choice-making device atrophy, in favor of chasing momentary bliss and escapism, the funnel of instinct-following during this endless spring break because I've got the fucking time.

But that's illusory too. It's been 3 years today. 1096 days. I feel numb to the numbers; they're meaningless in their majority like the will of the people in this corrupt United States democracy; who cares if most are good and agree on wanting good things? The system of the few says No. That's Not What We Feel Like Doing. Because Fuck You.

...My, my, that metaphor grew. But as far as the symbolic 'system' in myself, I can topple that despot disposition. (All my enemies are in me.)

Well, now that I've written it, how can I hold myself to follow it?

I'll read this post once or twice through, and then it'll sink into the tar pit of short-term memory. But if I make mnemonic Post-It notes and affix them in spots before my eyes, I can try not to blink. And hold myself to the higher standard I've outlined here. Best of luck to you as well. It's a constant routine, like brushing your teeth. You'll never be 'finished' but that's the idea.

Incidentally, I've started brushing my teeth twice a day, by working it into my morning routine. Turns out that good habits take hold rather easily. With just the right commitment.

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And now for a quote:

“Love comes in very strange packages. And I think everything depends, in life, on whether or not you’re able to accept what comes to you. Because in never comes to you in the way you think it will. It never comes to you the way you’re taught it will. It comes as it comes.”
    - James Baldwin

             James Baldwin: From Another Place (1973, dir. Sedat Pakay)

Until next time,

— David "The Pants" Hoh