Films' Greatest Life Lessons: "Stop giving a fuck and just be happy"

Films allow you to escape your sheltered life and experience the wider world through other people's lives - yet sometimes there isn't a significant difference between yourself and a fictional character.

American Beauty (1999, Sam Mendes)

American Beauty revolves around Lester Burnham’s mid-life crisis and his pedophilic desire to seduce his teenage daughter’s friend. But you forget the Lolita-like storyline as you realize the plot actually depicts Lester’s rejection of societal expectations and his achievement of true happiness. The film is complex as interstellar molecules while Alan Ball and Sam Mendes are scientists that prove humans are flawed.  Our quest for happiness is especially flawed as we expect to become happier with ourselves if we obtain the acceptance and admiration of our peers.  

 Lester’s wife, Carolyn, is a Kris-Jenner-type mum with obsessed with maintaining a perfect image. Carolyn could be a star on The Real Housewives of the Suburbs (if it existed) with her plastic smile, teased up-do, expensive SUV and immaculate home. She meticulously tries to conceive a perfect display for her neighbors, work colleagues and herself. The color of her gardening clogs even matches the handles of her pruning shears, which was “not an accident.” Beneath her ‘perfect’ façade, she is a miserable, insecure woman whose family hates her.  Her idea of success and happiness is being admired and respected by her peers - even if it means being deceptive.  Carolyn sees more importance in convincing people she lives a perfect, happy life rather than actually achieving true happiness.  Carolyn is so fixated with her image and reputation she neglects her family relationships, which prevents her being genuinely happy. She overlooks the importance of self-acceptance as she conceals her insecurities and imperfections while also telling Lester and her daughter, Jane, to do the same. You can’t help but scoff when she says to Jane, “Are you trying to look unattractive?” – because, to Carolyn, beauty (or at least the appearance of normality) is the true indication of success and happiness.  You might disapprove of her outlook as you ask, “Why the hell does she care so much?” but – surprise! Carolyn is you.

On the other hand, Lester teaches us a lesson on achieving true happiness by “not giving a fuck” and rejecting society’s expectations. He practically gives the middle finger and tells us to shove our conformism up our asses. At first glance, Lester appears to be living the American dream with his nuclear family, well-paying job and white-picket-fenced-suburban home. According to American beliefs, Lester should be happy but behind the curtains we see his depression and resentment for his life. He is confined by Carolyn’s compulsion for perfection while she keeps his “dick in a mason jar under the sink”. She even demands him to “at least pretend to be happy”. Unlike Carolyn, Lester realizes his happiness shouldn’t be based upon other people’s judgment and thus he dismisses his concerns about his social status and reputation. He begins on a pursuit for happiness by focusing on himself and his passions and ignores the disapproval from Carolyn and society. He smokes weed, he quits his office job for a minimum wage job at a fast food restaurant, and he also tries to pursue a sexual relationship with his teenage daughter’s friend, Angela.  Since Lester abandons society’s ideals of the American dream, he is able to focus on improving his relationship with Jane. He realizes happiness comes from a family’s love for each other.  Although Lester dies, his life ends in happiness – not tragedy - as he “can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment” of his life.   

In our generation that is obsessed with getting “likes”, we can only hope to be like Lester, to be like someone who isn’t worried about being a “loser”. 

- freak out 

one-week-old-adult

Some people say your 18th birthday is the first day of your life so I guess I've been alive for a week now. Changes have already occurred within my first week of adulthood; I've quit piano lessons and I've released FREAK. I'm also currently listening to the Suburbs album and I already feel nostalgic listening to the portrayal of teenage life in the suburbs/small towns. Whereas, a month ago I felt it reflected my current life as we wasted our hours driving around Auckland with nothing to do but searching for something to do. For some reason, I feel like I'm already looking back on my teen years - where I had minimal responsibility and commitments. Now I actually have a job.

It wasn't a hard decision for me to quit piano lessons because I hadn't been practising often and therefore each piano lesson was a waste of time and my parent's money. But I didn't realise the emotional consequence of erasing something that has been engraved into my weekly routine for 9 years. Every wednesdays at 4pm I was prepared to disappoint my teacher with my lack of practise or sometimes I was excited to please her with my improvement and fluency of Chopin, Beethoven, Debussy or Schumann.  Although my mum forced me into piano lessons and I initially hated it, I grew to accept it as a part of my life.  I grew to enjoy and embrace my musical abilities as I took music at school and realised I had a knack for music. I owe a lot to my piano teacher of 9 years as she gave me the foundation of my music knowledge because how else would I know what key signatures are?

Piano lessons have taught me more than how to play piano as it has also taught me the importance of practise because you will never progress without practise. Its taught me to keep playing and look forward if I make a mistake when I'm performing for others.  I almost cried when I was on the phone to my piano teacher as she advised me to continue playing piano in my spare time because the 9 years of piano lessons would go to waste. I've already cried a few times knowing I'm free on wednesdays now. I've been practising and playing piano but it sucks to know no one will hear it. Quitting piano lessons symbolised the end of a chapter in my life as I associate those memories of piano lessons with my childhood. I plan to continue to learn and practise piano pieces and surprise my teacher with a call asking to have a lesson to get some tips and constructive criticism. Nevertheless, I'm still a pianist.

The day before my 18th birthday, I began to make FREAK zine with an aim to finish it before midnight. I was making a birthday present for myself. I just wanted to produce something even if it were to be a shitty, little zine.  I had asked a lot of people to contribute content but I realised I'd probably be more pleased with it if I just do it all myself for the first issue. I drew the pictures, took the photos and wrote every word.  My back and knees became tender and sore as I sat crossed-legged on the floor cutting and pasting all day.   After a long day of typing, printing, paper-cutting and gluing, I finally finished it. Even though it's not what I had planned, I'm still pleased with the final product and I foresee a promising future for FREAK. I've proven myself I'm able to make things happen.  FREAK has helped me progress in my journey of 'not giving a fuck' as I post about FREAK without worrying about the amount of likes, comments or praise.

I just want people to be exposed to new ideas and experiences that they wouldn't receive from their family, friends or school. I understand I need to be social-media-savvy if I want FREAK to reach the masses and therefore I need to be totally shameless on instagram and tumblr. I don't care if its "cringe" or "annoying" of me to promote FREAK because at least I'm doing something. I've already accumulated a decent amount of interest for this first issue from people I don't often talk to. I haven't received any comments from the people I was associated with in school. I'm glad FREAK has attracted 'cool' people while repelling basic bitches but those people need FREAK because they need to educate themselves in individuality, social issues and good music. Some people don't care and some people think I'm weird (or a freak) but I don't give a fuck because I'm going to be successful as fuck.

Next week I'm meeting with the organiser of Auckland Zinefest to discuss possible opportunities for me to help organise zinefest.

" And here in my own skin

I can finally begin"

- Deep Blue, The Suburbs, Arcade Fire

- freak out

first time experiences: Laneway

We could only dream of experiencing anything resembling the world-famous music festivals like Coachella, SXSW and Glastonbury. Big Day Out was Auckland’s (smaller) version of Lollapalooza but it was cancelled once again and we were further deprived of musical discovery. But thank goodness for Laneway being the “next best thing”.

Laneway is entree-sized compared to the giant music festivals but it is still satisfies our hunger for good music. The line up doesn’t have Jay-Z or Arcade Fire as headliners but instead it has up-and-coming musicians who have played or are set to play at the renowned festivals. These artists include Banks, St Vincent, FKA Twigs, Mac Demarco, Jungle, RATKING and Flying Lotus. Laneway takes us to an alternate universe where the music isn’t played on top-40-radio and the musicians aren’t interested in fame or money.

Laneway 2015 fell upon a fiery day where the sun glared at us and we squinted like James Franco in Pineapple Express.  My friends and I prepared for our first Laneway experience with a Smirnoff lunch while Banks’ Warm Water flowed through the speakers. Time was not one of our concerns until we realised we might miss Mac Demarco at 3.05pm if we did not hurry. We sprinted along the crowded Auckland streets and past groups of underage teens yearning for the Laneway experience. One teenage boy had a Mac Demarco vinyl under his arm in hopes of meeting the artist outside the barriers.  Through the gates and security, we joined the population of 12 000 as we entered a land of manbuns, crochet tops, metallic tattoos and avid instagrammers.

Mac Demarco (from afar)

Mac Demarco, indie-rock’s lovable gap-toothed nutcase, attracted an expansive audience with his super-chill, ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ vibe. As Mac sung the opening line of Salad Days, “As I’m getting older…,” the audience instantly united with him. The ocean of people moved like gentle waves as they rocked back and forth on Mac’s wobbly, steel strings. His voice bounced upon the lullaby-like guitar melodies that glided through the warm air but were occasionally interrupted by belches and shrieks of ‘wazzup’s .  

Unfortunately, being late meant I was unable to sneak to a good position in the crowd of Mac Demarco fans. Being only 5ft, it was torturous for me since I was only able to get a quick glimpse of Mac in a Maggie Simpson t-shirt and a backwards baseball cap if I jumped high enough. Once I got on a stranger’s shoulders, I watched him play his Fender guitar as if it was his natural instinct and I was able to finally witness his trademark, scruffy red vans.

deal with it

In addition to being a talented musician, Mac is also a skilled performer who knows how to give the audience a good time.  He would introduce the next song in comical voices including a bellowing grunt of a stereotypical Canadian-lumberjack.  His performance was a paradox of his comedic personality and his heart-felt songs about dealing with adulthood, his newfound fame and his father’s drug habits.

Patience is the key to getting a spot at the front on the metal barriers. I was walking against the current of people leaving after Mac Demarco’s set in preparation for Jungle who weren’t scheduled to perform until an hour later. Meanwhile Royal Blood were on the next stage attacking their electric guitars and the ferocious vibrations traveled through the bars I rested myself on.

Jungle

At 5.40pm Jungle’s seven members streamed onto the stage and were ready to cascade their energetic electronic-neo-soul-funk music upon the sweating audience.  The audience increased the total millilitres of perspiration as they jigged to Jungle’s groove.  I was surprised to learn four voices of the seven members create the one, distinct voice of Jungle. Jungle personifies electronic music with live instruments (including conga drums!) instead of simply using a laptop, drum pad and synths like most electronic acts. They practice imaginative, quirky ways to create unique sounds and incorporate them in their music; glass coke bottles dangled as clanking chimes for the Heat. They took us on an island holiday with The Heat and Crumbler but their re-occurring sirens reminded us of our current surroundings – the urban jungle of Auckland. 

Spot Maggie Simpson

Laneway organisers had underestimated the reception for Banks as they placed her on a shoebox stage in an area with limited capacity (around 300-400 people).  We squeezed into the 200 square feet enclosure like battery hens. Luckily I was able shimmy myself to the second row – behind two girls who I soon discovered did not know Banks’ music. To be honest, I was not that excited to see Banks because I had seen youtube videos of Banks’ live performances and I cringed at her unsuccessful attempts to be sexy. But boy, Banks made me swallow my words.

I was astonished and impressed when she swaggered on stage with a radiation of sultry poise. I was in complete admiration of her confidence while she prowled around the stage like a panther disguised as a 21^st century femme fatale. But she broke out of her trance after she finished her opening song, Alibi, when a lasting explosion of applause and love occurred in front of her. She thanked us with watery eyes as she was genuinely grateful and shocked by our response to her music.  

The two girls in front of me had blank expressions cemented on their faces throughout the whole show, which frustrated me. The relationship between a musician and the audience is a two way street.   The performer feeds off the energy of the audience and vice versa. When a performer gives you their heart and soul, it is rude to not to reciprocate their efforts – especially if you are at the front where the performer can clearly see you. It’s completely discouraging for the performer when they see you looking bored. It was also unfair for Banks’ true fans that weren’t able to see the show because these ungrateful posers took the front row where a Banks fan could have been.

Banks

On the other hand, there was a plump, sunburnt giant standing front and center with the best view of the stage. He sported a Banks merchandise baseball cap while his Samsung galaxy wore a Banks phone case. Every time I looked to him, he was mouthing every lyric to Banks just incase she forgot them. Although he blocked everyone’s view that stood behind him, he deserved his spot since he was clearly one of Banks’ most devoted fans. 

Banks’ performance was an emotional expedition as she painlessly morphed between states of vulnerability and power. One second, she would sing as sweet as an innocent, pleading child. The next second, her voice would turn to venom while flicking up her middle finger in tribute of her ex-lovers. Banks bequeathed us her divinity as she gave assurance; “Every single one of you is a fucking goddess.” After she left the stage, her confidence remained amongst the audience as people seized her empowering words.

FKA Twigs

As nighttime arrived, people gravitated towards the stage where FKA twigs would be exhibiting an out-of-this-world experience.  The allure of FKA twigs is unexplainable since her music lacks catchiness and excitement but somehow the minimalistic electronic sounds still capture the audience. This time I didn’t bother with sneaking to the front and instead I climbed the scaffolding located 100ft away from the stage. FKA twigs is known for her whimsical staging aesthetic and I decided to watch her performance as an entire painting.  A creature floated through the smoky light like a silhouette puppet moving her twig-like limbs in unnatural ways.  FKA twigs’ swollen braids accentuated the size of her skull and created an illusion of an alien figure like The Fifth Element’s Diva Plavalaguna. I felt I was watching the scene in The Fifth Element where Diva receives a standing ovation for her melancholic-yet-electrifying opera performance.

Despite my respect for FKA twigs as a musician, producer and performer, I became bored with her performance as her slow-tempo songs blurred together with staleness. The most interesting part during the performance was meeting this young woman (I forgot her name) who was ranting about white privilege because a group of white teenage girls pulled her hair and took her spot in the FKA twigs mosh pit. FKA twigs overlapped with RATKING’s set and I now wish I had split my time between those acts.  I admire RATKING’s abrasive version of New York hip-hop but I missed my opportunity to see them and now I can only imagine the ruckus of a RATKING performance.

The end of my first laneway experience came hastily with a taste of Flying Lotus and a bite of St Vincent. I enjoy Flying Lotus’ music but I have prejudices against DJ performances since most of them just play music off their laptop, turn a few dials, slide a couple of nobs.  I tried to give Flying Lotus a chance to impress me but he proved I was right about the limpness of a DJ performance as he simply played his electronic music against a flashy lightshow. He would occasionally interact with the audience with forced small talk such as “Are you guys having fun?” After 10 minutes I left the field of party animals raving to videogame sound effects and preceded towards St Vincent.

St Vincent’s industrial-art-rock exuded a force of vibrancy and futurism with blasts of 80s synths mimicking the dialogue of computers.  She executed her music with robotic, glitchy eye blinks and head turns while her fingers raced along the guitar neck like she was programed to do so. I bet she was hiding her electric wires underneath her translucent skin and pleather Chinese qipao dress.  St Vincent demonstrated that female guitarists shouldn’t be overlooked while her baffling guitar solos trembled with intensity and aggressiveness like 70s punk rock. I reckon St Vincent is more gifted and talented than most male guitarists I’ve seen in concert. It is always inspiring to watch a musician play technically complex music because it makes you think, “How can they play that?! Damn, I wish I could play like that!” St Vincent, please teach me.

By the end of the night, Laneway had become a landfill of plastic cups and unfulfilled expectations.   I had anticipated more than what I received from the Laneway performers and organisers but some performers exceeded my expectations such as Mac Demarco, Banks and St Vincent. I was mainly frustrated with the overlapping performances as I was unable to see my some of my favourite musicians (e.g RATKING).  My first laneway experience was alright – it wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t great. I departed feeling satisfied but with a craving to watch and absorb more live creativity. 

See you next year, Laneway, but please better yourself in the meantime.

- freak out

  

Magical Mangawhai

We deserted the busy metropolis of Auckland for Mangawhai, a peaceful, beachside town. Mangawhai is a place filled with minimal excitement as there is only a beach and a small strip of shops. 

Every day developed into a routine of beach trips, binge eating and relaxing in the spa. We spent our days in our bikinis as we didn't pack enough pairs of underwear for our trip haha. 

 Every night we would drive around Mangawhai, return home to watch a movie,  and have ridiculous conversations as we laid in bed. In the end, whether we are in Auckland or Mangawhai, we always drive around town looking for something to do. 

We witnessed local teenagers making their own fun at a playground (and possibly drinking alcohol). They proudly played their music from their phones and laughed at each other's stupidity while ignoring our presence. 

There was also an elaborate playground and skatepark but the construction was ceased due to financial issues. So the recreational area lays there unfinished as a reminder of Mangawhai's failed dreams. Meanwhile, we worried about the progress of our own dreams and plans for the future. 

Morning runs has its perks

chasing the sun

chasing the moon

exploring tracks and finding beautiful views

flattened the back seats and chilled in a carpark

- freak out

2014 reflections | 2015 resolutions

In 2013, I had began my journey to self-acceptance through Kanye's teachings of self-love. Initially, my self-confidence was just a false front for the world but its grown into a genuine part of me like wild quinine. I didn't achieve anything amazing in 2013 but I obtained self-confidence which would benefit me in 2014...

2014 was the year of self-belief, hard work and determination, which I discovered were vital components of making 2014 a great year. I achieved (most of) my goals before December 31st, which included running the half marathon, getting a job and getting an AUT scholarship. I had my best academic performance (yet) in my last year of school, which coincided with the sacrifice of a portion of my social life (but I'm not bothered about it).  I'm glad I decided to change my subjects from statistics to Media because I uncovered my natural film-making talents with the creation of my documentary, "Following Tumblr Fame."  I also developed and strengthened my skill of "not giving a fuck" about haters, "basic" people, high school popularity and people's opinion of me. Some people would say, "Jess thinks she's better than everyone and thinks very highly of herself." But you know what? I am the best and I'm allowed to be proud of myself.  

Goodbye 2014. I had a great time. 

________________________________________

I've always had idealistic dreams but I've also always questioned whether I could actually accomplish them. Although my goals were simple in 2014,  I've proven to myself I am able to achieve great things. And 2015 is the year of action. 

As I made resolutions for 2015, I asked myself, "How do I want this year proceed? What do I expect out of this year and myself? What are some things I haven't done before?" Of course 2015 will be another year for self-improvement as I aim to eclipse my 2014 achievements and better myself through new experiences. 

My 2015 resolutions

•  Start a zine

I'm frustrated and disappointed in myself for neglecting the formation of my zine in 2014. I've recently revitalised the production process  by developing innovative ideas but hopefully I can continue and uphold my motivation.  I've been asking my friends to contribute but I don't think they're bothered to do anything for it so I will need to nag them. 

• Start a band

Because why not? I love listening, creating and playing music but I won't be studying music at university so I predict musical abilities will slowly deplete. Unless I have musical people to fuel my passion for music. 

• Befriend people with similar interests and ambitions.

I can't wait to meet new people this year.

• Go to more gigs and concerts. 

When I turn 18 this year, I'll be able to go to bars and clubs to watch lesser-known musicians perform and I just want to experience new music without the internet for once. 

• Get a job at real groovy

music, film, books, magazines and vintage clothes... all in one place? Real Groovy is basically a translation of me in a shop form. They're not looking at hiring people until March though. 

• Read more books

I barely finished reading any books in 2014... I didn't give myself the time to read as I was either studying or socialising in my spare time. This year I shall aim to read 50 books.

• Be smart with money

At the moment, I'm spending a majority of my earnings on food and pointless things. I shall not waste money on alcohol and 'going out to town' because those things don't offer any benefits. I would rather spend money on things that would contribute to my future such as education and investments towards my career goals. I also need to save up money for an overseas trip because I need to flee Auckland eventually. I might aim for at least 5500 in the bank account by the end of the year and hopefully by the time I finish university I have saved up enough money to "do shit". 

• Learn to play Debussy's Reverie on piano 

• Compose a piano piece with no technology. Just pen and manuscript paper. 

I've composed pieces only on Sibelius on the school computers, which inserts the notation as you play. But now I don't have access to the technology so I have to revert to the old fashion ways of pen and paper. This is a good exercise to maintain and improve my musicianship - especially if I decide to quit piano lessons this year. 

• Continue to progress my "no-fucks-given-mindset" 

I shall not care about the amount of likes on an instagram post or my Facebook profile picture. I shall not care about the amount of followers I have on instagram. I shall "not give a fuck" about the way I present myself on social media.  (While this being said, I understand I need to improve my social-media-savviness if I want to be successful in my career ventures.) 

• ... and maybe also be able to play Bob Dylan's Mr Tambourine Man on the harmonica

2015 should intimidate me as it consists of my entrance into adulthood but I'm weirdly comfortable with it as it doesn't feel strange saying "2015". 2015 is going to be a great year because I'm going to make it great by creating new experiences, taking advantage of opportunities as well as making my own. Each year, I become more cemented in myself as a person and 2015 will be another year of self-realizations.  I will continue to develop my strong work ethic and skills I attained in 2014 to further progress in my odyssey to success. 

Hello 2015, it's nice to finally meet you. 

- freak out

Live and Let Life

Imagine yourself driving through your neighbourhood where you've spent your adolescent years. You see your-5-year-old-self playing on the playground as you drive past but its not exactly the same as it was 12 years ago. The swings, see-saws and monkey bars have been altered and improved to be more safe yet still exciting for the next generation. You catch the gaze of a young adult in the mirror of the sun visor hanging above you. The eyes are glazed over with worry and excitement as they wonder what they will see in the future. You put your foot down on the brake but your car is rebelling and continuing to speed past your memories. 

A busted brake is a terrifying thought. I had this dream last night of my car brakes not working properly - ironically after I officially graduated from Epsom Girls Grammar School. I don't usually investigate into the meanings of dreams but I naturally realised what my dream was implementing; 

I can't stop the maturation process. 

I've come to grips with the reality I have to grow up and face the world. I'm ready to embrace the opportunities and responsibilities.  As the school year was concluding, I became eager to finish school and say good bye to superficial friendships. I've definitely matured throughout this year as16-year-old-me had strongly resented growing up.  The 16-year-old me would have also focused on maintaining friendships to uphold a certain level of social status (I think that was my mindset last year? or maybe it was 15-year-old me?). The 17-year-old me has learned its more important and satisfying to focus on achieving true happiness, which fake friends and popularity would never provide for me. I've learned to stop caring about what people (who don't matter to me) think about me. I've learned to make friends based on common interests.  I've learned who are my true friends. I've also learned and experienced the beauty of hard work and dedication towards achieving a goal. 

As much as I'm ready to embrace adulthood, I'm also going to just simply enjoy being a teenager this summer. I'm going to savour my last moments of being 17 and not force myself to grow up fast. I can't fight time. I just have to go with the ride. And I'm ready to move onto the next stage of my life and onto bigger and better things (hopefully). 

Although we lose control of things (that we never truly had any control over), we can still steer the car towards our preferred destination. 

Dazed and Confused (1993) 

- freak out

My bittersweet dilemma

Since the beginning of the year, I had envisioned myself studying communications at AUT and possibly doing a business and communications conjoint degree. My plans have been cemented in my mind for the past year and I've already accepted a provisional offer for Communications. I've also been offered a place for their business program but I can only accept a place for one degree. These plans are realistic and easy to accomplish - especially compared to my ambitious career goals of establishing a magazine, record label and ultimately developing an empire. 

However I've encountered a stumbling block along my transition from year 13 student to university student. I've been offered an AUT business scholarship. I wouldn't need to worry about the tuition fees for three years, which is great.  I haven't accepted it yet because I've been having doubts and concerns about my future. I had planned to study communications in my first year before I apply for a conjoint degree with business. AUT rarely accepts students into conjoint degrees straight out of year 13 as they need to judge whether a student can handle a conjoint degree based on their grades in the first year.   The scholarship changes my plans as I have to study business in my first year. I'm worried I'm going to lose the writing and thinking skills I've developed through my school subjects that would benefit my communications studies. All my hard work and dedication to History, English and Media may go to waste. I'm not even a great business student if I'm honest; I'm pretty average. I'm not passionate about business but I do think it is useful in helping me achieve my goal. I'm scared this degree will push me towards an office job.

Communication studies is where my true passions lie.  I'm going to apply for a conjoint after my first year either way but I'm still worried that I may not be able maintain a B minus average in business. If I don't maintain the B minus average then I would not be able to do a conjoint degree and will also lose my scholarship. What if I can't do that? What if I get depressed because I won't be enjoying business and I'd rather be doing communications? What if I decide "screw it, I can't be bothered I'd just stick with business"? What if my writing  and thinking skills decline? What if my career ambitions change and become more realistic? 

I think I will accept the scholarship. I tell myself, "I am going to accept the scholarship otherwise I may appear to be ungrateful. Its a great opportunity." At the same time, as I think I'm becoming more comfortable with idea, there are episodes where I stress out and ask myself, "Is this the right decision?Why am I choosing to study a subject I'm not even great at? I'm good at History, English and Media and I enjoy them so why don't I continue with to develop skills I've learned from them?" These question leads to an emotional downwards spiral, which I try to overcome with Arcade Fire's album, Funeral. 

I feel I should talk to someone and hope they give me insightful advice. Maybe you could give me assurance or guidance? 

- freak out

p.s. I know I could always continue to exercise my skills outside of my studies but I may not have motivation. Hopefully I meet like-minded people that will inspire me to create things - whether it be writing, creating a zine or even making music. I know I'll have to be cautious of who I surround myself with because I don't want lazy people to diminish my drive. I might sound harsh but its true. You have to take the sandbags off the hot air balloon if you want to fly higher.