Where I Stand

Have you ever read something from somebody, and wonder why they stopped writing? Usually when I investigate why a writer stops being a writer I find they've moved on to something more permanent, death. Recently I remembered that I once wrote a few short blog entries and received a few quick views, and while almost everyone of the pieces of feedback I got were positive in nature I stopped, and only now have I figured out why, though as my dusty old blog description states, it is truly moronic.

Most people are afraid to fail. The idea that what they put their hopes and dreams into might not work out and leave them on the losing end of a huge gamble, is enough to keep people from trying. This was never the case for me. I never had a problem with failure, in fact I sought it out. I never got along with many people, in fact, my sixth grade math teacher reviled me so much that he told the entire class that i was "never going to make anything of myself". I'm much older now, and realize how ridicules it is for a 30 year old man, that teaches out of closet sized classroom, to tell a twelve year old he should give up on life. Unfortunately at the time I believed him, how could I not? No matter what anyone says an educator is much like a parent, we all want to impress our teachers, and when your first experience as a middle school student is a man who in essence is telling you to go kill yourself, life starts to get tough. I don't truly believe that my sixth grade math teacher wants me dead, but the concepts of giving up, and suicide are not that far apart.

Wow, got deep there.... Lets pull up.

The point im trying to make is that from a young age I learned to define myself by my failures, failure was easy. When you succeed at something the next question is 'Now what?', but if you fail you have a multitude of excuses you can use ranging from 'I'll get it next time', to 'It was stupid anyway'. I'm not saying failure is good, far from it, I'm saying failure is easy. When I was twelve I looked at success building something that someone could tear down; rather then go through that I found it easier to hide, so nobody could criticize me.

I'm twenty-one now, and I've had an epiphany, I've seen the worst of it. I'm not afraid to talk to women, the worst they can do is reject me. I'm not afraid to go on a stage in front of a large crowed, the worst they can do is boo me. I'm not afraid of posting my thoughts on a blog, the worst that could happen is a rough comment. What I'm truly afraid of is giving up, what I fear most is neve regretting to be me, because I think I'm not worth it, and I've already done that. Nothing can hurt me anymore, because the worst is over, and one day I'm going to succeed, and its all going to be worth it, I just got to keep trying.

I know this is a heavy return to my blog, but if this is going to be an exploration of concepts authored by me, I think its best we all know where I come from. Oh and by the way, my sixth grade math teacher really does teach out of a room the size of a small bedroom now, because the school board can't fire him, so they're minimizing the damage. Everyone knows he's a failure in his craft, it explains a lot.

A Zombie's Ego

I like Zombie movies. Which is weird because I’m not a fan of gore. Indeed, though I lack the lust for flying, dismembered arms, heads, and pinky toes, I have always enjoyed a cut and dry Zombie film. Zombie films are a genre that everybody enjoys because of its stereotypes. The fearless, gun totting hero, the constantly sweaty, tank topped teen, the mouthy pain in the ass that pusses out and dies, and the shotgun wielding old guy that inevitably utters the words “I’m too old for this shit”. These are characters we love, and combined with the guiltless pleasure that we as humans enjoy add up to a good ol’ zombie film. These reasons, however, are not the reason I love Zombie films.



No the guilty secret is that I love zombie movies because they make me feel better. Kind of like the reason we like superheroes, but in reverse. That is to say that I’m better then normal, just that everyone else is dummer. I know its slightly egocentric, but who doesn’t like to feel special? Who doesn’t want to be the one that survived when the world falls apart? I know KT would disagree with me when I say that everybody wants to be better then everybody else. It’s natural to want to be the best, the alpha.



It’s only my opinion, but I don’t think people love blood and violence, I think people love power. We love it when an action star fires a shotgun blast not because we love shotguns, or the death they bring, but the fact that the hero has that power under control, and because we imagine ourselves as the hero, we have that power. It is one of my long-standing beliefs that there is no good our evil in this world, just different levels of power.



It’s a complex idea, ill write more on it later.

Hey Guys

Hey guys, im sorry

Today is an apology, for one, i let you down. Whenever a prominent blogger i like says that exams are "kicking my ass" and that they aren't going to post fora a week, i've thought "Well you're a pussy". Yet here i am, near a week after my last post, and my excuse is exams. I under estimated their power, and over estimated mine. But, i still could have talked to you guys. the fact is, i didn't think about it. So many times I've found myself doing little more then whatever the flavor of the minute is. I promised you that it would be different, that I'd stick with this blog. The truth is I wouldn't have blogged right now if one of my friends hadn't reminded me to.

I don't know if it's a human thing, to focus on so many things at once, yet only do whatever you're thinking about at that second, but thats how I feel. So many times I've dropped something because it was hard, or because it was forgotten, the truth is my focus is crap, and my will power sucks ass.

I missed you guys, and from here on I'm making a vow. I CHRIS ZEDMAN, WILL NEVER FORGET YOU. I might not post every day, but I won't ignore you. Because in the end you, are me, and this is my Journal. I missed you guys.

Im Still Alive

So in an hour I've done four-hundred words our so on my film essay, at this rate i should be done in about a couple hours.

Alright back to WORK!!!!!

So i messed up, i let you guys down, and i let myself down, but that doesn't mean the work just goes away, so here it goes live from East Sussex, The Wacky Wanderer, The Bad Boy Blogger, Chrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiissssssss ZEDMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (cheering crowd)

Thats it no more exuses, no more distractions, except you guys of course. LETS DO THIS!!!!,

be back in hour to post progress.

24 Hour Recap

So my extravaganza kind of failed, only got six essays done, and past out 12 hours in, but ill be working hard tomorrow.

Good news: my views spiked, YAY!!!!!

History

Incase you were wondering what going to class is like after being awake for twenty four hours, it kind of goes like this:

Walk in, sit down, open computer, internet is down, click the internet icon again, and agian and again, doesn't work,bang head against desk, read comics till teacher enters the room, totally forgot what I was doing, left the comics up on my screen until Good Looking Upper Year sits next to me, GLUY (wow name change needed, how about Sexy Upper Year) so SUY, (not GLUY) sees comics, looks at me, im pretty sure im drooling at this point, looks back at comic, then back to me, it clicks that the comic may not be all that impressive to her, i close it, she giggles, WHOLE CRAP TEACHER ATTACK WITH NOTES, CAN"T FOCUS ON ONE TOPIC, and the notes are done, he talks for what seems like days,  still an hour left in class.