Ballad for a Hipster

(Me as Adam Ant!)
(70s/80s fans….. anyone!?)
This was the hipstery-est thing I could find… I am yet to figure out how to actually get better pictures for this!!! So this’ll do for now!

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Ugh- Each day is such a struggle,
from clothes to what I eat.
I do not know what to do with,
these standards I must meet.

When I wake up in the morning,
I just cannot decide.
Do I step out on the left or
*sigh*, the mainstream right side?

Choosing breakfast isn’t easy,
it isn’t fun for me.
Do I gorge myself on corn flakes?
Or go for gluten free?

I really have no clothes to wear,
that show my inner means.
I am reckless cool and edgy,
I’ll wear my ripped up jeans.

I have to check my Facebook page,
Ugh, my friends are the worst.
They keep talking about Deadpool,
Really? I was the first.

Oh my god, there’s the boy I like,
I’ve stalked his Instagram.
I know everything about him,
For breakfast: he had ham.

But I can’t let him know I know,
that simply isn’t me.
Besides, it is far too common,
that sexuality.

I’m pansexual, pangender,
pan-species, pan-knowing.
Pan-emotional, pan-healthy,
pan-trendy, pan-winning.

I don’t appreciate most posts,
on the web, and so hence:
I’ll come up with a drawn-out way,
to show I take offence.

You just don’t get my first world life,
the price I have to pay.
I’m with the new generation,
Stop being old, okay?

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Topic 1: Motivation

Throughout my entire life I have been horrifically cursed with lack of motivation. Whether it is for art, writing, homework, or even socializing.

Through trial and error, I have come up with a few ways to generate motivation!

 

Clean your environment!

– If there is one thing I know for sure, it is that clutter creates stress. (Unless you are a hoarder!) Having a neat desk and a tidy room makes me think of a clean slate. It is not only refreshing, but makes me feel good about myself.
– Bonus: Cleaning your computer desktop, favourites bar, and various other menus can help you feel less claustrophobic. I find that the constant search-around with my mouse can almost be just as stressful as having clutter on my desk.

Get rid of anxious thoughts!

– Worried about someone/something? Don’t know if you’ll make a deadline on time? Stop! Take some time just to freeze in place and brainstorm your solutions. You may have more time than you actually think to solve a problem, especially if it is to do with another Human being. Bad choices come from rushed decisions.
– Use your creative time as a chance to escape the real world, think of only your craft and nothing more. Think of it as a safe-haven. In your new state of mind, nobody can touch you. Allow this serenity to channel your creativity and motivation combined.

Nourish yourself appropriately!

– I love food; food is my comfort. A good way to feel motivated and ‘ready to go!’ is to know that your body does not need to be fed or watered. It is something that you do not need to satisfy or quench any time soon. Think of it as something you have checked off your check list.
– Good grub or a delicious smoothie can really help you feel good about yourself, and generally happy! Eating should always be a pleasant experience.

Exercise (Ew!!!)

– Probably the least popular thing to do, (and even I struggle to keep up with it at times), but going to the gym, working out at home, or even downloading an app to keep your exercising daily -really- helps you feel good about yourself.
– When I first got into routine at the gym each morning, I felt not only like an adult, but I felt like someone who really cares about -me-. I was making my body healthier and making good decisions, which ultimately helped in increasing my motivation.

Gear up!

– When working on art or literature, wearing comfy clothes is a MUST. Throughout my life, I was very self conscious about my appearance, so just throwing on a comfy hoodie really made me just forget what was below my neck. Wear something that makes you feel comfortable.
– Make sure your outfits are fit to a point where you aren’t constantly fidgeting with them either! Pulling up your pants and adjusting your shirt can really pile the stress on over time. ESPECIALLY don’t wear something which you feel the need to constantly suck your tummy in.

Get gabbin’

– There is psychological and scientific evidence out there that proves Humans release stress through ranting and talking about their dilemma. Be it a concern, a worry, an experience, or even something that excites you- tell someone about it! It’s good to feel like you are being heard, because ultimately, you can feel confident to take it further!
– Just make sure you pick someone appropriate to talk to. A few people to consider are:
1. Family
2. Friends
3. School Councillors
4. Elders
5. Bloggers!!! (Reach out to them, you never know who’ll reply!) HINT HINT
– And so on!

Love yourself

– I know this is the corniest one, but it’s the only one out of the previous that you really can’t not do.
– If you don’t believe you can do something, then you won’t be able to give it your whole.
– Take a positive approach, and don’t be afraid to fail.
– Treat yourself with respect and dignity: and see what wonders you are capable of.
– Be mature enough to accept criticism and learn from it rather than feel defensive and inadequate.
– Improve yourself, become stronger, aim high, learn tolerance, and learn patience. There’s a lot of time left in this world, don’t think you have to accomplish everything all at once.

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Yours truly… Alquarien

 

#0 How to Can’t

This was another school project, the topic was ‘justified’, where we had to come up with a dilemma and justify it in second person.

I enjoyed writing this and presenting it to my classmates, perhaps I will turn it into a series of first world problem ‘shorts’.

Bio
Blueberry muffin? Or chocolate croissant?

Your first world problems kick in. Do you seek a mouthful of berry-goodness? Or a cheeky blend of flaky pastry and creamy chocolate?

Your hear the clearing of the cashier’s throat and the shuffling of four pairs of brown, $300 Uggs behind you. A bead of  sweat rolls down from your forehead as the pressure is on, mixed with the heat of coffee brewing and lemon-grass moisturizer in the air around you.

With haste, you point to the blueberry muffin, believing it will tell the dread-lock-ridden ‘dude’ beside you that you make healthy choices in your life.

As you are handed the bagged muffin, you traipse toward the nearest vacant seat in order to commence the dining of your over-priced cake.

Such a difficult decision, such stress, such anxiety…

… You couldn’t even.

#0 Frankly Teaser

This was written as a quick manuscript for school. The objective was to simply introduce the character and genre- and follow a commandment. The commandment was-
‘Breaking into a car’ (I know… odd.)

The ending of this is a bit rushed due to not only my time running out- but we were also limited to only two, double-spaced pages.

I hope you enjoy this!

Bio

Disney Disaster

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” I mutter, noticing a strange white mark on the back of my car. It was the remnants of a sticker that had been incorrectly torn off, leaving behind its sticky underbelly in a most unflattering manner. It was a silly little Mickey Mouse car sticker that I got on my third trip to Disney a few months ago; it didn’t bother me too much that it had been taken, but I still wanted to know why. I suppose living in Florida has its downsides; maybe people are just sick of seeing Disney? Or… maybe they can’t get enough of it.

Peering to my right was the downright oddest thing. A tiny red Beatle car, I didn’t care to check for any form of year or make (because I simply don’t care about cars that much), but there was something particularly odd about this car. From wheel to roof, the car was destroyed with Disney stickers. For all I know it could have been a blue car, but the amount of Minnie and Mickey stickers really set a different theme.

“Well, I suppose that really narrows my options as to where my sticker went.” I state in an exhale. The more I looked at the car, the more it annoyed me. I could care less about my sticker, but it was the fact that –that- person might have taken it. Shifting my gaze left and right, I scanned the parking lot for any signs of life. Other than a mother loading her horde of children into a minivan a few rows away, I was alone… and so I approach.

Reaching out, I grasp the handle of the passenger door to the Disney-disaster of a car. Wait, what was I doing? I pondered to myself. A satisfying click is heard as the handle wasn’t frozen in a locked position. My body settles and my shoulder shrug. If she was silly enough not to lock the car, I almost didn’t feel as bad. Then again, I am sure anyone would be repelled from even getting in a ten-foot radius of the vehicle.

The car door lets out an annoying squeal as it is opened, followed by what looked like an avalanche of plastic. Stacks upon stacks of Starbucks coffee-cups, all signed with different Disney-princess names: poorly spelled of course, for I wasn’t sure who ‘Cinderooli’ or ‘Rapronzil’ were. A blast of hot pineapple stench hits my nostrils like a slap in the face as I duck into the car: The culprit? An ‘Aloha’ air freshener shaped like a surf-board hanging from the rear-view mirror, but not just one, there was certainly about ten.

My body froze, not only because of the combination of disgust and impending doom of being caught, but also because of the fact I literally could no longer move forward due to the clutter. This car truly was the outcome of putting an entire Disneyland gift shop in a singular, tight space. The worst had not come yet, alas.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Comes a very deep voice from behind me. My bets were on it being a police officer or security guard. Turning around, I would have never expected to see just whom I saw.

Standing at a height of six foot and weighing a grand-total of all 101 Dalmatians put together, was a middle-aged man. Reaching into his Buzz Lightyear utility belt, he withdraws his weapons of choice: a Mickey-Mouse fly swatter and a spray bottle of factor nine-hundred sun cream. Now was definitely the time to run. I leap out of the small vehicle and start dashing away as fast as I physically could.

All I could hear were the distant yells of PG 13 insults as I outran him in the first few seconds. He could keep the silly sticker, I don’t think I could ever look at Disney merchandise the same after all that.

Who am I?

My name is Gabrielle Jensen, though I go by the name of ‘Alquarien’ through my work.

Why the name Alquarien? Well! I developed it through a -little- game called, World of Warcraft, which actually served as my crippling addiction for 11 years, so it’s bittersweet to keep the name alive, I suppose. Anyway, it was my Night Elf Priest’s name, and it just stuck.

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Any-who, this is me, Gabrielle, though most of my closer friends call me ‘Goobi’. The nickname developed from ‘cool memes’ and regretfully stuck all the way through to maturity. Now I am forever cursed among my fondest companions.

Origins
I was born in Yorkshire, England, and still actually hold my British accent even though I traveled around a lot. I spent a grand total of perhaps a year or two in England itself which typically surprises people. I spent most of my life actually living on a little island within the Middle East known as, Bahrain.

Bahrain is and was a very calm and quiet place. Up until recently, the hot-spot (ironically) was an ice-skating rink on the very edge of the country. I didn’t get out much, and I didn’t make many friends either. I was practically trapped on my computer.

School Life
The only way to make friends in the quiet little island, was to really push oneself into immense extrovert demeanor. Being that I was one of the longest-remaining denizens of Bahrain for my age, I had to watch a lot of people leave or be re-assigned to other countries. Making friends was hard, and I couldn’t keep them for more than 2-3 years.

Sadly, one of the first times I actually pushed out to make a friend, they turned into my worst nightmare. From the age of 11 all the way until about 15, I was bullied to a horrific extent for not only being introverted, but also for being half-American. The bullying got to such a terrible point, that I had to be escorted to my classes by a school security guard. It was then that I realized sitting behind my desk was my safest option.

The Internet
My dad was quite the gamer, introduced to various games by his coworker. I used to play with my dog on the carpet behind his desk while watching the screen flicker with various intriguing activities.

There was one game that stood out among others though. World of Warcraft- The bane of many introverts. At first, it was just an experiment; I was only 9 at the time, I couldn’t play it properly at all. My dad used to let me fish on his character in exchange for pocket money in the real world. A fantastic deal, to be honest.

While dad was at work, I would be ringing him up at a constant with various questions like- “What do I do in the second quest?”, or, “How do I invite people to my group?”. Although it really annoyed my dad, I know for a fact that he was somewhat glad I was safe at home instead of out with a ‘bad crowd’.

Playing Warcraft continued, and literally never stopped. I missed loads of opportunities to make new friends. I missed loads of events. I missed real life happiness. My first meaningful and physical relationship didn’t start until I was twenty.

Art and Literature
One thing that really helped my through my struggles with introvert life, was certainly art and writing. As soon as I got into Warcraft, I also got into role-playing and story writing.

There was something about creating an online persona to interact with people that felt so right. It felt as if I could live a whole new life in this fantasy world. Don’t get me wrong, my family gave me a fantastic life. I wish I could go back to show them how much I appreciated what they provided for me. What I mostly wanted though, was self confidence. It’s one thing being given all the tools to create a great life for yourself, but it’s another thing trying to form the confidence and motivation to actually use them.

I role-played from lunch to dinner, then from dinner all the way until breakfast the next day. I refused to sleep, I was so addicted to talking to people all over the world and forming this long-distanced social life that felt so real to me in every way, shape, and form. One thing I kept from that experience all the way until now is horrific, black bags under my eyes. No make up in the world can reverse those! (But if you know a way, do let me know.)

My parents didn’t appear to like what I was doing, but we always relied on the motive- ‘at least she isn’t doing drugs or hanging out with bad people’. Heck, my dad even agreed to pay for my subscription if I agreed not to do stupid things to my body. It was a fair trade. Essentially, I was a perfect child other than the fact I was lifeless. I was obedient, I had good grades, I was healthy, safe, smart, I appeared happy… but one thing I always kept to myself was that I wasn’t happy with myself. I felt regret.

Art and literature was my way of feeling self-appreciation. There were days when I would wallow around in self-pity, and then suddenly produce a piece of art. The likes and comments I received from my creations was almost intoxicating. Knowing that people appreciated me, when I barely appreciated myself, was too good to be true. I developed, and developed, and developed, until I could sell my work- which gave me immense happiness.

America
Building my confidence wasn’t such an easy thing to do. Even when I moved to America a few years ago, I didn’t feel all too great about myself. At first I believed ‘a new country, a new start’, but that wasn’t the case at all. High School was a total disaster. Although I did make a friend or three, that I believe I will never lose, I felt like I was almost reliving my younger days.

Basically, I was segregated for having a British accent. People were fascinated by me, but that was it. I always got the typical- “Ooh, say this!”, “Do you watch Doctor Who?”, “Do you like tea?”… and that was it. There was no relationship-building… no in-depth learning of who I am. I was British, and that was who I was… not Gabby… I was British.

College wasn’t all too different, but you’re not really given much opportunity to make friends there. Classes were short; you weren’t allowed to talk. There were a few times where I thought I could push myself to make friends, but it ultimately just made me more anxious.

Slowly, I started to creep into online classes, trying to stop physical classes altogether to avoid the nervousness that came from interacting with other people… it had to stop.

Volunteering
Community Involvement. That was the class I took in the spring of 2016 at the age of 20. It was one of the classes which seemed like it was just going to be an easy A for doing minimal work… boy was I wrong. Little did I know, that class was about to change my life.

I was a nervous wreck, clutching to my phone for dear life. Honestly, I treated that device like an oxygen tank. Whilst appearing all tensed up, someone actually spoke out to me. I looked up to see a man around my age sat down by the side of the classroom, waiting for it to open. I was so caught up in my phone and blocking out the outside world that I didn’t hear what he said.

I pulled out an awkward face from my plethora of ‘faces to make when you don’t really understand how to be a Human being like everyone else’. He smiled and repeated what he said. He was asking for the time of the class, which I replied to appropriately. I thought that was it- but then he asked another question! He asked why I was taking the class.

My sweat was sweating, and I was trying my best not to look at my phone as a safe haven. I replied with something typical like “seems like an easy class, you?” The way he spoke told me that he was a confident person, and it radiated over me like fresh sunshine! (Something I am having to take in vitamin D pill-form due to never going outside.. ha.) He was elaborate, and certainly knew what he was talking about.

I gotta stick to this person like glue somehow, I wanted to learn how to talk like that to a complete stranger. Sadly as we sat down, I pulled out my phone and dove into the internet to recover from the heart-attack I was about to have due to conversing with someone I didn’t know.

The whole class-period, all I could think about was different way to chat to this person after class. Would it be weird to say “Hello” a second time? Would he find me annoying if I started chatting to him out of random? Maybe he only spoke to me earlier because he was bored- or thought I might have been a chatty person. These are the kinds of dilemmas introverts are faced with… what do you say!?

At some point in the class period a volunteering opportunity plopped up. The Brevard Renaissance Fair, (Faire, it feels so weird typing American-English). Like a torpedo, I launched at the guy who spoke to me before class and asked him if he would like to cooperate with me at the Fair. To my delight, he agreed! (I even got his number!). He walked me alllll the way to my car- well, we parked next to each other sorta- (It was fate!)

As soon as I came home, I told my mother that I actually reached out to someone, and the only thing she could tell me (other than how proud she was of me) was- DO NOT TALK ABOUT WARCRAFT.

The weeks went by, and I really put myself out there with the Renaissance jobs. I ended up doing over 150 hours in two weeks (which I will blog about in different posts). As my friendship with this new person and volunteer group grew, as did my self-confidence and appreciation.

Romance
It’s almost baffling to think that if I didn’t ‘torpedo’ out to that guy on the very first day of meeting him, I might not be as happy as I am right now. Heck, I might have even quit the Community Involvement class altogether due to lack of self-confidence. He was shocked to find out I had never had an actual physical boyfriend before, and was humbled to be my first. It was incredibly good karma/fate/destiny/luck that I managed to reach out to a genuinely good person straight off the bat.

Journalism and Blogging
At first I wanted to be a Video Game designer, due to my addiction to Warcraft. But slowly over the Spring term of 2016, I realized that was a silly reason. It gave me a lot of anxiety to think about designing games, because it wasn’t really my passion. I liked to play games, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to go through programming and design classes in order to pull it off.

The military became an option for a while. The air-force in particular. My new friends and family talked it up quite a lot. It seemed like a great place to go in order to acquire life-long skills and confidence. Besides, I was failing math and getting my masters in Game Design was looking as good as roadkill in a ditch on a dreary day.

Then it hit me… I like to write…. I’ve been writing since I was able to use a keyboard… what could I possibly do to turn my interests into a career? Journalism.

From that moment forward, I have been aspiring to do the very best I can to try and make Journalism my career. From writing reports, to advertising, to writing short stories. I will do whatever it takes to feel accomplished.

With this new-found confidence, I am looking forward to my journey ahead. 
-Gabrielle Jensen

What am I getting myself into?

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After speaking to a career guidance councilor about my passion for journalism, I felt truly motivated to start all this up… there was just one thing I wasn’t prepared for.

Facebook! Twitter! LinkedIn! Sign up! Sign up! Sign up!

Being so detached from social media, I had no idea what I was about to plunge into. Initially I thought there was going to be maybe a website or two I would have to sign up for in order to get the ball rolling- but apparently I needed about five or seven different programs running all at once!

It’s going to be a rocky start, but I feel like I can at least post once… maybe twice a week to keep motivated and up to date.

Here’s to hoping I don’t drown under all these memberships!