Tully Considers Hard Work

A friend of mine spent shittons of her time studying for an exam. Ended up getting a negative grade. She's quite smart too, which just led to me letting out a "Huh?!" when I heard about it.

Meanwhile, I studied jack shit for it and I'm probably going to get a similar grade, if not better, because I'm lucky like that. Now, you might be thinking: "Well, that's incredibly self-centered of you to say that".

It is. I am well aware of that. I am also aware that it still holds true. It has, and always will.

I am a smart person. Some might say a brilliant person. However, I do lack drive to do most things (I blame my education as well as myself), which results in me ending up not doing a lot of stuff I really should. You know, like studying.

Take my Intelligence and Personality tests (actual university course tests, not some random internet pop-up). Studied quite literally the day before the first one, scored 17,5/20. Studied THREE days before the second one (and the third one was just me glazing over the PowerPoints), scored 18/20. Not only do I not have to go do the actual exam, my final grade's ending up a rounded up 18.

Did I deserve it? I believe so. Did I work hard for it? Fuck no.

Can you see the issue?

Being a person who truly believes in the fruit of good ol' labor, seeing these results quite literally just pop up out of nowhere is unsettling. I've been dealing with it my whole academic career, really. Hell, I didn't study a day in my 3 years of high school and my final average was 18,1/20. I am not Ozymandias. I am not so über-smart that I can pull this shit. However, seeing as I don't really believe in the concept of luck, it really boils down to skill and personal capabilities.

Does this mean I am more capable than other people? Yes. Yes it does. That perfect world you people want where everyone's the same and everyone can do what everyone else can?

It's not there. You can wake up now. Some of us will leave you in the dust, and others will leave US in the dust. There's always someone better, until you reach the very top, and those are usually savants or people with irregular brain structure.

So, how can I bring my world view and actual results together? I can't. I just have to learn to deal with the fact that sometimes, the world is unfair. Hell, most of the time the world is unfair, if you can even call it that.

The world isn't fair or unfair. The world is.

Tully Considers Persistence

Persistence is a wonderful quality, and one that I am lucky enough to possess. What I do NOT possess, however, is the capacity to activate my persistence.

That's actually pretty darn important, for fairly obvious reasons. To be able to keep going, despite all adversity, has served me well over my life, on many, many times. It could have served me on many more, but I simply can't choose what I persist for.

It's more annoying that anything, really, precisely because the things that "activate" my persistence, per se, are the ones I truly feel for. My Youtube channel, for instance, is one of those things. I could've given up a long time ago. I didn't because fuck fate (and numbers), I have hope.

But some times, I really wish I could activate it at will. When I see something I want done, but simply can't bring myself to care enough for my persistence to activate. When I know something absolutely must happen, yet can't bring myself to get off my fat ass.

It sucks. But I've come to live with it, as with many other things.

Persistence and determination are the key to true happiness. Imagination gives you a goal and tenacity the power to go get it. But it's persistence that paves the road, that gives you the second, third, fourth winds necessary to reach that extra-hard objective. To know this is to know life (clichéd, I know, but that formula works for pretty much anything except extremely specialized stuff like rocket science and applied quantum mechanics).

Tully Considers Happiness

What's happier than being happier? Than feeling that warm, sugary sensation that makes you feel like nothing could go wrong? Nothing, that's what. Who could've known a simple release of endorphins could be so freakin' awesome?

How is one happy? How does one achieve this... perfect state in which the world turns pink and everyone is Robin Williams (I have weird fantasies, sue me)?

I have absolutely no fu**ing idea. It just happens. One day you're walking down the street, then WHAM, you get hit by the happy stick and spend the rest of your day covered in a healthy, warm glow.

There's nothing in the world that's better than being happy. Hell, even a really good lay is merely a stepping stone towards feeling happy until the buildup starts bluing your balls (I'd like to note here that the constant references to getting laid are merely an artistic choice and obviously not resulting from my own sexual repression).

Being happy is an end state, an achievement, a goal, if you will. It's what so many people strive for and fail, what countless others tried to hit and missed, that cherry on the cake you just can't seem to remove from the frosting without the bridesmaid wacking you upside your head with a folded up newspaper.

It's something indescribable. It, like a machine, is much more than the sum of its part and, as such, could never properly be defined, for it changes from person to person. It's an abstract, ever-present concept that makes our lives better.

So, try to get there. Go out and make yourself heard, yell out in the wind if you have to! Cut loose, put on your Sunday shoes and try not to do anything that would get you arrested! Make the world know that today you'll be happy, godamnit!

Because it's YOUR DAY! YOUR FREAKIN' DAY! AND YOU BLOODY DESERVE IT!

NOW GO OUT THERE AND GET IT!

...

Pardon me, I get excited sometimes and forget I'm supposed to be a cynic.

See you next time. Thank you for tuning in.

Tully Considers Politics

I have absolutely nothing to say about politics.

Weird, right? I'm 19 years-old, I should have every damn opinion in the world! I should be able to recite dissertations by heart, argue like a Greek philosopher, make damn sure everyone in the world knows my opinion matters, even though I've only recently been considered responsible enough to participate in the democratic process.

But that's the thing. I know many, many people who think they understand politics. People my age. People who are idiots. As far as I'm concerned, unless you spend half your day watching the national assembly and studying political theory, you don't know jack sh*t and can't say otherwise. When your argument is "The government is bad because the government is bad", I'm just going to look away and start ignoring you.

If you're reading this, a rather specific person who this happened to, you can stay pissed all you want, that's not going to change the fact that you're an arse.

I don't pretend to understand politics, at least beyond a very superficial understanding of the concept of realpolitik (basically, that a country is simply looking for its own interests and every other country should be doing the exact same). All I do know is that every politician is looking towards himself first, the electorate second. This isn't a critique. This is basic human psychology. You can't expect anyone to consistently place others over themselves. Our brain doesn't work that way.

But I won't say anything else, precisely for the same reason I don't discuss religion: I don't care. I'm an apatheist (also known as a pragmatic atheist, though I truly HATE that definition) as well as a nonpartisan precisely because I couldn't give two shits about who's ruling the country, as long as they do it properly. Hell, I've been known to advocate despotism at times, if only because then we'd have something who has a vested interest in keeping things running on an equal level for everyone but him/herself. Justice through injustice and all that.

But I have nothing to say. I'm 19 years old and still have never seen a boob in real life, so why the hell should I be able to discuss politics?

See you next time. Thank you for tuning in.

Tully Considers Hidden Depths

There's this thing called hidden depths. TV Tropes has an article on it. Here's a pothole.

Seriously, though, who really believes that things are as they seem to be at first? I know at least three people like that. My mother's one. It gets pretty hilarious. But seriously now.

This trope exists because it's true. Things are never as they seem, nor can we really apprehend the truth about something with simple observation. In fact, as it is been repeatedly hammered into my head these past couple of months, the truth about something can never be known, at least in its entirety. What we can have are approximations to the truth. And that's where we have this trope.

See, we can't really act like ourselves in society without getting shunned. It doesn't matter how many after-school specials or educational programs you've watched. Hell, I'm a brony and I'm telling you this outright: with rare exceptions, acting like you are, deep down (in other words, revealing your hidden depths), will get you bad results.

Society demands a template, a template you must adhere to if you want to get anything done. Just as you cannot go around questioning everything and using the scientific method, you cannot go around acting like you want to act. Even if what you want to do isn't illegal, it'll still be something other people don't like, and if other people don't like it, well then, you're screwed. It's Outcast Land for you, buddy.

Welcome. It's been lonely.

So, we adapt. We take in what others want us to be and we don a mask. For some it's easier than other. Others still will actually become the mask (which is a trope in of itself). But deep down, most of us have depths we don't want to reveal, be that because we're shy, be that because we're afraid of rejection or be that because we're just plain lazy.

But, right there, is where we have friends. People who take a good long look at you, see where your depths are and nod. And you nod after doing the same. That's what a friend is, really. Someone who will look at your hidden depths and accept them. Because that's what a friend does.

See you next time. Thank you for tuning in.  

Tully Considers Hope

What is hope? Some might say that it's the will to keep fighting when everything else is gone. Others (like me) might like to say it's the ability to be eternally optimist despite overwhelming evidence that you really, really shouldn't be. Still others might say it's what happens when you wanna get laid and you're nothing but a poor 3.

I've actually heard someone say that. One wonders what values they're teaching kids nowadays. Yes, she was 13. *shivers*

What is hope, though, if not a different definition depending on who you ask, if they can even answer you. It's like love. Undefinable, yet everyone knows what it means. Existence's finest oxymoron.

Let's drop the whole pretentious intellectual thing for a moment here and actually discuss what hope is, at least to me. Hope is what drives my brain, at least in its current form. It's not what gets me up in the morning (that's coffee and the desire to change the world for the better. Also, conquer Poland), but it is what gets me going when things look tough (that and coffee too. Can't have enough coffee).

I really can't define it. It's more of a gut feeling than anything else, something I instinctively know, but don't comprehend. Something that pokes me in the nose and goes "Keep going, dude, you'll get there. Eventually". And that's all you really need, isn't it? Your own brain, your own self telling you to keep going, even if your conscious mind doesn't want to.

Because deep down, you have hope. Hope that stuff will be better, hope that stuff will change. Hope that, in some point in the future, things will be different. And once you have that, you can try and make that difference happen. We're all players in a chess board, not actors on a stage. What we do isn't programmed (at least not in my opinion), so our own hopes and dreams can be made real through sufficient application of endurance and stubbornness. Because the world isn't immutable. The world changes, and we change with it.

But, what is hope? Whatever you want it to be, really, as long as it keeps you going. True hope isn't negative (unless of course you happen to have a severe psychological condition, in which case, please contact a psychologist or a psychiatrist. The step to recovery begins at admission), but something beautifully positive.

One day, I hope to be a writer. And I'll make that happen. Because Tully Burnalot is Portuguese and our answer to "Ottomans are blocking the way" was "Go around fu**ing Africa, I don't give a shit".

See you next time. Thank you for tuning in.

Tully Considers Subways

Yes, you heard that right. Have you never really thought about subways? Like, "think" think about subways?

You wake up in the morning, take the subway. Get crammed in with dozens of people. Drunk, sober, high, sober, drunk AND high, sober, smelly, all at 8 am. Truly, Portugal is the greatest country in the world.

But, they're still one of the greatest things to ever happen. Seriously, think about it. You go deep underground, catch an underground, electric train and zip around beneath a city until you emerge half a mile away. And, if you're lucky, you can actually do that while sitting down.

That's what matters here. Subway time is downtime. You can't do anything useful when you're using the subway. Anything productive, at least. I heard some people here over at shrink school use that time to analyze people they see (because, obviously, as first year students, they're masters of psychology and their opinions are true and wise, /sarcasm). Others yet use that time to read or write (yours truly). Others still might use that time for a quick lay (yes, that's going to be a running gag, get used to it).

It's all over in minutes. Soon enough, you'll forget you even used the damned thing, and go about your life as if nothing special happened.

In many ways, using the subway is like taking a dump. Think about it. It actually makes sense.

The exception, of course, is when you have intestinal problems, but that's a different thing we will NOT be talking about here.

So, the thing here is how to use that downtime. How to be productive in those 10-20 minutes of desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with strangers who might want to take your money and/or valuables. I'll go with personal experience here: my current manuscript was written primarily while using the subway and my country's train service. Roughly 90% of the thing was written on rail, which is why the story's so bumpy (I am so sorry for this horrible pun).

This can be extended to all downtime, really, including "bored time" (read below). Whenever I'm bored, I begin a project, which invariably leads to my hard drive being filled with half-baked, half-finished crap (including about 3 or 4 fanfics that I'm really not proud of). But the point of beginning the project, at least to me, isn't to finish it. Stuff I do while I'm bored isn't meant to last, it's meant to be a temporary distraction. Whenever I want to do something serious, I actually decide to do so without any external variables. And that's all that matters.

Because when you're bored, you either think and go down the drain, or find something to fill your time with. And whatever that is can be anything. The possibilities are endless, infinite. Hell, I once took up sparrow hunting for three weeks (final count: 8. Still feel terrible). But whatever it is doesn't matter. What matters is that you're occupied. Busy work. Useless work.

And that's what you do in the subway. To avoid having to concentrate on the sweat, or the alcohol breath. And that's what you do at home, to avoid having to think. To avoid having to fixate on useless stuff, on stuff that makes your brain hurt and your head incapable of sleeping.

And that's why I write a blog.

See you next time. Thank you for tuning in.