Tech and Ramen

Dark roast is always the way to go. I gave my answer without hesitation. “Which one?” he asked. I wasn’t prepared for the second choice, but I responded with a clever, “which one do you recommend?” He began to describe the Indian dark roast. Earthy is an adjective that I often hear when someone describes coffee, but he didn’t stop with this. “It reminds me of walking on wet asphalt during a hot day; the steam rises from the surface and warms your entire body. It isn’t unpleasant, in fact quite the opposite. The steam has a certain smell, and the coffee has that sort of earthiness.”

“I’ll have that.”
Continue

My days are spent fighting off a growing wave of bitterness that could take control at any moment.

Most understand what it feels like to settle for the path of least resistance. Many fail to do what makes them happy on a daily basis. We sensor our dissatisfaction, until it explodes behind the scenes, causing stress and emotional anguish. We take full time jobs doing things that we don’t care about because we are told that having a shitty job is better than having no job at all. We are told that doing things we hate will pay off in the from of security.

I hate the security game. Few stop to compare the value of security to the value of happiness and the consequences of losing each. It’s loss that we fear, losing the house, losing the job, losing a loved one, or losing security. Most don’t understand what it is like to lose happiness because they’ve never truly experienced it. I’ve never truly experienced it. The security game is simple; it starts with a compromise. “I love writing, but there’s no money in it, so I’ll study Mathematics instead.” This compromise costs 4 years and $20,000, but the reward is security which serves as an awesome dessert to the 4 years of the shitty main course.

The Cake is a Lie

This dessert never comes. The security never comes. The shitty major leads to a shitty job, because getting a job is what you do after college. It’s only a temporary job, one that will provide some cash that will eventually allow you to pursue your passion. There’s no happiness here, but it’s only temporary…until it isn’t. My mind can only comprehend sacrifice, because sacrifice is all that it knows to do. The frustration with this manifests itself in the form of bitterness and anger. The resentment can be stifled but at the cost of mental stability. Instead of the desired security all that results is loneliness, anger, and boredom.

Which is more devastating, the death of a close friend or the loss of a job? Does it pain us more to live without money or to live without people? Consider your greatest passion, then consider how much money someone would have to offer you to give it up forever. Your responses should indicate what truly takes priority in your life. Why do most new members of the workforce only remain with a company for a few years? It’s amazing how little money it takes to convince someone to change jobs when there is no passion involved. If a person was passionate about the projects that they were trying to ship would a few extra bucks make them abandon it forever? Could a few extra bucks influence you to abandon your friends? You wouldn’t abandon these things because these things are important.

The Cost of Losing Security

My mind works in worst case scenarios, always imagining a collapsing sky. This thought process often leads to seemingly “safe” decisions, but it’s this same thought process that is helping me to see the flaws with these decisions. Losing a job is often devastating, and being poor is less that desirable. We all fear these things, but consider the consequences of losing the money battle. Losing wealth or a job is met with support from friends and family. If one is loved then losing money doesn’t mean losing security. If one works with people who truly care and uses his or her passion to make connections then he or she will never sleep in the cold. A true friend would never let anyone sleep in cold. What remains when one loses the job that he has sacrificed his friends and happiness for? Nothing, not money nor support remain. This is true insecurity. This is what should be feared. This is what will kill you.

It’s time to be selfish, to act in a way that brings personal satisfaction. This isn’t some satanist philosophy but a plea to reason. When we follow our own passions and ignore the screeching voice that calls for more money we are rewarded with strong social bonds, happiness, and oddly enough security. If one fights hard enough to do what they love, the money will come. If it doesn’t, cut out the things that are not necessary to follow your passion. Very little money is needed to live. Very little money is needed to follow your passion.

Well, all of this is great, but how do I pull it off?

You have to fight everyday. It’ll require disappointing a lot of people, but in the end you’ll find that these people would find a reason to be disappointed anyway. The disappointment is inevitable, but the suffering is not. Failure is inevitable, but every failure is a step to some form of success

But I have no money.

Loose leaf paper is 20 cents a pack. Internet time at the library is free. The internet offers countless opportunities and is incredibly cheap. Find a roommate, cancel Netflix, stop eating out, and quit smoking. It’s surprising how much we pay for things that don’t improve our happiness. Friends are free. Play boardgames instead of going to bars. Read a fucking book; the library has countless. If money is an insurmountable issue then find a job that allows you to pursue your interests, but don’t forget to pursue them! If there’s a subject that you want to learn about then you can often find free guides and tutorials on the internet.

Doing what makes you happy is the most difficult thing that you’ll ever encounter. I’m not negating the undeniable fact that we need money to survive, but I’m convinced that we don’t need as much as we think. I’m also convinced that working hard at something we love will eventually earn more cash than working a soul-sucking job, it just takes that initial amount of time and effort. Our brain works against us because it believes that we will die if we do not pursue security. This remnant of tribal thinking was necessary to survive. There was a point where venturing outside of the cave would lead to being devoured, but those days are over, and those who say otherwise are victims of this very same thinking.

It’s very true that a large percentage of people are satisfied with jobs and lives that they’ve given up their wildest dreams for, and there is nothing wrong with this. There are certainly potential positives that come with this. These people would say that they’re happy, and I truly believe that they are, but I am not one of these people. If there is any secret in all of this chaos it’s that we are all different, and different things make us happy. The trick is acknowledging this fact and getting on with it. The failure to do so is a part of nearly every disagreement since the dawn of man. This extends to religious, political, and cultural issues. If you follow your passions you will disappoint someone, but the reason for this disappointment is not due to a failure on your part but a misunderstanding. Most assume that the ingredients for their happiness should satisfy everyone, and they become concerned, threatened, or scared when they are told otherwise. Consider the long term. Would you rather disappoint your parent now with pursuing an odd passion and please them later when you succeed, or disappoint them later when you eventually burn out and fail at a job that you hate? Like I said before, disappointment is inevitable, but suffering is not. If you’re afraid to become something because it has bad connotations associated with it, then be the person who changes these connotations. Your passion has earned this respect, and it has earned your attention. It’s time to do something about it.

I struggle with these issues daily, but so does everyone else. I’ve found the most support in the experiences of others. It’s assuring to know that we all suffer from fear and the tribal need for security. This isn’t about being a selfish douche, or an inconsiderate prick; it’s about realizing that you are the only one who cares about your own happiness. Live in a way that acknowledges that this is the truth for everyone. It’s not something that can be done overnight, but it is something that will drastically improve your life and in turn make life better for the people around you. In this case being selfish will lead to you to be happy and compassionate, and these traits have obvious benefits to the people around you. If you live in a state of bitter defeat, you offer nothing of value. I’ve been there, in the useless depths of pessimism, and I hated it. I still hate it because pessimism is still a huge part of my life. I won’t allow it to stay any longer. It’s time to do something about it.

People Who are Doing Something About it

• Humans of New York
• Scared Shitless
• Guide to Not Giving a Fuck

Guides to Doing Something About it

• Learn from the greatest authors.
• Profit from your passion, even while maintaining a bs job.
• Lower your cost of living.

Now Go Do Something About it!

So I was unafraid of death—of the moment itself—and of what came afterwards, which was (and is) nothing.

It takes balls for a terminal cancer patient to deny the existence of a soul, but it takes even bigger balls to do this 12 days before death.

In his posthumous post, writer Derek Miller speaks of oblivion quite eloquently, and he’s not afraid of it. Miller died from complications due to cancer on May 3rd, and his death post was published by a close friend on May 4. It appears that he makes reference to writing it 12 days beforehand via Twitter:

For no real reason, was awake the past 3 hours writing for the future. Time to sleep again now.

Miller fought a year long battle with cancer, but he didn’t stop “living” until he could physically continue no longer. For some reason, I always imagined the terminally ill sitting around, waiting to die in a gray atmosphere that resembled a poorly crafted antidepressant commercial. This idea is absurd. Life doesn’t care if you’re about to die, and it will treat you with unapologetic consistency until the very last moment. Miller seemed to understand this, and the ferocity with which he faced death is something that ought to be admired.

Miller links to an XKCD comic that illustrates his point quite well. A box of legos is merely a box of legos. A box of Legos can be used to build a lego horse, but if that horse is destroyed, it becomes a box of Legos. A person is simply a network of various electrical impulses and physical dependencies, nothing more. When these various pieces are separated or destroyed no human remains.

During a recent conversation with close friends, I stated that I cannot fear that which I cannot comprehend; therefore I cannot fear death. This statement wasn’t meant to be boastful or arrogant but rather an argument grounded in reason. I just don’t find fear of death to be plausible. It makes sense to fear pain or the departure of a loved one, but death is nothing, literally nothing. Death cannot possibly exist at the same time as the human life that it replaces, therefore death can cause no pain or discomfort in the life that vanishes upon its arrival.

Despite all of its power, the human mind is limited by its experiences. This means that things like death can only be quantified in terms that the mind understands, i.e. in terms of “living.” Death does not equal living, and attempts to describe it as such are foolish. Unfortunately for the sane, these attempts are often categorized into things that most refer to as “religions,” or cults, depending on your religion. The details and wordings of religious verses are subtly different, but the flawed human reasoning remains the same. There must be a life after death because life is all that I understand.

Are we strong enough to handle death? Sometimes it doesn’t seem so; we create fairytales to make ourselves feel better about ceasing to exist or simply ignore the inevitability of corpsification. I never understood the fear of death. There seems to be a need for some omnipotent being to come along and say that everything is going to get better, but it’s not. Things aren’t going to get better; things just are. Life is. The adjectives that follow are subjective and meaningless. We are as we are, and when we cease to exist we are not. How we interpret our existence is completely up to us, and our interpretations should not be skewed by those who wish to comfort themselves by controlling us. Hundreds of years ago religion was used as a way to keep the peons in check. “Things may be horrible now, but if you obey this set of rules things will improve drastically when you die.” Does anyone ever stop to think of how many religious “rules” seem to benefit the establishment, the church, group, or single nut? Give 10% to the church because God wants it. Does God see power in percentages? Perhaps 1% of your income only earns 10% of God’s love, because apparently he’s a son of a bitch when it comes to the adding machine. The “glorious afterlife” has lead countless numbers of people to sacrifice their happiness in exchange for filling the coffers of the already wealthy. This is a reality that I cannot promote.

In truth, losing a loved one is one of the shittiest things that anyone can experience, and there is no fluffy alternative reality to repair the irreparable damage caused. This is the harsh truth, but this experience is what defines humanity. The perpetual reminder of our mortality has spawned entire subcultures in art, music, and daily living. The one thing that unites all of humanity, the cruel leaders, visionaries, and factory workers, is that one day it will end. Derek Miller’s blog illustrates how technology is bringing users closer and closer to the faces of their own mortality and hopefully it shows them that there is nothing to fear. Fearing death will not effectively ward it off.

Find solace in the fact that every life experience somehow shapes the curvature of our human stories. Loved ones may leave, but their influence can never be wiped from the Earth’s history. Derek Miller will always be the writer that showed his readers what it was like to approach death with vibrance, clarity, and honesty.

If it wasn’t for his death, I would’ve never known him.

Presents Presents Presents!

Everyone remembers excessively nagging their parents to open presents. Personally, I fancied the 4 o’clock our; there was something about the slight moisture in the air that made the wrapping paper easier to ravage. Five minutes of glee lead to the obligatory thank-you phone calls, and after that I was free to play with my new treasures.

Theres nothing special about 23. There aren’t any cards that reflect on the power gained at twenty as there were to celebrate entrance into the Double Digits Club. There were no Megazords to be unwrapped, and the clown retired some time ago. Regardless of these sad truths, every Birthday is better than the last.

I celebrated my 22nd Birthday in Japan, in a little restaurant called Tanoshoku. My Japanese friends arranged an awesome party, gyoza cake and all. I had only been in Japan for a month, but I already felt that I belonged there. We ate, drank, shared stories, and had a generally awesome time. I wasn’t expecting the party, but it was an awesome reminder of how quickly one can make spectacular friends.

It was the tastiest gyoza cake that I’d ever had.

I worked for seven hours on my 23rd birthday. I was fairly certain that it would be an awful day, but my occasional pessimism is often met with surprise. I devoured my Birthday Bundt, had a celebratory Birthday Icee, and received an awesome piece of cheesecake from some good friends. My work day was sprinkled with texts wishing me a good day, Happy Birthdays from coworkers, a few phone calls, and it ended with the promise of Harry Potter.

Birthdays were always something that I waited for, but now they’re surprises, unexpected and cheerful. It’s nice to say that there is truly nothing in the world that I need. I have an awesome family, great friends around the world, and good health. I’m living every day in pursuit of what makes my passions soar, and I do so while having the opportunity to interact with amazing people on a daily basis. My parents always told me that I’d miss my childhood, and in some ways I do. Childhood meant no responsibilities, which was nice; but, I love the experiences that come with growing up. Everyday I grow stronger and learn more about the world and people around me, and I wouldn’t trade this for a life without responsibility and challenge.

Thanks to everyone for giving me something to write about. Thanks for making growing up worth the effort. Here’s to 24.

He wasn’t particularly adept with technology, and this was made particularly apparent by the perpetual blue screen. He wiggled cords, flipped switches, and tried hitting escape, just like his nephew told him, but the damned presentation just couldn’t make the journey to the screen. It had been a long day, and his lecture was jumbled. Fortunately, humor was enough to appease the restless class so far, but he could tell that he was losing them fast. The impending project deadline was a pin pricking the back of his eyeballs, and he knew that it’d take another three or four sleepless nights to finish.

But this didn’t fix his slideshow.

He flipped the switch on the tower one more time, flipped another switch or two and held his breath. The projector fan whirred to life, and the presentation beamed onto the wall. It was a glorious site; well, it was black text on a white background, but he was happy with it. The lights where dimmed, and he began to describe the meanings of f-stops and shutter speeds. He slowly pulled his class back from the edge of oblivion and threw in a few self-deprecating jokes for good measure. It was going well, but he was still rushing things; he had to skip out early, but his wife made him promise to keep the motorcycle under 60. The finicky clients were difficult to please, and he knew that the meeting would lead to several more last-minute tasks, all of which would be painfully pointless.

The lecture lasted an hour, and he valiantly clicked over to the last slide. Amateur photographers often overestimate the amount of light sensitivity needed to take an excellent sunset photo, and the image on the presentation was meant to serve as a beautiful example of how a sunset should be captured. The palms where silhouetted, and the orange rays of the sun reflected on the water, which appeared to be made of smooth glass. It was one of his favorite photos, taken during a family vacation, and it also sat in a small frame in his kitchen. He didn’t normally use his own work in his lectures, because he felt it was a bit self indulgent; but, he enjoyed seeing the scene on the big screen, as if he was back on the beach with his young family. It had been quite some time since his children started their own adventurous pursuits, but this picture brought him back.

The presentation was finished, but nothing seemed to move. The cursor slid haphazardly across the screen, and the professor’s head lowered into a deep bow; the chair didn’t like this and squeaked in protest. His clients would have to find someone else to arrange their child’s briss photos.

He was sitting on the beach.