Vlogbrothers

John and Hank Green are brothers and they have a Youtube channel called Vlogbrothers. They post videos of themselves talking about lots of stuff. They talk to each other via these videos and sometimes they make videos together. I think (but I really have no idea and I'm too lazy and tired to find out) it started out as a way for them to just keep in touch and have fun creating things but then it grew it a huge channel as more and more people started to watch their videos. They have fans called Nerdfighters who are collectively know as Nerdfighteria. 

I think it's a really cool thing to do. Sometimes the videos are about one or two topics and other times it's just John or Hank talking to the other about stuff that's happening in their life and things they've been thinking about. I especially like when they end with, "I'll see you Monday" (sometimes it's Friday). It's adorable.

I just spent at least 2 hours watching some of their videos and I'm happier at the end of those at-least-two-hours. I really enjoy watching these videos and they actually make me feel better. It's really nice to see them talk to each other and joke around and be all brotherly. I think it's cute. Also, I like that John refers to his wife as 'The Yeti'. 

Anyway, it's a great channel to subscribe to if you spend a lot of time on Youtube. They both speak really fast so the videos are fast paced but I guarantee you, you will not be disappointed.


On a completely unrelated topic, I've decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I am blessed in more ways than one and I need not wallow in self pity or sorrow. I watched a lot of SoulPancake videos too and I realised that one of the best ways to live my life is to live it happily. So that's what I will do. 

*Insert A Witty Title About Brushstrokes*

Someone once told me to make a list of what I like to do and do it.

It took me a while, but I've started painting. Not regularly, though. I paint when I'm bored or just really feel like creating.

That's what I did today.

I used to think that painting (or creating) was therapeutic. Making things with my hands, watching things come together, art; I thought that it would make me feel better, and happier because I was making something out of stuff that are basically nothing on their own. That's the general idea, isn't it? When we say art therapy, we expect some sense of release and relief. We expect to be better off than when we started. I know now that I was wrong.

Today is my day off and I didn't want to read biopsych so I decided to paint instead.

I was relatively cheery these past 2 days. Everything seemed funnier and brighter. So when I picked up my paint brush and unscrewed the lids off my tiny paint bottles, I was expecting to feel even better at the end of the process; happier and a lot less bored.

The first page was nonsense. Just colours... not even nice colours. After that, I painted a cat silhouette. Then a ram. Then the TARDIS (which I ruined with a badly painted quote). I continued with a few other things.

Throughout the painting process, I suddenly felt lighter but darker. At first I didn't get it. I definitely didn't feel bored anymore, but I didn't know what else I felt.

Once I painted my last thing of the day, I laid back and started to think.

I wasn't bored anymore. I had worked that restless energy off. But I wasn't happier. In fact, I was less happy than when I started. I felt a little gloomier, sadder. And I didn't understand. Why did painting and creating make me feel so sad? It was supposed to do the opposite.

I kept thinking about it.

And then it hit me. Art didn't suddenly reverse it's effect. No. Art did exactly what it has always done. It stripped away my shell. With each brush stroke, I let my guard down. As I completed each painting, one more brick was removed.

Art revealed my core. It took everything away - the mask and the defense systems - and left me with the harsh reality of what I was really feeling. The sadness and the gloom. I was forced to face my waves. Apparently, I wasn't actually as happy as I thought I was. I mean, I know that I wasn't exactly chirpy and completely content. I guess I just didn't want to face the amount of 'sad' I have in me right now.

In hindsight, this is not all that surprising. I was putting on a mask and it worked well enough for me to ignore the tiny slivers of grey creeping through. I just laughed a littlelouder and smiled a little bigger to block it all out. Everything got ripped away when I started painting, though.

I won't say I feel better now but I know that I feel less fake. I suppose that's all that matters, really. Being real with myself.

The Caterpillar You Think You Understand

I wrote a story about a caterpillar today. Nothing special. It was about a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, and the existential crisis it encountered during the process. It got me thinking; if someone read that story, they could infer so much from it; about me, life, what they think I feel or am going through.

But then again, that's not what I put into the story. I didn't project myself onto the caterpillar in the story nor do I think I did it subconsciously. Yet anyone could infer anything from any story by any author. This makes the study of literature nothing but a guessing game.

That's all.

Here's a quote I saw today that I really like:

"God said "Love your enemy," and I obeyed him and loved myself." - Khalil Gibran

p.s: Here's another thought: The internet used to be a place where people were honest but if you look closely, you'll see the mask that is thickening over everyone's emotions. You can't see the truth if they don't let you. (This could be another one of those non-relevant/related things where people infer stuff from, or it could be a mask. I guess you'll never know)

The Lecturer's Fangirl

It's that time of the year again. Time for the shortest month of the year! Which also happens to be my favourite month... for obvious reasons.

This semester has been going quite well. The subjects are interesting, the assignments are not as taxing (or maybe I've just gotten used to handing in 15 pages for each assignment every semester), and the lecturers are brilliant.

I get to see Dr. Eugene for 2 classes every week. That's 6 hours per week! This has to be the best semester I've had since I began on this psycho path. Needless to say, I'm a little bit of a fan of Dr. Eugene. His classes are always interesting and I love listening to him speak. It sounds to me that sometimes his brain wants to get the words out a lot faster than he his vocal cords can keep up with so he stumbles. Or he sounds like he's about to stumble. He's brilliant and no one can change my mind about him.

I also have Mr. Alex who is a joy to have, especially since he's the Biopsychology lecturer. He explains things really well, in my opinion and his notes are concise. Mr. Alex is to me in HELP what Pn. Nik was in secondary school. I love Bio and he makes me love it more each class. I'm actually caught up on all my biopsych readings! I was quite surprised when I realised it.

Now all I need to do I keep up with all the readings that Dr. Eugene gives us. Seriously, almost every scientific research journal is a bore to get through. The introductions are sometimes interesting but when they're not, 6 pages of a scientific prologue can be a little too much. After that, I get lost somewhere around the Methods and Results sections. The discussions are fine if you know what you're looking for. And of course, the conclusions are the best part but also the most useless section of the journal if you're looking for a line or two to explain the gist of the paper.

Anyways, this post is really just something I wrote because I feel like writing. And I really needed to get all my excitement over Dr. Eugene out to somewhere other than Davina's ears. The poor lass has been listening to me fangirl over him for the past 3 weeks now.

Happy New Year, y'all!