episode 4

The speaker reflects on the noise of life and how people can make it unbearable. They recall a time of peace in the middle of the ocean where there was silence and no worries. They discuss the path of life and the unknown destinations it holds. The speaker contemplates self-image and the struggle of feeling confident. They reflect on the beauty of authenticity and pain. They mention their love for children and share anecdotes about interactions with kids. The speaker also mentions their appreciation for their voice, laugh, and certain physical features. They end by expressing gratitude to the listener and wishing them a great day. I've come to find that life is extremely noisy, and people can make that noise unbearable. And that wasn't part of my script. Now here it goes. There's been one time in my life when I felt completely at peace with my surroundings. I mean, it was the middle of the ocean. Absolutely nothing around. No crickets, no wind, no waves, no cars, and definitely no people. I loved it there. For it to be so silent is calming. Sometimes it's scary, but when no one's around, you can relax. There are no worries. Not about how you look, your hair, your face, your clothes, your demeanor. All it is, is blue. Blue ocean, blue sky. It's funny how the sky isn't actually blue. It's simply what the atmosphere tricks us into thinking. It's interesting. Life's interesting. It makes sticking around feel more like a journey, and not a ledge. A cliff that is broken, turned into absolute nothingness. Sometimes it's hard to notice that the path you take has many destinations, many stops, before happy is achieved, before excitement is experienced, before love, maybe after it as well. The thing that is hard to understand is all of it. When you look out on the ocean, I hope to God you've seen it before, but when you peer, what do you see? Flatness, a line. You don't know what's past, it's too far. It's a metaphor, in a sense. Your path cycles, and continues, just like the oceans and the earth. Best believe they're never ending. There just may be some stops, some long stops, some hurtful stops, some stops that you may have to wait at for a while, while still moving forward, but, on the horizon, do you know what's at the end? No. But it also doesn't end, life continues. You may think terribly far, you may just barely float, catching your breath every day, but soon you may swim, you may surf, and one day you may fly, like clouds, like birds, like flying fish, like rain, like a plane, or a star. They say the brightest star guides us. Maybe that's where we go, after it all. After the silence we perceive on earth becomes true silence, where coldness and heat is tolerable, where I'll see my puppy again, both of them, and maybe where I'll meet my grandparents for the first time. Don't give up, I have to tell myself that too, and I never listen. It's hard when all you hear is silence in a room full of people that are talking, but nothing is being said, nothing with substance, at least, nothing with care. That's the scary silence, but maybe that can turn into laughter, and love. The path ahead continues, it will extend and grow, farther, stronger, higher, until you land on that star. So allow yourself to soar with it. You know what I've learned? That there is no point in stopping, because there's always something new, but you'll never know if you quit. People say quitting is easy, but I think it's the hardest thing possible. Quitting to some is winning the feeling that they were strong enough to go through with it. Why is that? Sometimes I like myself, it's weird though, super weird. An assignment asked for my picture and I couldn't stop laughing out of joy, then reality and anxiety comes back to check on me, and my head doesn't know where it's at. Sometimes that's okay. I used to always describe my mood as the middle, because I don't know was my usual answer. I was different then, I thought I'd bend for the mud, and I had, but the mud could get much muddier, and it would. It was about family drama, and then it wasn't. It was about someone, both the greatest and worst possible scenarios. So yeah, sometimes I think I'm great. I just had a therapy session and was asked how I feel. I said how I wake up, look in the mirror, and automatically can tell whether I like myself that day or don't, if I can bring myself to look in the mirror at all. If the answer is yes, I'm confident, likable, funny, joyous, singing. If the answer is no, I tell myself it's okay without saying a word at all, because it's actually not. Something I don't get is why everyone needs the rest to smile. It kind of annoys me very much, actually. It's like negative emotions aren't real, but they're very real, and there isn't one person that doesn't have them, because bad days are real, definitely. I'm not going to ask for you to tell me what to do with my face, but aside from the controlling aspect, I find serious more fascinating and beautiful, like when I've just washed my face and it's all red, and it looks like I've just woken up from a deserved nap or was crying my eyes out. That feels pretty to me, for whatever reason, maybe cinematically. I like that word, pretty. I used to hate it, like other words my mom would say, like silly and tummy. They're absolutely disgusting. I like to observe pretty, though. When I look at someone, I assume the best. Sometimes it hurts me, but I think of them as being pretty people, not in any way shallow. I think of them as nice people, kind people, fun, genuine, and cool people. I've definitely met some, and it's very rewarding. It's not like I purposely do it, though. I don't like looking at people. He feels disrespectful to me, so when friends pass by, I never see them, because I either have my head down or might feel the vision isn't focused on the people to my right or left, but only accidentally, I swear. I have faith, if it's a good day, that is, that people can be good. Not that they are. I have fully lost hope, just about. But there are days that have been good, that have been great, and the only reason that it is is because I was with other people. Hopefully I can be one of those people, to be pretty to me and you. I sometimes like being different, being weird. Nobody looks like me, which can be good or bad. I sit in the car for hours after I'm parked. I don't like calling it my car, because even though I used my earned money, I still had assistance in the process. I like certain words very much, like pretty, pareidolia, and reciprocate. I sometimes think that dents in lips make them more authentic when chapped versus cared for. It kind of goes with beauty and pain. I subconsciously think every car has a face, which I think is normal for most kids. When I'm driving, I think everyone else can see me, but maybe that's just the anxiety talking. I know it is, but maybe not. I have dreams so vivid, I write them the second I wake up, if I have the motivation to. I actually stopped remembering them for a while. I also am pretty confident I have this thing called the Chew Syndrome. I learned about it in a show, but it's where whenever the sun's out, you start sneezing, and ever since a kid, I blamed my sneezes on the sun. I didn't know it was a real thing. In elementary school, I learned what focusing your eyes into a blur was. I, for whatever reason, thought girls would think I was cool because of it, just staring off into nothing. It's funny. I have at least 70 baby names already chosen, and I don't even know if I'll be in a situation where I can biologically have them, but I love kids. I do. My niece, for example, or the kid named Maverick, no, not you, Mav, although I love you too, who came to my job that I got to sneak a free cookie to. Einstein cookies are the absolute best. By the way, you've got to trust me. These two twins that I helped pin their audition numbers to today, I think I want a boy. I want to do good to a boy, which wasn't done to me, I guess. When I was in Hawaii, this kid with a super long name was playing in the water near the sand of a pier. For whatever reason, I brought my goggles. He was the most lively and joyous kid, so I wanted to get to know him. He was in second grade, and I gave him my goggles and showed him that it allows you to see through the water. He loved them. Sometimes I like my voice, too, and my laugh is cool, too. Sometimes I have so many different types. When I was younger, my sister would simply laugh because of how stupid it was, not because anything was actually funny. Sometimes my hair is cool, too. The curly hair is a drag. Clothes are fun, too, but sometimes you find sick ones, but you're not confident enough to live a day in them. We give those moments to celebrities. I like being skinny sometimes, but then again, I don't at all. I like my scars, though. I'll never get tired of them, or that I'm from San Diego, because now that I'm not there, which I don't want to be, I can just associate myself with the whole surfer vibe and just seem so dope, at least to myself, which I am at times, and I'm going to learn that the best way I can, because I'm a surfer, I promise. Who knew I could do an episode without fully getting deep? Just kidding, my voice is always going to make it deep anyways. Have a great day, and thanks so much for getting into this for 19 minutes.