-
Episode 206 – Tripping With Mike

Summary
In this episode, I am joined by my friend Mike to discuss some recent adventures and our trip from last Summer to the Museum of Shadows.
VIDEO VERSION COMING SOON
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support
-
Episode 205 – Ringing In The Long Dark

Summary
In this special scripted episode, I reflect on my recent journey with tinnitus.
Music provided by: Storyblocks
To read along:
Ringing In The Long Dark
In the deep recesses of the Midwest, there lies a place filled with restless spirits and unspeakable evil. At least, that’s what they told us.
To me, it seemed like a collection of creepy dolls, questionable grammar, and objects that may or may not have been picked up from Goodwill that week. So when we reached the basement, and I found myself in front of a large statue of Baphomet with a spot for offerings, I treated it like a bit. I dropped my dollar, and that was that.
Months later, standing frozen at work with a ringing in my ear, I’d be lying if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind: Did I just invite something in? The reality? It was far less dramatic and more terrifying.
I remember the moment happening right around the end of January. I had been battling a sickness that was lingering since Christmas break.
What the hell was happening? It sounded like an electric device on the fritz. I looked around the room and up at the bright, white ceiling. “Are you there, Baphomet? It’s me, Jeremy. You can cut the shit now.”
I left the room just to confirm what I had already feared. There was no device. The ring was coming from inside of me. What about the podcast or silent writing moments? Oh God. I had to calm myself. I didn’t even know the cause, and certainly not the permanence of it. I took a breath and began to think new thoughts. How could I have gotten here?
I’ve always had a very special relationship with music, thanks to my sister being an influence growing up. She introduced me to lots of great bands at the time, and we watched plenty of MTV. My parents weren’t huge into music, but I had some influence from some oldies compilation CDs they had lying around, and most certainly from my Mom’s love of The Beatles.
Eventually, I developed my own tastes and was proud to have owned albums from the likes of Weird Al, Fatboy Slim, and plenty of great 90’s rock. I was not so proud to have owned albums from the likes of Aqua, Savage Garden, and Chumbawamba. As a kid, though, a catchy tune was a catchy tune. If the single was great, surely the whole album could be. I really had no shame, and some would argue taste.
As I grew older, my love of listening evolved as my awesome sister would start taking me to concerts. I still remember going to the Warped Tour for the first time. For those familiar with Milwaukee, this was back when it was still at The Rave. Yeah, I’m pretty old. Anyway, the point is, it was magic. Multiple stages, extreme sports, and I even got to meet some artists. I remember someone from The Bouncing Souls coming up to me and asking me to say “Bouncing Souls are fucking awesome!” in front of a camera. I didn’t do it. I was far too shy. What a missed opportunity! If anyone from the band is reading or listening now, sorry! You’re awesome!
I loved live music, but did I attend more concerts than the average person? Enough to accelerate this issue? No way, man. Yeah, I can remember trying to get up front for a lot of shows, and no, I never wore any hearing protection, but it’s not like I was in the fucking band.
I snapped back to reality for a moment. Maybe I didn’t need to go over my entire life history. I was definitely overthinking, but I just couldn’t help myself.
My relationship with music didn’t end there. As soon as I knew what headphones were, there were lots of moments filled with music blasting in my ears. And I mean blasting. I used to think that if the volume goes that high, it must be designed to be listened to. Even when I knew better, louder just got me more amped up. Who wants to run to music that sounds like it’s being played in an elevator? I needed to feel it in my veins.
I didn’t know what I was dealing with, but the thought that something I loved so much could have contributed made me sad. I sighed. If I was being honest, it actually wasn’t so much the music, it was me. I could’ve tried to do more to protect my ears. I had no choice but to try to forgive myself and move forward. I, of course, knew how all this worked. This one just really fucking stung.
I continued on with the rest of my work for the evening. The Long Dark, sickness, and now this? The funny thing is, I was actually feeling very optimistic headed into this particular Winter season. Time away was going to be great; work was becoming a grind, and I was excited by the idea of some projects lined up that I planned on working on. On top of that, the break kicked off with a trip to a really cool historic car & other neat memorabilia museum. It should have been the perfect recharge. Instead, a weird feeling falling over me after the trip, full-blown sickness during Christmas, and then the eventual ringing journey.
When I got home, I did one of the worst things that a person in this situation can do: I doom scrolled and did my own internet “research”. I read threads on Reddit, mostly horror stories. People saying things like, “Developed a ringing and my life sucks now! I envy all of those who still know true silence!”. I also searched for medical information, doing the classic move of running down the list of causes and thinking of every possibility. I got so desperate at a certain point, I even tried turning to AI; something I once thought was the enemy.
Back in my room, at the end of that panicked evening, I wondered if sleep would be a problem. There was also a tinge of hope left that maybe by morning it would just be gone, like a quick glitch in a game.
The next morning, as I got my bearings, I was greeted to the familiar “eeee” sound. I remember being young and hungover, lazing in bed, hating the sound of birds. Now? I would have given anything for just the birds.
The exact timeline is hazy now, but I believe I gave it just under a week before I decided I needed to call a doctor. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started getting over the whole pick up a phone and get checked out thing. It was probably sometime after my knee issue. I came to the conclusion that the build-up is usually worse and this wasn’t so bad. I also decided that getting info whether good, or not so good, beats not living. Living is good.
In the week leading up to the doctor visit, of course, I spiraled. I went to work, scrolled some more pages, and even started to do some weird decongestant exercises that I saw on YouTube. It was from some new age type of channel. The moves were a series of strange rubbing motions on my face and lots of nose blowing. I’m not even trying to knock this stuff. It could have some positive effects, or even some actual evidence, but this is just an example of some of the ridiculous lengths my brain would go.
When the day of the doctor visit finally arrived, I was still in my head, yet also had some relief in knowing that I’d gain more info and get some peace of mind either way. I explained my situation to the doctor, that I was pretty damn sick at the time, but also have not been kind to my ears in the past. His suggestion was for me to take an oral steroid every day for a week, and get back to him if it didn’t help.
That week began with lingering congestion. I didn’t think my nose was ever going to clear up or stop running at certain points. I tried to distract myself as much as I could. Normally, a long walk could help, but it was brutally cold, and it would have taken some inspirational miracle spark of some kind to get my ass out there. David Goggins would’ve had to come to my house and scream in my face while dragging me.
The next best thing was to just veg out and play video games. Well, the next best thing was probably just another form of activity, like hitting the treadmill or using literally any item I had inside my exercise room. I chose video games, though, what can I say? It was a struggle, and while it didn’t provide me with any movement, it was an excellent distraction. Within just a few minutes of getting into a game, it was like, “What ringing?”
The week limped along. My distractions mostly worked. I watched a few YouTube videos about the topic, but it never became an insane rabbit hole. With each day, I’d wake up and wonder, could this be the morning of silence? By the weekend, with a still ringing ear, I stopped asking that question. My wishful thinking was turning into something else. I knew it was time to schedule a follow-up.
I was really getting annoyed with all the visits I was making to my doctor. Not long before all of this, I was in the office for a separate issue. Of course, that issue involved seeing a specialist, so it wasn’t just the one visit. It was the visit, then follow-up, then wait for the specialist…you get my drift.
During this visit, he seemed a bit puzzled by my appearance. Did he not say, follow-up with him in a week if the ringing persisted? Was I supposed to call and leave a message? Wait, was I? I didn’t know how all this worked. Before all these recent health issues, I missed a lot of yearly check-ups, and had no other reason to go to a doctor. Stupid to not get checked up? Maybe, but that’s not the point.
I sat there a bit puzzled myself, waiting for more. He asked me if I had scheduled an appointment with the ENT doctor and basically said I was kinda just shit outta luck.
Um, what? Couldn’t he have just sugar-coated it a little bit? Okay, it wasn’t like he actually said, “shit outta luck”, but he may as well have said that. He could have even just straight-up lied to me. I would’ve been okay with that.
I made the call to the ENT office as soon as I could. Even if they didn’t have great news either, it would still be news. It would help me move forward. I was feeling a sense of urgency; the rest of the world apparently was not. I would not be able to get an appointment until May. At the time of the call, it was the beginning of February.
Okay, well, maybe it will just go away on its own by then, I thought. Sure, and money will fall out of the sky, and we’ll all get ice cream. No matter how much doubt, though, I had to remain positive.
For the rest of the month, I remained in my head. I thought of future projects, and wondered if anything would ever be the same again. I had to come to terms over the past year, that maybe the previous manic days of creating may never come back in the same form, however, I never once feared I would lose my ability or voice. This season was so brutal, it was starting to convince me that I was.
Things always slow down for a while after I upload the Christmas Special. It’s usually a large endeavor, and a break is well earned. It just becomes difficult to stop the break and get back to it. Breaks are a great comfort, and the long dark is a bitch. Most of the time, I will do some writing, or an idea will spark, and the floodgates will open back up. As I sat in my hot tub on a random 20-degree February night, I strained and stressed. I tried with every ounce of my being, but I couldn’t come up with shit.
I looked up at the clear night sky, at least being able to appreciate how beautiful all the stars looked. A person can’t just lose it, right? I questioned myself, trying to rationalize. What if I just re-visited an old project? That could be a great stepping stone. I had an entire list of things from the previous year that I really wanted to accomplish, and sadly, had not really done anything from it yet.
Various items from the list danced around in my head. Most of them were kinda meaty. The thought of trying to tackle one, just to build momentum and check a box, seemed daunting. Maybe that wasn’t the best place to start. I continued to reflect.
How about another essay? Last time I found myself feeling a little stuck, writing helped get that momentum back. Also, it would just be nice to get some of these more recent challenge and reflections documented. Documented? Hey, wait a minute. Maybe this whole ringing thing could also become a documentary. I could interview people and show what my experiences have been. The floodgates were officially back open.
I have a pretty bad habit of getting an idea, getting hyped about it, and then shelving it for an unknown future date. By mid-April, the tinnitus documentary looked like it was becoming one of those “on the shelf” things. I had not made much movement with it. The ball had already been dropped, as I had already missed filming some good “real” moments that I had experienced along this high-pitched journey. Yet, I was still grateful. I was still riding the wave of momentum and could see the spark. If nothing was going to come from the documentary, that was fine. It was the catalyst for everything else. It was enough in that moment to make me believe again.
One of the first podcast related activities that I did was record a “state of the podcast” address. It was just some free-form audio to help get me back into the vibe, while addressing my long list of uncompleted projects from the previous year.
Before and during recording, I worried about my hearing. Would I keep hearing the phantom sound and be thrown off? Would I keep adjusting the levels unnecessarily? I pressed on and did eventually stop thinking about all that. This was starting to sound like all those what-ifs that played in my head during the process of going back to college in my 30’s. Guess what happened with that? I was sitting there recording with a degree up on my wall. The worries were just delusions of the mind. My brain was probably just trying to get my back, and while some things maybe would never be the same again, I was still the same tenacious, resilient, and creative guy from the past.
For the rest of the recording, I locked in. It wasn’t long before I had the familiar feelings again. Ah yes, my free therapy. Ramble on. Ramble even if no one cares right now. They may not care right now, but they would never if the rambling ceased. Besides, it’s not about them, remember?
From April into May, it’s not like there was some insane turnaround, though there were some things starting to brew. It seemed that instead of working against me, the universe was starting to conspire for me. Maybe not in every aspect of my life, but certainly creatively.
Late winter into spring, I stumbled upon a bit of a solid writing routine and started digging up some old work to take some more passes on things. I ended up reviving and revising an old pilot that I had originally written in 2020. Back when I first wrote it, it was exciting, and I’m sure I probably thought it was ready to shoot. Now, it was more like: “Holy shit! This thing is really ready.” I also started working on my book of essays for the first time in probably over a year.
Not only that, but my buddy surprised me with 28 days worth of shorts made from preexisting videos from my channel. I could post daily, grease the algorithm, and essentially pick up free subscribers. This would all be while learning a lot of useful information along the way. The whole thing actually ended up being a lot more work than I had initially imagined. Instead of being able to upload via just the desktop or just mobile, I had to use both options in order to fully complete my process. On desktop, you could uncheck the box that alerts your subscribers that a new video is available, but can’t make a custom thumbnail, while on mobile, it’s the opposite. Make it make sense!
I had no room to complain too much, as it was all gifted content. Work was still work, however, and it served as a reminder that most things always take longer than anticipated.
With all of this newfound momentum and the fact that another Winter had passed, I had actually felt like I was starting to adapt better to the ringing.
Sleep was the first thing that I was able to make a relatively normal return to. I still had my moments, but I also had podcasts and cricket masking noises. Other ways in which I noticed a shift happening were more subtle. Sometimes I’d just have a packed day, get to the end, and realize, “Hey, I didn’t even think about the ringing today.”
May 5th, the day of my appointment, eventually arrived. I was nervous, yet also very eager to figure out what the hell was going on. When I got into the office, the first thing I had to do was take a hearing test. I got into what looked like a recording booth, sat down, put on some headphones, and waited for the doctor to arrive on the other side of the glass across from me. The test involved mostly the repeating back of a series of words and raising my hand if I heard certain sounds. I thought I was nailing it; the chart with my results at the end said otherwise.
The hearing results on my left ear were a straight line, while my right ear’s results looked like a sledding hill. I didn’t know how to interpret the data, but I did know enough that my right ear was altered. Dare I even say, fucked.
Right after that, I was moved into another office to meet with another doctor. She looked at the results, and it was believed that I had experienced nerve damage from a virus. Excuse me, but what the serious fuck? I didn’t even know that was possible.
Just to rule anything else out, she wanted me to get an MRI. Oh, good, back to the waiting and anticipating game. Luckily, this time it was scheduled for just later that same month. I would not have to distract myself for long.
Walking away from the first appointment left me rather unfulfilled. Sure, I got answers, I got clarity. It was nice to not be in the dark anymore. What I also got, though, was basically another person saying, “You’re shit outta luck…oh, and we have to make sure there’s nothing wrong with your brain.” I get it, it’s not that simple. If this was truly a permanent thing, I wasn’t really out of luck. People had overcome far worse situations and thrived.
It would be like quitting substances or going back to college: a fucking battle. One in which you keep getting smacked, often want to just find a corner and weep, but you keep getting up and showing up. Life has begged me so many times to throw in the towel. “Come on, man, just quit. Look around you, what’s the use? I beg you, turn that foolish optimism into proper cynicism.”
Foolish optimism had won every time and was going to continue to be undefeated. Life sucks, but it’s also beautiful, and we all deserve to find out what-if? What if I could adapt, and what if my wildest dreams are still waiting behind the door? What if the ringing becomes just another part of the story? What if?
The weeks leading up to the MRI were a bit of a roller coaster. Expensive car issues hit me pretty hard, but a couple of great trips helped to soften the blow. When the day of the appointment finally arrived, I again felt a mix of many things. Mostly, I was pretty psyched to have a day off.
The scan seemed like serious business. I had to answer the same series of lengthy questions 3 different times. The scan was delayed due to an emergency. Well, what’s another hour on top of the months I already had? The waiting area had a recliner and a TV, so it wasn’t a bad wait at all.
The scan went pretty well. I never felt any moments of panic, just lots of urges to touch my face. It was a pretty lengthy experience. At times, I imagined being on an alien ship, in some sort of observation tube. I know one thing about my brain, at least; pop culture has warped it.
When it was all over, I made the walk of shame in my gown, down the long hallway, through the lobby, and back into the changing room. I was told that it’d be about 3 to 5 days before I would find out my results.
One long holiday weekend and one workday later, I got the call. Everything was fine. Well, the ringing was still very much there, but my brain was fine. No matter what, I had to be grateful for that.
So, here I am, about to cap this essay off in June. The saga isn’t over. I have a follow-up in August, consisting of another hearing test, and the possibility of a hearing aid. Life is far from normal, yet it also goes on. I sit on the table outside, on a beautiful evening, with an almost finished essay. When that’s over, I have plans for 2 books, shooting some video projects, and who knows what else.
It’s not the same, and if I’m not careful, the momentum could crash. However, the fact that there even is momentum right now either way means I never lost my voice. Most importantly, I’ll be okay.
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support
-
The 2026 State of the Pod

Summary
In this first annual audio-only State of the Podcast, I address where I have been and where we are headed.
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support
-
Episode 204 – The 2025 Christmas Special

Summary
It’s Christmas again at MPS studios, and it’s time to celebrate. Will it be a last-minute scramble? Did I get everything I wanted? Can this Christmas be just as magical as the others? Find out in the 2025 Christmas Special!
Special guests:
Ron Jordan
Jaime Jordan
Nicholas Pepin & Justin DoffekMusic provided by:
StoryblocksVIDEO VERSION:
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support
-
Episode 203 – The 2025 Halloween Special

Summary
3 contestants battle it out for ultimate Halloween glory. I drew a lot of inspiration from Double Dare this year. There’s a lot of visuals this year, but listening on audio is just fine! I hope you enjoy, happy Halloween!
Special guests: Garrett, Mitch, and Johnathon
Music: Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio
VIDEO VERSION:
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support
-
Episode 201 – Fears

Summary
In this Season 5 premiere episode, I’m joined by special guest/my sister, Jaime Jones. We discuss all things fears: rational fears, irrational ones, childhood fears, and fears we currently have.
Strap in tight. It’s that time of year again. Let’s get spooky!
Music: Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio
*UPDATE 10/26* – Now with improved audio!
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support
-
Episode 200 – The Quest For 200

Summary
After struggling to come up with ideas and experiencing some eerie visions of death, I decided to ask some friends for some help.
This episode features many surprise guests that I don’t want to spoil here, but I encourage you to listen through to the end to hear the full credits.
Music provided by:
Storyblocks &
Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio
Video:
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support
-
Episode 199 – Long Runs, Long Dark, and Deep Pits

Summary
In this special scripted episode, I reflect on finally graduating and trying to climb out of a pit.
Music provided by Storyblocks &
Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio
Video:
To read along:
When I first started my bad habit-breaking journey, it felt like I had a rocket in my ass. I was on a complete roll of positives. I was releasing episodes and other visual projects consistently, I was working out all the time, and I had a great attitude. I’d proven to myself that I could do difficult things, thus giving me great belief in myself. The belief and action was a wicked combo. I could and was doing things that I would’ve probably not thought possible. On a really good day, if I read or heard something extra motivational, watch out.
I remember reading the first David Goggins book during one of those Summers and immediately upon finishing, went on my longest run. It was a personal best of 9 miles. For me, quite a feat, and something that I’ve never been able to replicate. I still remember a lot of that long run. The heat beating down on me, sweat collecting in all the worst spots, but I didn’t care. I’m completely in the zone, doing laps around the block, trying to keep count of laps while also trying to convert laps to miles. In this moment, I am locked in and there’s no going back. “I’m so glad that I’ve gotten into this lifestyle”, I think to myself, “I can’t ever imagine this coming to an end. This is life now.” I grin to myself as I continue to run.
Years later I find myself rifling through the mail in the dining room. I come across a small yellow envelope with my name and address on it. On the bottom of that is more text: Postage Due: $2.93 What the hell is this? I think back to recent packages received. Didn’t think there were any issues with those. I try to think if there’s any incoming mail that it could be, then it hits me. Of course, I know what it is and it makes sense now. The package in question, that’s lacking proper postage, was my degree. Why not just wring me out for a few more bucks as a final goodbye? It is the beginning of March and it’s been some time since my final exam and all the fanfare. It’s about damn time that I get to physically hold this sucker. I was eagerly anticipating it and though I feel a lot of pride for some reason, I’m not feeling a lot of joy or excitement. In fact, you could say I’ve been in a bit of a pit. But why? I should be walking on the clouds. I slayed the school dragon. All my hard work had paid off after all that time. So, what the hell?
Well, it could be the long dark. If you read or listened to any other writings that I’ve had about the Winter season, you know my feelings and how it affects me. If you don’t know my feelings, let’s just say, not fucking great, to sum it up briefly. This year we didn’t have a ton of snow, but lots of seriously cold days and of course, lots of dark. This all makes sense, yet the more I thought, it seemed that my troubles began a little earlier. I’m thinking it was more like Summertime.
It was early June and I had just completed another semester of school. It was a huge relief, as it had meant no more in-person classes. Even more importantly, no more getting up early. This was a huge deal to me because I was in pretty rough shape. It was just the one class, but any morning that consisted of class or classwork would pretty much guarantee that the night before would not be near a solid 8 hours. Probably more like 5 or 6 if I was lucky. I viewed Summer as a potential renewal period. I’d re-energize myself and all my creative endeavors. It was time to get back to the good stuff. The stuff that made me feel alive and proud of my efforts. Not that I didn’t feel proud for completing another semester, but it was a different type of pride. Both are great except there’s nothing quite like having an idea, coming up with a plan, and using all your tools to make it real. Better yet, having a large library that you can look back on. It was time to expand my personal library yet again, but where to start?
Well, I’d start by doing something that I was quite familiar with. Though I wasn’t 100% done with school, I thought I’d write an essay that recapped my new experiences. I’d explain the struggles and attempt to inspire. It would be just the thing I’d need to re-reboot this thing.
The writing of the essay didn’t really take all that long, as everything was fresh on my mind and I had lots of old assignments that I could use to reconstruct the timeline of events. The process was a therapeutic return to form. When it was finally ready to be released and allowed to just exist in the universe, I was proud of myself, however, my blah-ness remained. This wasn’t the cure that I had hoped it would be. What the hell was going on here?
I wasn’t dumb. I understand that an essay wasn’t going to completely save my life. I get that. I was, however, looking for a little bit more of a spark. I needed that old creative routine back. It was time to go bigger. It was time to do something that would be rewarding and challenging over a longer, more consistent stretch. The 31 mother fucking days of Halloween part 3!
“But wait!”, I’d think to myself. School’s not over and I’ve got my worst subject remaining. I’m already drained right now, at this very moment. The plan is to just put my head down, say “fuck it”, and continue? It was a pretty stupid idea, but what would be more stupid would be a Summer that flies by with no effort toward a goal. I knew this would be a great way to dive back in while holding myself accountable. I’d also get to work with some great, creative people again. The battle in my mind was settled. It was on.
My first steps were to finalize the list, or rather, actually construct one. I had some rough ideas in my head, along with dead projects I could resurrect from years gone by, but no real list. The thing is, making a list of ideas and content is pretty easy. I love the holiday and there are so many ways to cover it. There are decades of movies, memories, and creepy topics that a person could fill slots with. They may not all be good ideas, but I could sure as shit build a meaty list. The obvious challenge was always execution.
Having done this twice, I knew what to expect. I had a hard time conceiving a future in which I wouldn’t finish this thing, but hey, shit happens. People go into major things with great intentions all of the time, and unfortunately, it doesn’t always work. I for one, believe that there are a variety of factors that could lead to the collapsing of a passion project such as this.
First of all, a major project killer could simply be the length or overall scope of the project itself. I can think back to a lot of different film ideas and even a crazy podcast-related one involving a major network with daily content. At the very start, there was nothing but positive energy and a can-do attitude. These were sexy new mountains to climb and conquer. As time would progress, reality would set in. These are some fucking high mountains, and I’m not even sure I’ve got all the correct climbing gear. In the example of my podcast network idea, I didn’t really consider what running a podcast network would really mean. It was daily uploads and constantly having fresh content. That’s a lot of discipline, especially for the person that I was when I originally came up with this idea. At the time, I had not even thought about giving up substances. On top of that, energy and creative projects were severely lacking.
My grand pod network died very quickly. The two main podcasts that started it all are still active, which is nice, but no network in sight. I am not saying that you should give up on a project if you come to realize that it’s too large or you get yourself burned out. It may just be time to regroup. Is there a way to scale it down and still produce something cool? Maybe it’s time to shelve it for now and work on something else. It may be a project better suited for future you. A you who has gone through more nasty shit and has gotten a chance to grow more. I’m not ready to ever totally abandon old ideas. There’s always a chance to bring old dreams back to life. Unfortunately, that’s not the only way a good project can collapse. I’ve hit many potholes from lack of results.
For this one, I can actually produce a current example: my YouTube channel. Sometimes I’ll keep kicking a bunch of ideas around for long periods of time. During that time I’ll often ask myself, “Is this even worth all of the effort?”. Oh, man. That’s a great way to just keep these projects in the mind and pages of the journal. It is not crazy to want to see results for your efforts. You may even want to dive into analytics and experiment with new things. Still not crazy. What is crazy though is letting the lack of results stop you. I still struggle with this. The negative self-talk, the blockages, and the refreshing of pages over and over. In the moments of doubt, it’s a good idea to re-calibrate. Yes, the same thing that served as a solution to the first thing that collapse projects can also help this one. You may call it lazy, I just call it a crazy coincidence.
When you take a second to chill out, you can remind yourself why you started. Isn’t it fun and exciting to create beautiful art out of your wildest inner visions? It’s not about pleasing anybody else, it’s about you. Whether you do or do not want to pursue those ideas that you have on the back burner, who cares? Just don’t stop. It does suck pouring your soul into something only to have a small audience and little to no engagement, it really fucking does. But the next one? It could be the one that does it. Maybe not, but what if the views and engagement doubled? After that, who knows how much further you could go? If you stop now, that’s it. You’d never get those elusive results, that again, don’t matter. You did all those projects and most likely had some help along the way, which means you also likely had some great laughs and general bonding moments. This leads me to the third and final big reason why major projects can collapse. The last reason is trying to do too much on your own.
The last example is an easy one: The MPS 31-Days of Halloween marathon. When I first had the idea to do 31 days of content for the month of October, I knew it was bat-shit crazy. I also knew that I could totally pull it off. I started early enough in the year and more importantly, had a kick-ass group of people to help me. If I tried to tackle 31 pieces of content alone, I could easily burn out, come to resent the whole thing, and maybe eventually send it to the half-finished project graveyard. I’m happy to say that I’ve now got a total of three 31-day marathons. Grand things are not often created alone. If you have a grand idea that’s barely hanging on by thread, yet you still think there’s hope, maybe it is time to grow that team.
Now, where the hell was I? Oh yeah, the marathon that I was currently working on. So, I had managed to finish another. We were able to produce a ton of cool shit. New shit, old favorites, just lots and lots of shit. I was pleased and quite proud, but still feeling off. It wasn’t the jolt that I was looking for. The truth is, I don’t think there was or would have ever been a magical jolt. Sometimes you just happen to be in a blah phase of life. The trick in my current situation was to just put my head down and get through it. I was deep into my math class and though it was online, on my time, I was still pretty stressed. It had been so long since I’d done any math and had dumped a lot out of my brain.
Weeks leading up to the class, my head raced with anxiety. I had no idea what to expect. Would I have to memorize a bunch of formulas and shit? “Ah, shut up brain! We made it this far, it’ll be fine!”, I’d often have to remind myself. It was just like before with the other classes. Stay calm and shut down doubts. I had the tools.
Right away, some of my early worries were squashed when I found out that we’d get to use notes for the quizzes and tests. That was a huge help. As long as I could just grasp the material while being able to read my atrocious handwriting, I could actually become a college grad.
By the time Winter rolled around, I was wiped out. Class days were long, and classwork was becoming very tedious. Luckily though, I was feeling much more confident than before. My score was quite high due to the power of consistency and some good test scores. I now knew that I could pass without a doubt. In my exhaustion, I could still really appreciate that feeling. I used to think it was just an associate’s degree and would wonder, what’s the big deal? People may still think that, and it’s totally fine. I don’t see it that way anymore though. This isn’t just a degree, it represents the human spirit. It is years of struggle, a symbol that I can one day look at and know that I didn’t quit. Lastly, it’s a promise fulfilled to a special person.
The final exam was a long cumulative assessment. I had my struggles and didn’t have the complete course lessons fully nailed, yet I didn’t have the usual nerves. I was more filled with anticipation for the end and just some general hype. It’s possible that this would be the last exam that I’d ever take. I didn’t feel like I had to really soak it in or anything like that though. I just wanted my life back. It was time to start full-time creating again.
Of course, I never really stopped creating. A creator never truly stops. Sometimes there just happens to be some lulls in the magic. I don’t ever expect to be a constant, creative robot, and I know the truth about these lulls and creative burnout. I also know when the break has started to feel excruciatingly long. That’s usually when it’s time to force yourself back into things until it feels natural again. I know we sure as hell aren’t here forever. It was great to hit this personal, academic goal. What really gets my motor running though? Creative goals.
When I look back at everything I’ve done, it’s a long-ass list. Some things on there I can barely even remember writing or producing, yet there they are. It’s awesome to have this to look back on whenever I need a boost. I love the reminder to myself that I have the ability to get cool shit done, however, for as long as it is, I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface. There’s still so much to do. For instance, I’d like to be able to make a full-length feature film before I die. A very meaty goal, yes, but I’ve seen and been through some serious shit. I could pull that off. I have ambition, ideas, drive, and lots of awesome friends who are willing to help. The one thing that I really seem to be running out of is time.
One of the first things I did after finishing my exam was make the annual Christmas episode of the podcast. This would be the fifth one since rebooting the podcast back in 2020. Holy shit! Where the hell did all that time go? Even with all of the projects stacking up, whenever I finish a project, it still always just seems like a build-up to something bigger. I can’t help but wonder if I should have seen that project all the way through to the end or come up with a different concept entirely. Was I pushing down a more ambitious project for something easier or more lazy, just so that I could say that I had shot something? Can I still enjoy the process and be strict about deadlines? How the fuck can I possibly be in my 30s already?
Of all those rapid-fire questions, the last one kept replaying in my head as I awoke on the morning of my 34th birthday. It was strange. I wasn’t feeling all that old, but for the last five years or so, things felt like sort of a trance. In my haze, I grieved and created like a madman, never really thinking about age. For some reason though, on this particular Winter morning, it has hit me hard in the face. I guess it was just a matter of time. I know it’s not for some unknown reason. I was already working my way out of a previous hole, and the very obvious fact was that even if you think it’s just another day on the calendar, it represents another year and more sand from the hourglass. For me, it has always been a time for reflection, both on good and not-so-good things.
I started with the bad stuff as I reflected in my cozy bed that morning. I was working very had to pull myself out of the pit, but the Winter was kicking my ass. The long dark was rearing its ugly head and even though it was now weeks after my last exam, there was little to no improvement. I was sleeping like shit, I had lots more anxiety than I was generally accustomed to, and I was often letting my anger get the best of me.
This was no ordinary pit. It lingered long and ran very deep. I had all the right kinds of tools and could even consult old journal entries for inspiration, I just needed more of the right kinds of action. I say the right kind because it’s not like I wasn’t taking any. I was back to creative land, and while that was good, I was neglecting some other things that were a pretty big deal. Everything matters. A balance is needed to maintain optimal life. Words that I so obviously knew, yet in recent practice, that’s all they became. Nothing more than hollow, useless, words. Since starting school, I had slowly started letting workouts slip until they got to the point where three solid efforts a week would be considered a good week. The lack of workouts affected my overall motivation and consistency. From there I started going heavy on the energy drinks, spending a lot of nights tossing and turning. Small slips turned into big ones, and soon enough I got very comfortable with this life. It’s not like work and school wasn’t a lot of work. I did deserve to have breaks, but I also deserved way better treatment from myself.
I looked up at the fast-spinning blades of the fan, still deep in thought. “I’ve got to turn this around. I will turn this around.” The first step towards doing that, in my mind, was to shift from the bad and focus now on some good. For one thing, I finally fucking graduated. It was a big deal. I still remember that young, unmotivated, asshole very well. That version of me was a big dreamer, which I’m so grateful for, but the drive just wasn’t there. I often skated by, just feeling that everything would work out because up until that point, everything had. I was a rather privileged person. I wasn’t rich or anything, but I had a pretty cushy childhood. I had good friends and tried just hard enough to get through high school. I assumed that with big dreams and hope, you could have whatever you wanted. I had never meant to get myself so far off course, I just got to a point where giving up seemed to be the most viable option. Worse yet, I just felt I wasn’t good enough for all this stuff anymore. What I was good at? Partying.
With partying being the new focus and sole motivation, that degree seemed to fade more and more with each passing year, until I eventually stopped thinking about it altogether. If only that drunken bastard could see me now.
More good? It was my birthday, which meant I made it another year. I was in good health too. In fact, I was feeling much better now than I had felt through a lot of my 20s. I could now feel my eyes grow less heavy and an overall shift in my energy. “Come on pal, we’re not that old yet, but at the same time, move your fucking ass!”
Later that day, we visited a mall and walked around for a bit, as per my special birthday request, of course. I felt a little bit frustrated because my Dad had insisted on a specific restaurant for that evening. It was a detail that had been mentioned to me previously, like over a week ago previously. Oops. Damn this memory! This kept options limited for birthday plans in the afternoon. To be fair though, it was also my Dad’s birthday. I know, crazy shit, right? With that in mind, I figured maybe it was just a place he really liked, so it was whatever.
When I made my way into the crowded restaurant that evening, I was immediately thrown off guard. The first figure to catch my eye was my friend Johnnie. What a weird coincidence! A few more feet in, plenty more familiar faces. Now it all makes sense why this specific place at this specific time. My family had thrown me a surprise birthday/graduation party. There were lots of family, friends, and great food. The fact that I had felt any frustration had now made me feel like an asshole. I couldn’t sit and dwell on it though, as I was working my way out of the pit as it was. What I could do was try to learn from it and do my best to change. Actually, it’s more of a responsibility to myself and less of a “could”. Being aware of one’s own assholeishness is just half the battle.
I tried to stay in the moment and just enjoy every bit of that party. It had been so long since I’d seen some of these people and had no idea when I’d see some again. Another reality of that ticking clock is the fact the lives get busy, thus making things more difficult to plan. I try to acknowledge these moments. More good stuff to add to the list from the morning: friends and family. I have a long list of really cool, supportive, people. That’s something not everybody gets to say.
My list of good was looking, well, good! I was happy to be back into some positive thinking again, but I kept myself in check. It’s not an overnight process to get back to the warm and fuzzy days of discipline and non-stop content creation. Forward progress is always killer though.
The party wrapped up as I said my goodbyes and shoveled one last piece of cake into my mouth. A few months passed and I find myself holding that letter about the postage. I think about the previous journey, among others. The long run, the long dark, and pits. If I didn’t write it down, sometimes it’d be hard to believe. I shift my eyes down toward the contents of the letter once more. The upcoming graduation ceremony would be the final milestone of this back to school saga. It would then be time for the next challenge. I had no clue what would be next on the agenda, but I looked forward to it.
We’re now in the present moment and it is time to wrap things up. I still have no major future plans, just a few ideas. I would also say, I’m not fully out of my pit. I don’t see a clear path to get back to those manic years of creation. It’s also possible that going back to an exact replica of that is no longer possible.
What I am doing, however, is going back to basics. I’m using tools that I’ve acquired from past lessons. I’m listening to positive audio and getting more positive myself. My head is down and I’m putting in work. I’m continuing to write, even if it comes out sloppy on paper and often sounds like the rantings of a lunatic. I’ll continue to hold my large dreams close to my heart, realizing that the clock keeps on ticking. I’ll see this age, acknowledge it, finish mourning the loss of the previous one, and finally let it go. There’s a whole lifetime of magic ahead of me. I’ll never know if I need to catch up or how deep the pits will get. I don’t know a lot of things, but I’ll continue to battle until I can no longer hold a pen…which I hope is not for a long, long time. I mean, come on, 34 isn’t that old, right? Right?!
Media Pod Smash, off!
END
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support
-
Episode 198.5 – Hot Together

Summary
In this special audio-only episode, I talk about how the 30-day challenge has been going, get hyped for GTA 6 with some speculations and a top 5 list, and dive into another edition of Oh The Memories!
The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com
This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials
—
Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support

