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Your Questions About Finding New Niches

Susan asks…

i can commit suicide or move without money to New York City…which should i do?

i am a grown up guy living in a small town with a small job in a small life and i am

stuck. i feel like a permanent inmate somewhere who copes with a life sentence by fixing

up their cell by putting pictures or drawings or girlies on the wall. You can get real

comfortable in your sleep you know if sleep is all you have, even in the worst conditions,

even in a pile of shite, especially if it is sufficiently familiar

shite. People get used to the worst things, if they have to. And i could in fact do this

forever. There are books here of course, a small library, movies, and there is the

internet. i could live for these things and be bored and

comfortable and dead inside until i die, no problem. Now i go for walks every evening and


is very little crime here, the sunsets are pretty. I should be grateful, right? So many

people are suffering in so many ways and they dont have anything like this simple life

that i can so easily continue. But i see the smiling nodding walking nearly dead all

around me everyday, and the spark inside them is fading, if ever it existed at all. Their

eyes turn downward farther and farther away from whatever dreariness is before them,

their faces sometimes covered over by anger, sometimes lighted by a twitching fear, most often expressing nothing

at all, not even their unremembered dreams. It is this nothing, this painless disease of the chronically empty heart that i most want to avoid. Everyone

works at a job they wildly or mildly hate and marches on in silence for one of two

reasons… either to support their kids or because they never imagined that there could

really be anything better. Not really truly. Not for people like us, the non-Celebrities.

I have no family and so I lack that value and that sacrifice

and that excuse. For me there is no escape from freedom. I am sadly free. I know nothing

is more boring than to hear someone is thinking of suicide but sorry, when those thoughts

do come to me these days what strikes me most is the lack of any kind of drama remaining

in the concept. Not at all like when i was a romantic teenager. At most it would be a bit

inconvenient for a few folks. Paperwork. I would responsibly preclean up my mess. And I, a

constant writer, cannot imagine any note i would require to create or to whom it might be left. Now

thats pretty bad. But when i was a kid i did hitchhike to New

York City. I really did do this before. it was horrible and dangerous and I was stupid and

it was

difficult to the point of absurdity in every way, but…but…I was more intensely alive there than anywhere else I

have ever been. New

York will do that to you. I remember walking through Central Park like opening and then becoming a character in a new and

impossibly interesting novel everyday and riding the subway like being invited on a quick and noisy

trip to some colorful but convenient Moon. I remember all the laughably cheap or often freely offered treasure things you can find

if you look in the niches and the backways of the hidden but welcoming City and the way

the streets smell like laughter in foreign languages and the magic lantern parade of a

million unpredictable human or so very very far from human faces lighted on display for my inspection on every

upraised holy filthy sidewalk corner, if only I could offer up the courage to raise my childish eyes

enough to celebrate and see. Celebration was the price of seeing, there just like anywhere. It was a place to be awake in. It was Godawful. It was

Godwonderful. If I go I wont have anything, just like before, but I will be smarter.

Mebbe. I am resourceful. I can figure things out. I will be

homeless for a while but I will eventually find a little room and some kind of job. Just a poor

life. A small life. Nothing special. But I will be there, instead

of here. And alive. Should I go?

New Niche Finder answers:

Move to nyc its really great there =)

David asks…

Can you critique/proofread this piece?

This is for a college essay, and I’m looking for fluency, mechanics, grammatical errors, etc. I can’t print it and I know I tend to slack in proofreading when I’ve written and fully understand what I’m trying to talk about. Anyhow,

A pair of white lights, blinding, fixed on me. Sniffling, I made the decision, the curious decision not to wipe my eyes. Watery, my lips pulled into a pathetic quiver I brought my head up to look at the vehicle. It was also white, grayed by the darkness of the night for the place I’d chosen to stroll was oddly devoid of streetlamps. Without their comforting glow my heart raced as I focused on the white, only to turn my head and watch as they became red, my wordless plea ignored for the fourth or fifth time.

Today, I had decided somewhere along the line was my boiling point. The rising action in the least linear story (a Kurt Vonnegut-esque tale of dramatics and my being led by a surprising lack of personal knowledge) was fixed on this being the day where I would finally tell everyone about the building pressure within me. I’d say, confidently and eloquently with hand gestures that my former speech and debate team would be proud of, “My life is at a rough spot. I need help, and I don’t need you to understand but I need you to respect me and to listen.” It was true. I was having all the success of someone attempting to push a heavy object past a carpet and my stamina was exhausted. I was exhausted.

The life I’d lived was by no means simple. One usually gathered that when they asked where my mother was and I told them cheerfully that I didn’t know. My grandmother was her quasi replacement, though I saw her as a grandmother rather than any sort of mother figure. Ironically, I’d been more of a mother than she was, raising three siblings much younger than me for several years. Her sharp reprimanding hand and personal troubles ensured that things weren’t easy, but in retrospect it served as a huge distraction. It was like someone pinching you to distract from a mild and constant headache, cauliflower bruised skin a weathered reminder of its convenience. However, her constant presence and penchant for causing trouble inadvertently affected me that night, though I’d been living away from her for roughly seven years.

My father did not understand. I had not expected him to as I poured out my heart. I spoke of a non-congruency within my mind, of social isolation and awkwardness and physical confusion. My interest in medicine, two or three years running had led me to a surprising dead end, though I did find the terms a few times on the internet and in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (IV) but the conclusion was painful and I merely scoffed at the time.

I was not smiling, or doing anything that resembled it. Almost as I began my voice wavered dangerously, my eyes locked on his due to my training in speaking but constantly interrupted by blinking. I told him in a rushed way about the hours I spent alone at night thinking about life. Speaking slowly, I told him that I had personal image issues. They reflected in my faux nonchalant attitude about grades and in my interactions with others. I grinned a lot even though my teeth were never immaculate, so people had the general assumption that I’d achieved the average level of teenage happiness that comes with constant company, risqué choices, and the leeching lifestyle that many would dream of. I had company of a few constant friends, but hardly during the daytime outside of school. My niche was shrinking—my friends finding new friends in ways I was slightly numb to. I missed them actively, but was inactive, lethargic. I wanted so many things, but mostly happiness.
Explaining this to him, I voiced my desire to still have a life (if not average, interesting) and an education and a serious relationship preferably after I got this issue sorted out, my words quick but not slurred. My eyes were wide in hope of at least compassion. I explained that my self-esteem wasn’t exactly low—I had no qualms with the body I had in terms of how bodies are. I knew I was fit enough, attractive enough, and I convinced myself easily that those pimples would go away with age and maturity. It never bothered me but it also never felt right. I was at a disconnect with it, as if it were a rather unattractive computer and I was the modem. I was required, my mind, to bring it any interest yet it offered me nothing. Peering curiously to the mirror, I quickly covered myself with a towel after exiting showers or in pools. Something about it didn’t seem right, nor did the way people were treating me for it.
“In retrospect,” I told him as he sat in a plastic chair, the one he’d bought when my siblings destroyed our nice La-Z-Boy, “It all kind-of makes sense.” I added the condition, not ready for the certainty that I even fully understood. I was ready though. I wanted to pick up my grades to live a life that I could be proud of, a life beyond mediocrity and simple blue-collar work that I’d want to forget about the second I’d get home. I wanted to be happy about that with the simplicity I’d had when I was a child. I always romped with the boys, playing King of the Hill and Dig the Hole and Dodgeball. I told him a lot of people like me displayed behaviour like that as a kid. His gaze was diverted to his shoes, which he apparently found suddenly interesting. My eyes didn’t flicker to the worn leather.
Speaking softly and wiping my eyes I’d become a bit calmer. He seemed to understand that I didn’t want the interjections of “I’m watching this” or “Later”, but he sat and existed for me. My feet shuffled as I sat, telling him about my social awkwardness (not just because I find puns funnier than the average person) and discontent with drinking or high-school parties to fit in. I wanted out of a society I saw as a day-care-centre for teenagers. I had not taken any interesting classes yet, probably due to my high level of indifference toward most things.
In my time alone I played videogames and managed a network of digital friends. I spoke to a woman who was part of a theatre troupe and expressed interest in helping her. I went to a theatre/cinema and enjoyed films alone, free of charge. I drew a lot and wrote, but did not trust that to keep me afloat. The difficulty in continuing a lacklustre life because you don’t feel like you have a body is a bizarre one. Your sense of self is residing in something alien that your new hair-cut only does so much to remedy. Faux sideburns brushed my cheeks with the wind, tears causing my cheeks to become cold but not flushed in the night.
The story of me telling had ended well with polite questions, but as I heard him discussing it later in an offensive manner and confronting him proudly I’d discovered that he was nowhere near as accepting as I’d have hoped. He said it was “my life” but he would have nothing to do with it, though he claimed acceptance. The ensuing argument had hurt my throat. My stubbornness and determination I’d assume finds some root within him, and my unwillingness to back down from my sudden epiphany was nearly abrasive to him. I left the house quickly because he’d suggested that I’d never have what I wanted to be my goal.
He had misunderstood me. “I identify… I am a trans-man,” I said to him simply, standing with what firmness my shaking anger and deep disappointment could grant. “A transgender male, or a male in a female’s body. I have nothing when I look in a mirror and I’d like one day to look at the image and feel comfortable. I have pride, but I feel as if no one can see who I truly am and they judge me incorrectly. I can’t live my entire life like this.” The world against me, I decided, was less a less formidable enemy than living in my depression the rest of my life. This act has been called bravery, but it wasn’t, I’d held this building plot and I could no longer bear the burden alone. He thought I meant that I’d like to be just like a natal male one day.
My true goal wasn’t that—I simply wanted happiness. I wanted the happiness granted with little moments and the assurance that your existence isn’t futile. You exist to help, to create, and to enjoy all of the things that life could provide and do all you could to get the chance. I simply wanted the same chance at a content life as everyone else, starting from the inside out. The night sounded of cars and the occasional siren, cicadas having fallen from their summer parties long ago and crickets unsettlingly quiet. My sniffles were there too, but I focused on stopping as I walked into the 7-11 with shuffling steps and my eyes to the floor. I’d selected my favourite sour candy straws and a glazed “hunny bon”, as if childishness and Winnie the Pooh were acceptable to associate with my “depression food”. I went to the checkout, eyes fixing on gum, cigarettes, and assorted tabloid magazines with the latest Obama “scandal”.
The man grinned, “Hey man,” He said, his eyebrows rising in what might’ve been concern but he brushed it off, “Total’s $4.15.” My lips pulled back to match his expression, a bizarre half smile as I handed over a five dollar bill and turned the returned to a little deposit that said in curly white “Take a penny, leave a penny.” I took my change and thanked him, dropping the coins into blue plastic, before heading for the door.

New Niche Finder answers:

Http://orangoo.com/spellcheck/ <perfect grammar checker..doesnt do capitalization though..ive been looking for one… Im 13 so I tend to get bored when I start to read writeing that isn't hmm..interesting to me..good luck try and do this on ur own!
Http://www.jspell.com/ajax-spell-checker.html <also a good gramar checker.

Mary asks…

Exciting new website launched by up and coming…..?


This bloke I know and am extremely fond of has found his niche in life – he has started a website – its absolutely brilliant and at the moment is only visited by friends and family!

Could you please please take a look and tell me what you think of it!

good and bad comments please – I just want to know if his sites as brilliant as I think it is. Many of us who visit now think he could have a real cult following and he could even get a bit of a fan club – maybe write a book one day?

Make sure you read “recent news and updates” also look at Pet Profiles, thats brilliant and really gives you an insight! Oh and place your name on his guestbook if you think his site is good – no swearing please – his kids read it daily

Thanks for your input – its appreciated!

Grace x

OMG how stupid am I LOL!!!! sorry!!!
Hi there – to dalicsious – the links should be there on the left – I think your right though the front page could be cooler! I shall mention this to him!

New Niche Finder answers:

Thats not a bad site, I’ve seen loads worse! Most of it loaded really fast (I’m on dial up). It was clear what the site was about from the homepage – always an advantage – and I thought the colour scheme went with the subject.
Theres just one gripe. The photos weren’t optimised for the web! They need to be re-sized to be web freindly, not photo print size.
The average web page is 800 x 600 pixels, so photos can be 400 x 300 pixels or thereabouts. The one on the homepage was just too big at 800 x 600 and took an age to load. Especially since it was shown at about 500 pixels wide, which meant that the browser had to download it then re-size it.
Its always best to resize your photos before you add them to the page, you can do it using Paint by opening it, Save As a copy (to keep the original safe) and going to Image – Skew/Distort. Then change the width and height by the same percentage.
Or by using a free image editor such as Irfanview.
Pass that info to your mate and ask him to re-size his pics!

Charles asks…

Exciting new Website launched by up and coming….?

This bloke I know and am extremely fond of has found his niche in life – he has started a website – its absolutely brilliant and at the moment is only visited by friends and family!

Could you please please take a look and tell me what you think of it!

good and bad comments please – I just want to know if his sites as brilliant as I think it is. Many of us who visit now think he could have a real cult following and he could even get a bit of a fan club – maybe write a book one day?

Make sure you read “recent news and updates” also look at Pet Profiles, thats brilliant and really gives you an insight! Oh and place your name on his guestbook if you think his site is good – no swearing please – his kids read it daily

Thanks for your input – its appreciated!

Grace x

OMG how stupid am I LOL!!!! sorry!!!

New Niche Finder answers:

Loads of good contents, regular updates – nice! – the only thing I would say is the design itsself is simple though the contents defentatly makes up for that but its something to look at.

Mark asks…

Do you think i might make it as a comedian?

I aspire to be a stand up comic, i listen to alot of stand up comedy (i am listening to one of my favorite comedy channels on pandora right now) and i want to know what my chances are of making it and publishing a few albums. I can’t give you guys an example of course because most of comedy is in the delivery. However everyday i do about fifteen uninterupted minuites of standup on the bus every day (i am in high school so this is to an audience of my peirs i’m not just some jackass yelling humour at strangers on the grey hound) and almost all of it gets great responses and i am hoping to play an open mic night somewhere (sugestions would be great, my schools open mic nights are out of the question as my material is very inapropriate) but what do you think the chances are that i could grow up, move to new york, find my niche and be successful as a comedian.

New Niche Finder answers:

Well. That’s not rlly a question that can be answered by people who hav never met you. And also through text…I would try asking your friends instead?…lol

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