On Sunday, July 1, I will be flying back to Seoul, South Korea, for the first time in 8.5 years. I will be in Seoul until July 31.
While I have a packed schedule ahead of me, I am interested in meeting up with those of you who are still in Korea. I'll still be watching UFC events while I'm in Korea, so if you want to watch those with me, we can do that and drink some beers and talk some shit (UFC starts at 7am/8am in Korea).
In regard to the UFC threads, I'll try to post them all (5 in total) before I leave to Korea. Nothing should change in regard to me being active during UFC events, aside from not being able to play in DraftKings events due to the country restriction.
Traveling on very little sleep is unpleasant. I had barely any room on the plane. All hunched over and drooling half a sleep like someone full of psych meds in the psych ward.
I slept 13 hours last night. I needed it but I think I am carrying a bit of grogginess from sleeping that many hours.
I am going to a welcome party tonight for one of my best friends from college and his future wife. I have never met her. I have never met a lot of the people going to the wedding. That causes some anxiety for me. It will be good to see my suite mates from university though. I am just kind of killing time before I can burn any physical energy I have in the gym.
I get to enjoy this weekend and then get my ass into gear on getting a job. It's about that time. I believe it was nice to step out for a bit and get a lot of reading in. I believe it pushed me forward as a human being. Not that I am going to stop reading altogether but it might be geared to more novels and I may have to hit the job networking trail in AA. Not that that every worked in the past. Meaningful work is something I may have never had ever and I don't know what the chances are of me finding it now. That is depressing. Sometimes there does not seem like hope for me in the future. I think I need to help people and be a political activist. I think that might be my only way out. I am not prolific enough in any form of art to transcend time enough of the time.
I just write these damn blogs. Sometimes I'm in it. Sometimes like today it is just sort of happening. I feel better though. I'm making a wager that I will have a good time tonight at dinner. Who really knows? I made a wager that I would have a good time on a family vacation and it was overall a splendid time. There is something about family and good friends that the gut just says it will work out. Even if we just talk about old stories that will be good enough for me. I think where I have issue is MY future. I can talk about the future. I love talking about the future but where I will fit into that future is where it gets troublesome. I don't want to be some guy working shitty jobs and living with his parents forever. All I can be is me and not care what other people think about me. I can always just be a recluse and read books. I have been there before and am not afraid to be there in the future.
I am sitting in an airport tired. Surrounded by all the disjointed conversations. I got very little sleep because I was up until the early morning sharing conversation with my sister, brother and brother-in-law.
On Children:
I have never been that engulfed by childrens' energy before. They are at times delightful and at times equally or more so unpleasant. I don't know though. I was giving my one nephew a good bye hug and he said "I wuv you onkle Rishard." It's hard not to love that little guy. Given that they are already here we might as well make the best of it.
On Jamie Dimon:
My brother idolizes this guy. Jamie is his owner and master. I have gotten into it in the past over the 2008 fiasco and bitcoin but didn't really have the facts on the former. I was pretty pissed last night sitting there listening to him fawn over this fucking douchebag criminal but I didn't actually have any evidence to support my position and even if I did I am not sure I would want to unleash it. I am too tired to go searching for lucid sources right now but assuming I do should I unleash the evidence on my brother if he starts talking about what a genius CEO his company has?
Overall, it was a good trip. I don't get to spend quality time like that with my family basically ever anymore. I am looking forward to getting back home though. I really was missing some peace and quiet. I bet when I get the peace and quiet I will be missing some of the activity.
I suppose the prolificness of my blog writing has slowed down as of late. I have been traveling a lot and have not had much of a chance to post. It is a good thing.
I wanted to write about Father's Day. Bullshit is the first word that comes to mind. Celebrating natalism with more consumerism. Celebrating false immortality projects and God-complexes. "Exploit new markets or better exploit current ones" -Marx . Deuces.
I feel like telling the story of how I lost my virginity. I was extremely drunk. Surprise, surprise. We were at a strip club in Argentina which is really just a front for prostitution. This prostitute was very persuasive. I still to this day have not been kissed like that. We go to a motel. I am blindingly drunk, nervous, exited, seduced. I sit on the bed and she does a strip tease. She unbuttons my jeans and I take off my shirt. She gives me the best blow job of my life while fingering my prostate. I am in bliss. I remember feeling a little violated with a finger in my bumhole but it felt quite good so I just laid back and relaxed. After a while, pretty much when I was adequately hard she sat on my dick and rode me like a stallion. I wouldn't call myself a stallion. I'm no pornstar and certainly not in that moment. In that moment I was just an alcoholic nerd with anxiety problems fulfilling his dream to get laid by an attractive woman. Actually, she wasn't even all that attractive but her body was phenomenal. Large breasts that were bouncing when she was riding me and occasionally she would smother me with them as if it were a lap dance. I didn't last very long and had quite an enjoyable orgasm. I remember she took the condom off my penis and ate the semen straight from the condom. I was like what the fuck is she doing? That's kind of hot. Why do I think that's kind of hot?
She asked if I wanted to take a shower with her. I said no and got the hell out of there. I don't know if I carried a shame around with me. I was really just happy that I had finally lost my virginity and had gotten that out of the way.
I think I do carry a shame around with me with the amount of sexual partners I've had. I was supposed to be this sexually promiscuous playboy and I was not. The thing is when I have sex it is freeing in the moment and it is fun but even though I carry with me a certain confidence and feel good surrounding the experience I tend to feel a certain loneliness and emptiness even if the woman is lying there right next to me. Especially if she is lying there next to me. I enjoy the smell of her hair on the pillow the next morning after she has gone. I think I carry with me a certain swagger but then there is also a deep existential loneliness. Sex was supposed to liberate me. Take me to a higher plane. It was supposed to be the solution and sadly it is not. I have a hole in my soul and sex is not the missing puzzle piece. It's important for me to have a sane dating life and ideally monogamous relationships. We have been through this many times I believe but it is something I have to hammer home. I have to watch it with substances, gambling, capitalism, materialism, consumerism, sex, et al. The substances seem actually pretty easy these days. I just abstain. But, I constantly have to make wagers in an uncertain world, deal in a capitalist society, and I have to consume to some degree. I don't have to take part in any materialistic mirage anymore. I supposed I can abstain from sex but I think I can be "right sized" about it. Time will tell. It's more freeing letting go some of these toxic masculine cultural norms than it is to come inside of a women or on her or on some sheets.
I have the blinds open, and the sun is glaring at me. It feels good, but i know there is so much more to be had. I am typing out on here, as one of the few means that i still have, to express myself and have open communication with those around me. Because i have been sheltered for the past couple of months. I want to say that i've only been playing this silly game, and that's what it is, but i know that that's actually a lie.
Because when i do see, those of whom i call my friends, when they ask me how i've been, i get uncomfortable. I only want to tell them about my goals, about what i've been doing, but not about how i actually feel.
What do i say? How do you want me to answer that? Would you understand? I don't want to become a burden.
These are the kinds of thoughts that go through my mind. And that's because, i've been in a pretty dark mood lately. I've been getting frustrated and all, and i think i know what the right way is, the right path. But it's so difficult to go with that, and it's so much easier to have a narrative, a story. That you have you and your past, and that all that you do is about that, done because of that. And you tell yourself, it's just one more thing. It's just one more mistake to add on to my list of mistakes. But that's unhealthy. And all of which you tell yourself only becomes larger, and more uncontrollable.
So what's the deal. Why am i this way?
Well, perhaps its because i am still attached to all of that which has happened. Or maybe it's because i'm just flat out depressed. But from what i know, it's time for a change, it's time for something different. And not only in mindset, but in action as well.
I write this all out, not because i want to be heard. I mean, of course i would appreciate that, in the very same way that i appreciate whoever it is who is reading this. But for today, the reason i write is because i just want to put it all out there for once. If i'm not going to tell anyone about what goes on, then this is the least i can do.
And so, I can only hope that my words don't weigh as heavily on you, as they do on me.
But.
It's because it's easy to be tempted, and it's easy to give in. That's why. And it's easy to tell yourself what you've been telling yourself all of this time. It feels good.
But i've realized. It's far better to let go of it all. And that's what i should probably do now.
Because you are not that which has happened. You are only the you, the you who is here now. The you, who feels genuine concern, over the well-being of yourself, and of others. The you, who wishes that it was different, but in reality, is still centering around his past, his mistakes.
And so, it's time to let go of it all for once. It's time to be good to yourself, and to be kind to yourself. It's time to finally let go of that which you think is perfect, of that finely-tuned image of who you should and shouldn't be.
Because you don't have to live up to anything anymore. You don't have to keep pretending. You can become the person you want to be, right here, right now. This is why you feel the way that you do. There IS no standard, there is nothing that you HAVE to do. It's not because of that time, or that moment that went the other way. It's because of that which you've been telling yourself. That you aren't good enough, and that you weren't good enough. But the truth is, you are wrong. And i'm going to tell you that today, that you ARE wrong. Because you ARE good enough, Kevin.
So forget that. And forget about all of the experiences that have told you otherwise. You ARE good enough, and you deserve to feel that way.
So quit feeling so down. Quit moping around. Smile. Enjoy what you're doing. Because you're actually fortunate enough to be able to. There are others who are less fortunate and they're only trying to get by. Your issues are only in your mind. You have food and drink, you have good company, and all you have to do is sit around and play video games all day.
So yeah. It's not about your analysis. It's not about your worry. And it sure isn't about your issues. So go out there, have fun, and do what you love doing.
I feel that I should write this to see if it works. I am still a little amped up after my job interview today.
I have been anxious about it mildly. This morning I passed the time and woke up like I always do with some Monster Energy Drinks and LP. There were no aesthetic concerns in the gym whatsoever today. Oh, by the way, sorry Loco, I was on Tinder and a girl had Avicii "True" on her album list or whatever it is and I thought to myself "was that album as shitty as I remember?" so I listened to "True" and it was as shitty as I remembered but then I felt bad because I think Avicii killed himself because he wanted to be a true musician but was not BUT he was incredible at curating music. That was his talent. He was making a new album which probably sucked and he knew it and he would rather kill himself than go on tour as a DJ. Of course, there is depression and alcoholism involved in that story too but I always felt like Avicii was my brother. Anyways, that may have gotten rather long winded but the point is I listened to Avicii's INSPIRATION mix on Spotify instead of Dead Congregation this morning for my lifting session.
So, yeah, no aesthetic concerns today I was going full throttle. My goal was to expend as much energy as possible over the course of training. I got that lovely rush of feel good chemicals and that sweaty, tired but energized haze. I love that. I got some post workout nutrition and then started looking at the sweet shop's webpage. Then I decided to read some "Infinite Jest." Then I got lost in "infinite Jest." Thankfully I set an alarm clock or I would have just kept on reading. I've been watching some of his (David Foster Wallace) interviews on YouTube and I love this guy. Truly love this guy. I love the way he reacts to stupid questions. I love his facial ticks when he is self-conscious about the answer he just gave. I love what he has to say. I love what he has to write. A truly beautiful human being.
Ok. So, now I am snapped back to reality that I have a job interview in a little bit. The anxiety starts to sink in. I was actually pretty nervous on the ride down. Then there is crazy beach traffic as it started to rain and everyone is trying to leave. I still get there at a reasonable time. I am feeling ok actually. The General Manager is late so now I have to sit and be tortured for who knows how long. A friendly woman gets me some water. My hand is shaking as I drink the water. Some mixture of nerves, anxiety, and perhaps my lithium levels being too high but my lithium seems to exacerbate any adrenaline, anxiety, caffeine, etc. anyways with hand tremors even at a normal level. I decide to just start texting anyone I can. I am actually quite funny when I am in that mode. Finally, the GM says hi and shakes my hand. I'm surprisingly not that nervous or anxious. Just a good amount. Maybe I was too intense. But, I can be an intense person. Oh, I have to tell you this. What felt right to me at the time was what I wear pretty much every day. Black t-shirt, flowery linen shorts, and sandals. I figure if they don't like me so be it. I thought the interview went ok. The GM loves Argentina too so we started off on a good chat about that. He made a positive comment about my sandals being Havainas. I applied to work in the sweet shop. Basically serving ice cream to people. I figure it's something to do and I can learn about how a shop like that runs. My sister and brother-in-law are thinking about opening up a coffee shop and I thought it would be awesome to help them do that but I want experience so there I was at the interview and it turns out they need someone in the kitchen. It sounds like they need people bad in the kitchen and I am like fuck. It's funny because the restaurant portion is actually one of the best restaurants in the city. If I was looking to be a chef this would be a dream but I am not looking to be a chef and I am not sure I can stomach being in a kitchen again. Fuck. So, now I am interviewing with the Sous Chef and he is a cool guy. Oh, also I told them that I only want to work 30 hours a week and they are kind of scratching their heads. That is the minimum hours for benefits and he kind of gives me this speech that they are looking for serious people that take this seriously for 40-50 hours a week and I was like I don't know what to tell you I'd like to see what it's like first and ideally be cross trained on different things. There was a lot we talked about. Then we talked about our love of coastal Maine and then we said our goodbyes and I was free to walk to my car and get the hell out of there.
I was amped. Really amped. Fuck. I don't know what to do. I talked to my parents. They both think I should take whatever job they offer me and maneuver to other jobs once I'm in. That seems reasonable. Fuck. I don't know what to do. Let's get some fresh air and go to the beach and give the dog a walk. I was like totally in myself. Contemplating everything. Fuck. I don't know what to do. So, here I am now writing and I am feeling better. I still don't really know what to do. "But, you just wanted to chill out and help run a small sweet shop." "You're a misfit. Misfits are made for the kitchen. It's more money. The Sous Chef was cool. Think of what it would be like working under those chefs at one of the best restaurants in the city." Fuck. I don't know what to do. He's going to call in a couple of days. What the hell do I say?
You know the one thing about today is I am pretty sure I was completely honest about what I felt at the time. So, really, I should feel pretty good.
Life was the fucking WORST sitting there driving into the shop late and then having to sit in there and wait for 30 min. Fucking agony. I think only people with anxiety know what I am talking about. I mean most people have anxiety but I am still sitting there wondering if the panic attack is going to go off. It's not like I ever known when. I mean I know the warning signs but it can hit me like a strike of lightning. I think it might be confined to AA which it still feels like my life is terrible and why do I have to go through this but I'll take today. I'll take it.
I think it was good that I was honest and held my ground on some points. I'm not putting up with manipulation. He basically said working part time is high school, childish shit and for teenagers. I would rather work 30 hours a week than 40 hours a week right now. The negotiations were a little weird to be honest. Actually, a lot of the interview was a little weird to be honest. I am a bit of an oddball. He's trying to fill a 40-50 hour/wk prep cook job and I am being difficult. It's mostly because I don't know what I want to do. I think I have some leverage because I'm willing to walk if I don't get what I want. The problem is I don't know what I want. They have leverage because I don't have any other offers on the table at the moment which they know because I told them the truth and they are one of the best restaurants in the city BUT they may have an inkling that I'm a crazy fuck and will throw it all away and I don't actually care that they are one of the best restaurants in the city because I don't have any aspirations of becoming a chef. That's not entirely true. I've never been a line cook or a junior Sous Chef. That kind of gets me interested at this calibre restaurant. We are back at this. It would be amazing for my resume if I wanted to be a chef but I don't want to be a chef but culinary arts is kind of interesting but being a prep cook sucks so what do I fucking do?
All this ruminating and they might like someone more than me. But, he did say he would call in a couple of days so I hope some sort of strategy develops and that I can make the right wager. Which will probably just be me being honest about how I feel at the time. I don't know any other way to live.
We do what we do, not realizing our suffering. I tell you. It is that which turns and keeps all doing what we do. It hides, it binds. It is not for our good.
And so, why is it that we keep moving towards this direction. It is clear, this is not the path. For it is among the very failures that we have felt that have told us of our own shortcomings. It is futile, it is pointless.
And i wake up today, striving yet again. The same defeat i have once faced, is yet again, that of the past. I continue onwards on my journey, seeing the suffering, enduring the suffering.
Because i do not know or see past it all. That feeling of calm, of bliss. That was only temporary. It is not enough.
It's here again. I N S O M N I A . My old friend. I remember back when I was alcoholic I'd drink a shit ton to pass out but then I would inevitably be up again and drinking again. Fill a tumbler full of red win and drink and write until I felt like passing out again. Well, here I am again. I MUST write. It saves me.
I had been wanting to write on bourgeois for a while. I got a mind full of Marx and a heart full of the C.N.T. and F.A.I. Proletariat 'til I die! But, then I got invited out to play golf by a multi-millionaire friend. I was raised at the country club. I like the guy so I did not want to refuse. It was a nice country club. I'm glad he paid. I am too poor to be playing golf really and I think he knows this. It would have been a big expense for me and it's a drop in the bucket for him. That doesn't mean I feel entitled to it but I think socially in that situation if a multi-millionaire invites a broke guy out to play golf he's got the bill? So, my friend was not the wage slave he was the OWNER of a business for 30 years until he got tired of California sold his share of the company and moved here. Then some Army corporate sales guy joins up with us. You don't find too many non-conservatives on a nice country club. Can I really blame them though? I was thinking in their shoes I might be a conservative too. After a few beers after the round the sales guy was opening up about how he didn't like his job and felt trapped. He called it golden hand cuffs. He's got shares in the company and compensation and he hates the traveling and he's got his family. He was 44. It was kind of interesting to see. It's something that I kind of learned at 30 and am continuing to learn. This guy is not really trapped by "golden handcuffs." He's trapped by property. He's got the 2 kids, he wants the certain house, he wants to play golf at country clubs. Which by the way there is no fucking sport more bourgeois than golf? Fucking manicured landscaping, all of it to get a little ball in a little hole. There's the immaculate club house and all the wage slaves and all of the tipping. I had a blast though. I can't lie. Out on this immaculate piece of land smoking a fine cigar among fellows.
I am like pseudo-fake proletariat. I grew up privileged. I was technically below the poverty line last year but not really. I live with my parents in a 3 bedroom townhouse in a neighborhood full of rich retirees and rich professionals. I don't pay rent. My parents probably covered about $1,000 worth of food last year. But, I can see the bourgeois for what it is. The vulgarianism the phillistinism. I wonder if people on LP have this dream of the house, the 2.5 kids and the white picket fence? I never did but I've probably said it a few times I had the dream of being the business unit president and living in a penthouse in Lincoln Park, Chicago. I really felt for that salesman we golfed with. He was talking about having a meltdown with the marketing department. People get accustomed to a certain way of living and they can barely keep up and anything outside of "growth and development" is unacceptable. We all except growth and development just like the corporations. If everyone grows and develops the corporation will grow and develop and the owners will pile up capital. Human development has nothing to do with money or how much stuff one can acquire.
Being out golfing though made me kind of cynical. It's such a different world out there on the country club. I knew this as a kid but I didn't really know. I had never struggled. I had never truly struggled. I reject the bourgeois. I can understand the bourgeois but I reject it. The scammed class but the proletariat is the scammed class too. My friend is not really scammed. He owned his company got out and now lives comfortably in a multi-million dollar house overlooking the water. He's got capital to spare. He doesn't really spare it. That's party why he moved to Charleston. The policy for retirees is some of the best in the country. See rich people know stuff like that.
I can dream of a classless society but I still think we are pretty far away. It will help when all the baby boomers die. Even the lefty ones... See, that is one of the reasons I can get by in political discussion because I dislike most politicians so if anyone says anyone I probably dislike them. I think the only one I like is Bernie Sanders and maybe Elizabeth Warren. But, like lefty baby boomer love Bill Clinton and Hillary Clinton. Actually, I started talking shit about Bill Clinton today and even my conservative friend's face kind of winced. Bill Clinton was just a neoliberal economics BITCH just like every other fucker in office for the past 30 years?
The air conditioning just kicked in. It feels good. I have air conditioning. How much of the world doesn't?
Black swallowtail and magenta flowers,
My bipolar gives me superpowers,
Manic like the sun,
Makes life more fun,
The sleep disturbances could be a sign of manic but I am tired and not energized. That cigar made me high today. I should probably avoid that poison. I was already thinking about smoking outside of the AA meeting. Coffee, God, and cigarettes it's all that I need.
There is a Gil Scot-Heron and Jamie xx song playing it always reminds me of the bars in Northwest Indiana. When I was new there I would just get drunk at home and then go out bar hopping IN A CAR, BY MYSELF because I was a crazy asshole. There was this one particular bar who had a bartender that was more attractive than Scarlett Johansson. Maybe not Kate Upton but you are really starting to be petty at this point. She was smoking. Classic blonde beauty with big tits who also had a cool style and most of all was cool AF. I remember I was doing everything in my power to make her laugh and impress her with out being that guy ya know? I was actually making her laugh. Of course she is serving me as a wage slave but I remember on like 3, 4, 5, 6, etc. drinks I could be rather charming. I was lifting weights and doing construction work in the mills I was a physical specimen. I had my designer clothes. I remember there was a group of people having a birthday party and I bought shots for the entire party but told them to leave me anonymous. I was just fucking around having a good time. The bartenders starting giving me free shots. I had a rule that I would only have 3 drinks at a place before moving to the next place because then they wouldn't think I was drinking too much. Plus, I wanted to end on a good note. It would have been easier in Chicago with public transit. The birthday party group could have been potential friends but I was fixated on I think her name is Stephanie or we'll just call her Stephanie. I still remember that low cut blue dress she was wearing. I remember in that same night actually I went to the next bar and won trivia playing by myself like 10 drinks in. Then I drove to the bar closer to my place for a few drinks trawling for pussy. Then I drove home and really started drinking.
I never asked Stephanie out. I only went to that bar one other time. They all remembered me and gave me a free shot of tequila. Around this same time I started dating a baaad black girl who was a doctor. She was kind of weird in a good way. That gave me a lot of confidence. I was getting "netflix and chill?" texts from randos I had spent a night with in a bar or a club. Life was good. My drinking problem just didn't seem like a problem at that point. I thought the problem was I wasn't living in Chicago (which it was). Stephanie, coincidentally, is the name of my sister's best friend that I have had a crush on since high school. The way we flirt and the way we hug leads me to believe something more could be there but that is also just her personality to be a bit of a flirt and a tease. God, that backless red dress she wore to my sister's wedding was RIDICULOUS. But, alas, the woman for me was M. Anarchist, atheist, anti-natalist, alcoholic, cool AF. I messed that up on multiple occasions. I mean really made a shit show of it. Who knows who the woman is for me?
I was going to write more and maybe I will at some point. Well, I will for sure at some point. I don't even really know why I post this stuff sometimes. Probably, for discourse and attention honestly but it actually shouldn't be reduced to just that.
I can't figure out what the deal is with the Peace Corps. Why is there so much marketing on the website? Why do they have recruiters? Is it basically a public relations gig for the USA? I did a lot of research today but not enough. Do these places really need the services offered? I don't know. I think I would prefer a 6 month tour of duty rather than a 2 yr tour of duty.
Then I am looking up non-profits. It's all fundraising, manipulating the media and lobbying policymakers. Greenpeace seems pretty solid but there weren't any openings that made sense for me.
Then I am thinking why don't I use my skills in history and the humanities to teach these kids how to write, how to seek the truth, and wake them up a bit.
I do really wish there was a computer that decided what jobs I should do for me. I am just applying to coffee shops and cafes. I think I might be dead in the water anyway since I can't start until June 25. I just get a feeling doing this mundane work for the masters to make capital is a backup for something more. I am picking coffee shops mostly because my sister and brother in law and I want to start a coffee shop some day and make it a collective. Plus I think it would be a relatively chill job to do for say 24-32 hours a week while I can continue to figure this stuff out.
It's been a long 14 hours, maybe even 16. I don't know, i can't really count right now. My wrist is numb, my back aches, and my fingers are sore. Hell, i don't even know what day of the week it is.
All i know is, i'm tired, and i want to go to bed.
That's what happens when you run these tireless, automatic programs in your mind for the entire day. It's all just non-stop clicking, and once you get it, you kind of get it. It's not high school physics, it's not university math, and it sure as hell isn't computer fucking science.
But for a suffering, ADD-ridden, post-college graduate, who barely made his way out of university due to his excessive habits of weed smoking, having to pay attention to exactly what your opponent is trying to do, and to try and counter his strategy as quickly as possible, is no easy task. It requires constant awareness and reassessment, and i now realized that it took about a full TWO HOURS after my session, to really calm down and go back to baseline.
So if i have to talk more about this game... this game of pennies and nickels... i'm going to go jump off a goddamned cliff.
I think it's time to take a breather. It's not all about making it to the top. We love what we do, we enjoy our freedom, and we channel our instincts. But at the end of the day, it's time to reconnect with our selves, the you that is you, and let it all go. And not try and rip each other's throats out on the other ends of the screen.
a person's sense of self-esteem or self-importance.
self-esteem
confidence in one's own worth or abilities; self-respect.
self-image
the idea one has of one's abilities, appearance, and personality.
I believe everything was cool as a kid. I played on the traveling soccer A-team, had plenty of friends, did well in school, had loving parents. I think things got a bit tricky in high school. I remember taking some vicodins, drinking a whole bottle of Kahlua, and watching pro wrestling tapes on this crummy little tv until I passed out. There was transcendence in watching Mitsuharu Misawa vs. Toshiaki Kawada art. I wasn't really a prep, I wasn't really a jock, I wasn't really a nerd, I wasn't really a skater, I wasn't really a punk, I wasn't really a goth but I got along with all these people. I loved drinking. I loved marijuana. This is starting to sound like my AA lead. I loved Diablo II, I loved warcraft 3. I remember Warcraft 3 hit the summer after my senior year and I was immersed in it. I mostly missed out on BroodWar. My brother played it heavily and I was too into sports at the time. But, Warcraft 3 got me. I was in it. That's all I did. My roommates in college called it Warcrack. I would have attractive women tell me I should come out with them and I was too focused on Warcraft 3. I got into the TFT beta. I started taking the game even more seriously. I wanted to go pro but I wasn't even that good. I remember one summer they had online qualifications for WCG. I was practicing a lot that summer and was pretty dialed in. I got pretty close but no cigar. One of my clanmates got a contract. I remember that's maybe when I improved the most when we were doing interclan obs games just over and over and over. Mixing with other good clans. You take a game off of someone really good or at least stay competitive it's like the micro wars are zoned in. It's action the whole game. But, most people on this site probably don't care about War 3 either. So...
Poker. Or, maybe I should talk about finally having a handful of great friends in my suitemates at university. Oh man, that was good times. They even put up with me playing Warcraft 3 all the time. But, let's talk about self-image. Four of the guys were black and they were the coolest of the bunch. So, I naturally drifted towards them. We would go shopping for "black people" clothes. From my appearance I was a wigger. Business school wasn't an education it was an indoctrination. Fucking horrible classes and teachers. I had this one professor lecturing on history in a way I never had run into before. It was exciting. That's what I was going to do. I remember watching Phil Ivey and Chip Reese on the tv and I was mesmerized. A group of guys played a home game in the apartment complex. You could tell certain guys were "good" and certain guys were dead money. One of the guys was playing 400 NL online. I figured if he could do that I could do that. I remembered Tillerman saying he was playing poker. I did some research online and found out about Rek and Elky and everyone. I put $150 online. I think I was playing NL 5 or NL 10 because I remember thinking at the time how big NL 25 felt. Oh, I remember sometimes my computer was breaking down and I would be furious that I couldn't play. I was always fucking around with like omaha 8 or better, 7 card stud, limit holdem. Yeah, I actually started with limit holdem. I had hand charts and figured out pot odds but I didn't really go anywhere until I focused solely on NLHE. Once I made that decision to stop fucking around and own NLHE I was up to NL 200 in no time. Straate and me we flew up the ranks. We used to fucking battle man. Always trying to be the table captain. Then he asked me if I wanted to share an apartment with him and some people in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Actually that was a bit later. The summer after college I went to my first WSOP and hung out with Tom, Ket, and Rainkhan. THESE WERE MY PEOPLE! I loved it out there in Vegas. We were so Vegas green it's not even funny. Man, now I am remembering even before that talking to like Arya and Tien about hands and about life for hours on messenger or whatever the fuck we were using then. These were my people. Then I go down to Argentina and I'm surrounded by my people.
I could talk more about ego, self-esteem, and self-image at some of these differing times. I won't go into the steel industry stuff either but with me a theme is that when things are gong well these things get elevated. Sometimes to grandiose levels. Especially when I'm manic. These things tend to hit the bottom when things aren't going as well or when I am depressed.
Another thing too. If I'm unemployed and not really doing much besides reading that's going to have an effect on my self-esteem. Same with ego and self image. Even if what I'm reading is great. Of course, there is more that I want out of life.
I just talked about my career in the steel industry but I will say when I had the most profitable account in NAFTA my ego, and my self-esteem, and my self-image rose to unhealthy and grandiose levels. I thought about stabbing my company in the back for a 6 figure contract (or commission). I thought about becoming the President of the business unit. I thought about moving to a penthouse in Lincoln Park, Chicago. But, keep in mind this distorted reality was full of chinks of insecurity that my dad had a hand in all of it. I mean he did in a way. I wouldn't be here or there if it wasn't for him. Another thing too is I am more of an introvert. I actually really do enjoy talking to people from different walks of life but I fucking LOVED to get home fill up a glass, take a shower, and spend some time by myself. Now, I couldn't bear myself so I needed at least a bottle of wine before I could relax and another bottle before I could really get into the zone. I didn't know these things at the time.
So, I want to address the idea that my will and ego was broken after these experiences because I believe it is an interesting insight.
After poker, yes, very much so. My ego went to thinking that it was going to make $2million/yr at 25/50 to being broke and busted and useless. I was so resentful that I wanted to murder people. I couldn't own up to the facts so I lied to everyone. But, I think I built it back. I started training and flushing the resentments away. I remember reading "Crime and Punishment" and it had a profound impact on me. I remember reading "Nausea" by Jean Paul Sartre and finally there was someone who understood. I read "Being and Nothingness" and it became my bible. I read Nietzsche. I read "Notes from the Underground" and "The Idiot." I was piecing myself back together. My ego could have been the healthiest when I was just that sales laborer learning and drinking socially. There's something about learning and not abusing alcohol/drugs and not being mentally ill that is good for the ego. Also, keep in mind I was drinking socially at that time. That's a rare thing for me.
Let's fast forward to rehab and the psych ward. Ego is at ZERO. I can't even function without boatloads of psych meds. Then I go on vacation for six months. I can't even begin to explain how beautiful a city Paris is but imagine that coming out of severe suicidal ideations and being so psychotic I literally thought I had travelled through all the depths of hell and back. Like, that's actually what happened. That was my reality. I travelled through far away galaxies and then thought I was stuck out there until I died but then I miraculously made my way back in a sort of Gravity 2.0 experience. I actually had thought this stuff had happened to me. It feels like it did happen to me. So, I am reading Nabokov and I am traveling around encountering vast beauty everywhere I go. I am reading Tolstoy, I am reading Joyce. It feels like a second psychic change. My ego is probably exactly where it needs to be at this point.
But, then I go back to work. I have no idea how to live life sober. FUCK! I need those God people don't I? I jump in that lifeboat. I have been in AA for a while and I don't think people really care about AA so I don't want to go too much into it. I will say this. In AA, God is everything and you are nothing. That's what humility means to them. We alcoholics have problems with our egos so we need God to help. But, I don't believe in God so that basically leaves me with ZERO ego and ZERO self-esteem. Developing a non-God ego or self-esteem is looked down about. It's looked at as selfish, self-centered, self-willing. I haven't worked a stimulating job in 5 years. A job I actually feel pretty good about. Oh also, I am not supposed to have a will. AA calls that self-will. It's what got me into all my problems. I should live in "God's will." They force fed me this shit for 2 years. Now, I just go for the solidarity and the fellowship and to meet with friends. It's really not ideal. I still have a sponsor. He is always telling me to go to more meetings. I can't really help many people since I am an atheist that doesn't believe in most of this crap but it was indoctrinated into me when I was desperate and it still sometimes feels that my brain is working it's way through it. But, I realize this stuff today.
To be honest, I believe that my ego, self-esteem, and self-image are in a pretty good place today. Now, would it be better if I had a job I liked, I saw my friends more, better friends, didn't live with my parents, and had a girlfriend? Well, who really fucking knows but I would wager that yes it would have a positive effect on my ego. And, I realize it all kind of starts with the occupation. And, that depresses me because I have been going through occupations my whole life and nothing seems to be quite right. It's why I think I should try out the non-profit sector or the public sector.
So, I have been doing a bit more earnest job seeking as of late and this shit is fucking hard. Especially with a mind full of anarcho-syndicalism, Catalonia, Chomsky, et al. It makes me want to not do it so I went to one of my favorite outlets LP. It just all looks unpleasant. It's just a sea of these corporations and it is like no I don't want to sell Nike shoes to people, no, unfortunately I am not an engineer, no, I don't want to be a cashier for your bourgeois organization. I don't want to complain about that anymore. So, I watched a bunch of Noam Chomsky YouTube videos.
I think the best I can hope for these days is some form of end in itself with minimal authority. Somewhat agreeable scheduled shifts, not too much of an overbearing overseer although there are security cameras everywhere these days. I had a friend tell me, "It's work. That's why they call it fucking work." Can we do better than that? Meh, I don't want to obsess about this now. The reality is if I don't get work at some point I will starve so by renting MYSELF, MY LABOR out for wages this is wage slavery. Anytime I start talking about this people mostly get defensive. They hate me. They hate the fact that I am free even if it is just for 2-3 months. It was similar to when I was playing poker for a living. I had figured out a way to beat the system. I think the fact that there was no overseer, no schedules, something that I liked to do it may beat out the hollowness felt at times. I don't know though. Some of those depressions were the worst.
I think about being a history professor. But, I don't exactly like the specialization. I like bigger picture. Including philosophy, sociology, anthropology, economics, etc etc etc etc. I would rather go broad and complex than narrow and specialized. I don't want to study the significance of the red scarves in the battles of Catalonia I want to talk about what that revolution means for the future. I would like to actually delve into the 100 million number in relation to MARXISM and Leninism, Stalinism, and Maoism. It all gets lumped under communism and that isn't fair. Also, where does anti-communism come from exactly and are the criticisms fair?
But, here I go again "typing" and "talking" about what I am going to do instead of just doing it. Fuck it, hopefully my Kindle is done charging so I can continue reading "Homage to Catalonia" by Orwell. Pretty good stuff. I get educated on anarchy, communism, and annarchist communist revolutions. Pretty fucking cool.
So, I am going to deal with narcissistic self-repeating by powering through it with narcissistic self-repeating.
I'll start by talking about my physical appearance.........
I was in the gym to fend off depression..... and let's be honest sculpt my own masterpiece. My therapist was the one that suggested I start exercising. Anyways I just got in there and did a little ditty. Got after it on a couple of exercises chest and a couple on shoulders. I am really just looking for a bit of delineation in the chest which has a greater effect at lower body fat percentages. It's mostly about the shoulders and the arms (triceps)..... Ok, I can't really keep this going I'd rather talk about:
There is a young lady in the gym. Of course, there always is...... I don't want to talk about this either.
Here:
I do want to talk about this. I used to look down on people that wear Nike but who am I? I had 100% Bread and Boxers on and my barefoot shoes. Nike probably makes good shoes. I spent $100+ on my shoes. They spend $100+ on Nikes. Actually a Nike shirt is probably cheaper than the shirt I was wearing. Same with the shorts. Same with the underwear. My clothes have no branding.... That clearly doesn't make me or the clothes better. My beef with Nike is neoliberalism and exploiting foreign labor. I tried a lot of shirts until I found Bread and Boxer. The cheap price points fall apart and just don't drape the right way. Bread and Boxer the fabric is a bit nicer. They drape how I like. They have lasted for years. To be honest I don't know how they are made. They mentioned they are designed in Sweden which means they probably are not made there or else they would have mentioned it. You kind of have to be in the business of exploiting foreign labor to make it in that game. So, I'm hypocritical. It's part of why I love Patagonia. Their goal is to move as much as possible to fair trade. It's why I am paying attention to Kanye West. He has said he wants to make Yeezy a charity eventually. The cynical person can say it's marketing, etc. I'd say at least it's a start. I don't really know how the clothing industry would look in the future. We have all these great factories to make clothes. Why not organize and make the clothes for the people? We wouldn't have to use the best fabrics but I wouldn't want the worst either. Automate everything as fast as possible and get to a universal basic income.
Communes.
I virtually lived on a commune for a week in Buenos Aires. It was a hostel but all of my roommates were big time hippies. I remember the guy took 2 condoms out of my bag and left a beaded necklace in it's place. I was fucking pissed that he was looking through my stuff at the time. Looking back on it it's entertaining. The beaded necklace was pretty awesome actually. Definitely worth more than 2 condoms. Not for a guy about to get laid!!! I always ran into really interesting people at hostels. I kind of miss that.
Maybe I will try to not purchase another pair of clothing for the rest of my life. That would be difficult. Boxer briefs is one item I want new from Bread and Boxers.
One of my best friends from poker always had the vision of being a part of a commune. He is back playing poker unfortunately but it is funding quite a nice marijuana farm in Uruguay. The farm is an end in itself and I hope to visit one day. Hemp has so many uses. Cannabinoids have so much potential.
I can't really tell you how I "made it" in the material world. I thought I had on multiple occasions but I was so so wrong.
My mental breakdowns were breakthroughs. Capitalism and corporations sent me through the levels of hell. I was talking to a friend last night who has the same bipolar as me and is also alcoholic. He talked about the lightest light is next to the darkest dark and vice versa. My friend is a painter. He got that idea from Caravaggio:
You can see the use of the darkness and light. But, I guess talking about bipolar isn't relevant to most but I think that quote still stands true. The lightest light is next to the darkest dark. The darkest dark is next to the lightest light.
I am a curator of art! It brought me transcendence. Hopefully, it brings some transcendence for ya'll.
I am going to talk about bivalves and beans again. Imagine a world where bivalves and beans are subsidized instead of torturing and murdering a countless number of cows, chickens, and pigs? (56 billion/yr)
I am talking about the future. I am concerned about the future. I am in the NOW.
I'll take you guys on a modified trip to L'Orangerie in Paris.
I have a Monet, Basquiat, and Renoir hanging in my room (not originals obv) I also have an uncut deck of cards hanging up. Now, it feels like I am just practicing mindfulness looking around my room and identifying what is hanging up.
Maybe only people with hyper open-mindedness like me will appreciate the artwork. I could be happy for days and days reading and discussing philosophy and art. Chomsky bores me sometimes but "Profit over People" is a great little book. I get real fired up when he starts talking about what happened in all those Latin American countries, including Mexico. It is pretty clear that the system is set up to benefit the rich elite. To allow the rich elite to acquire more profit and power. To fool the middle class. To take advantage of their selfish desires. Utility wise there is not that much difference for the individual between $63,000 and $70,000, $90,000 and $100,000, $450,000 and $500,000, $9 billion and $10 billion but collectively that money could make MASSIVE differences for the people suffering the most.
I would rather be at peace than happy. Happiness is a drug that I always want more of. When I am truly at peace I don't have any wants or desires.
Happiness will always fade. It feels great when the candle is burning brightly but it will inevitably fade into a flicker. Hopefully, that flicker coincides with sleep. It doesn't always. Living life when it seems like the light is out is most difficult. It may be a bit fun to sit in it and listen to those certain songs that bring a masochistic joy but when one is seriously considering ways to commit suicide help is needed. For most, life doesn't have to be so dark. Go to a butterfly park or an art museum or listen to some Daft Punk. Drink caffeine and go train. Read Edgar Morin. Read novels. I'm rambling.........................
I may never again reach that high of coming home from the clubs in Buenos Aires blackout drunk, smoking a bunch of basically bad weed but if you smoked enough of it you'd get super high and then just lying on the couch listening to Daft Punk. It was like I was elevated to a 4th dimension. Borracio, verde y Daft Punk. Por supuesto. En serio, bro.
I was going to share what I thought about poker these days. Or, suggestions to the new players. ...
I will say this. I am extremely selfish and self-centered and back when I was playing I was hyper-selfish and self-centered. There is a factor of the game that is incredibly stimulating. Sometimes that goes away. Sometimes that comes back. I mean poker is one of the most fascinating strategy games that exists on this earth. I have toyed around with just playing again so I can play around with a solver. Here is the catch though. Even though I was a hyper-selfish and self-centered person there was always a time where the truth emerged and a hollowness set in. I was exploiting and manipulating people to making a living. Many times it is not even this stimulating battle between worthwhile adversaries but rather just getting the jesus seat on some guy that doesn't know how to play. I guess it is always a bit of both for most. Some like isildur1 seem to go the route of stimulating battle 100% of the time and there were handfuls of guys that excelled at bumhunting. "Bumhunting." I believe that many of these guys have serious gambling problems (the bums not the nits). "But, if their dope man stops selling dope they'll just get it from the next guy." That's true. I am trying to think of what is analogous to giving out clean needles. At least the top dogs in the group will never kill a fish. Not out of any sort of compassion but if the fish dies the good games die.
I don't know. That may be all I have to write. I will just say it is hard to be a top dog for any amount of time. It doesn't even really happen over 5 year spans. 10 years later I don't recognize 1 person in the Stars 200/400 NL and it's hard to be a grinder. It's smart to be a guy like Gogol's Nose. Make $500k and then put it into land out in Montana. I wonder what he is doing now? That is a guy I definitely had those stimulating battles with. The guys that started holding money in Bitcoin.
But, it's not all about the material and consuming. The main guy over at currentaffairs.org took $34,000 for his salary. That is enough to live comfortably and he gets to write articles all day exposing the truth regarding the world we live in. I made $10k last year but I'm doing alright. I think most people would fear living as simply as I do. 2013 me would be repulsed. It's really not all that bad. I have a clear conscious and serene soul.
I guess that is what I would say. I believe that one of the secrets of life is helping people and not getting caught. Not looking for validation. Not looking for validation in the form of money, adulation, whatever. Finding the joy and beauty in life. When I see a black swallow tail butterfly fluttering about I become excited. The world seems magical to me. I only really get that feeling when I am in nature.
Now, I am hungry. One desire I must fulfill. Although, in reality I could go about a month with out eating. I am sculpting to the aesthetics of the Greeks, Michelangelo and Rodin though. Chick pea curry again! I will take that over chicken, rice, and steamed broccoli any day.
My brother and sister-in-law are happy and docile. They go to their high paying multinational corporate jobs, come home to their giant house to take care of their 2 year old and then watch tv until they go to sleep. I don't get it. I've always been a bit of a wild child. L'enfant sauvage but I am confused about the meaning of sauvage. Gojira's lead singer says it is more about being feral and untouched by civilization. I was very much civilized as a youth but I always remained very much wild. I have had streaks of docility usually with even stronger streaks of rebellion and disobedience. I had to really respect the person and/or really need help to reach any level of docile. Which caused problems in the corporate structure. I remember the NAFTA Sales Director urging us to "really grab your customers by the balls." To manipulate them in any way we could in order to get the purchase order. I didn't want to manipulate my customers or grab them by the balls. The most successful salesman in the area was a direct competitor. He was a former NFL linebacker. A professional in hurting his competitors by any means necessary. Most of my customers adored him as he was an All-American for Notre Dame University which was just a short trip up the road. I took it as a challenge. I was up every day at 4:45am to lace up the bootstraps and get to work. Why? I don't know. I wanted to be President of the company. I wanted a penthouse in Lincoln Park, Chicago, and in some ways it was just for the spirit of it all. I fucking loved watching those hot slabs of steel roll out of the mill.
Every day was gameday. Everyday was like marching into battle. I was connecting with people, I was really helping out the mill, I was helping my friends get promotions. I was getting promotions. I loved to drink. I drank too much. That was my anesthesia. I suppose for a stretch there I was happy but I was not docile. I was still very much a wild child. I remember there was a part of the mill that was super muddy from all the rain. I started speeding around doing fish tails. No one fucking cared. They thought it was funny. That's because most people in the steel industry are wild childs. Are a bit nuts. I loved that. You have to be a bit nuts to be cooped up in a steel mill dealing with 3,000 F steel all day. In fact in one of the mills they all laughed and joked about it being a mental institution. The biggest reason that the union typically gets what it wants is that it would be disaster to let all these union guys out into civilization.
I was constantly butting heads with my manager. He was always making metaphors that I was a stallion that he was going to break. I would make metaphors that he was never going to fucking break me. We were getting business though. Not really getting paid in accordance to that business but we were both getting business and getting paid. I had the most profitable account per capita in NAFTA so could swing my dick around a little bit but I did understand that a lot of that was with help from my manager. I was good at getting people fired up about stuff but I am not a ruthless businessman or a psychopath. My manager was. So, we basically had an agreement where I would do my thing and then call him up when the deal needed to get closed. It was a good agreement. Him and his boss basically told me to manage my business. I never even received one phone call from my boss's boss.
Anyways.... I am kind of going off on a tangent here of memories. The All-American from Notre Dame eventually woke up, bought out some of our key guys, and started bribing all the right people. We ended up losing the largest business contract. A lot of people at that point liked me a lot so were throwing me bones with out much work needed from me. I had enough business to cruise. I knew this. My boss knew I knew this. I used the extra time to drink. I became more than just a heavy drinker. The workaholic aspect just turned into straight alcoholic.
I guess part of that story is that the patriarchy ganged up on me. I was certainly not very happy during my negotiations for a salary position. It was 5 rich, white guys and the corporate contract lawyers vs. me. I wouldn't say they broke me they just sort of fleeced and exploited me. You know, there is no real way in which someone lower on the totem pole can exploit a corporation. At least in my position. What could I do? I could cheat on my expense account. Maybe get an extra $50 out of it a week. So, maybe $3,000 over the course of a year? That's nothing compared to how a corporation can exploit its workers. It goes further than just dollar amounts. My mental health was ruined. The whole culture broke me but only for so long. Just because I take lithium and abilify doesn't mean I can't wile out. I am still not easily controlled. If anything I am more woke than ever. That doesn't help me pay my bills.
The people in power don't want to give it up and as long as most of the population is "happy" and docile nothing will change.
My aunt is high up in Siemans corporation. Her plan when she retires is to buy another house (they already have 2) and interior decorate it. *Click click click* Agonizing for months over which couch best expresses her true self. I am pretty sure she takes boatloads of anxiety pills and/or vino every day and night just to get through existence. I made $10k last year and am sitting in an Ikea computer chair with a broken arm and am pretty content with my position. It doesn't actually suck to be unemployed if you have stuff to do. What sucks is the looming fear that yeah eventually I will have to make money again.
Man, so, people always ask me "Well, what do you REALLY want to do?" or "What did you want to do when you were younger?" My answers are actor, musician, soccer player, artist, architect. There are reasons for those not panning out and none of those are something I could just sort of pick up again and make a living at today. Maybe a better question is "What is good for you?" We can maybe start working with that. A lot of people hear that I have a degree in history and suggest that I become a history teacher. I never really wanted to do that. I don't want to be confined by a high school curriculum. Well, what about a history professor? I don't know if I like the specialization. Never have. So, where does that leave me?
$12/hr at Whole Foods, going to AA meetings I don't like, and posting blogs on LP. YIPEEEE!!!!
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