This is a long shot, but I'd like to ask the LP community if they're interested in a mental-coaching app for poker. Filling out the survey below will help my team on what audiences to target and which areas to prioritize such as concentration, consistency, and ability to not tilt:
I recently joined a team that consists of 2 PhD Sport Psychologists that regularly work with pro athletes, and are being approached by major esports teams. We're definitely going to target esports and sports, but we're also thinking of other niche areas that require a certain mindset to excel, and we think poker is one of them. During my time as a "pro poker player" the mental hurdles were half the battle. Knowing when to take a break, being honest with yourself to find leaks, and preparing mentally for a big tournaments were some things that I think affected my overall EV, and didn't do so well in those areas. But since I am no longer a full-time poker player, my opinions are somewhat invalidated, so I'd love to see the responses from the LP community.
Lastly, if you are interested in such an app, what stakes and how frequently do you play? This info will help us understand what kind of volume a poker player goes through as a pro or amateur.
Not that anyone realized I was gone. I just want to write out some experiences.
So, I recently found out that my health insurance doesn't cover any of my "Behavioral Health" costs at my current hospital. But, my PCP is still covered under their "Medical Care." So, the woman basically said "Your doctors will not agree with our agreement so fuck them (and fuck you)." Now, I either have to pay an exorbitant amount of money for the care I am currently receiving or switch to some LLC Pysch + Therapy combo. It's not all on the health insurance though. I re-examined the bills I was getting and they were horseshit. Double billing me. One of the charges was $440 for 1 hour but they billed me 1 hour of psychotherapy at $180 and 1 hour of psychiatry at $260. The doctor verified my meds and then we had a therapy session. It's all bullshit. Now, I have to get things straightened out with the doctors and the billing and I have to get things straightened out with my employer and their health insurance and I am going to have to make some wagers. I guess all parties have to negotiate or someone is going to get taken advantage of. It just feels like the person getting taken advantage of is me. In situations like this I want to strike out against everyone. I want to quit my Doctors, I want to quit my job, I want to quit capitalistic society. That is looking pretty bleak. Capitalism is the root cause of all my problems. I have been reading the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu. I wish to discuss it further which means I don't have the Tao. I don't understand how I can be content with my lot in life. It's like capitalism causes sickness. Capitalism takes advantage of sickness. It's an absolute monster.
I have heard people feel patriotic when doing taxes. Fuck that! Mine aren't all that difficult except for TurboTax's shitty health insurance software. I had to re-do that 3 times. Fuck Countries! Fuck Parties! ni aux patries ni aux parties. It's all coercion. The shit system that we are supporting is depressing. Will nothing happen due to our depressed resignation???
That might be one of the most important questions to ask.
I made more than I made last year but my medical bills mixed with my increased cost of medical insurance I may or may not be doing better. I may be better off getting a job that doesn't offer insurance so I can get back on Obamacare. One rule about Obamacare is that if your employer offers insurance you HAVE to take it. Meaning I went from good Obamacare insurance to really shitty Mr. Jeff Bezos insurance. "Behavioral Health." Get the fuck out of here. Capitalism caused my bipolar and my alcoholism and still does. It's a miracle I don't still drink or do drugs. Donald Trump is anti-Tao. I don't really want to go after anybody I just want to go after something... Capitalism. I'm in the jungles right now. I'm still learning. I always seem to be still learning.
Ugh, too much to talk about.
I will go read "Capitalist Realism" by Mark Fisher and then take a walk in Nature.
Everyone is asking me, "Do you feel better?" .................................................
Of course I don't feel better. I hate being Bi-polar, it's awesome!
I had less than 3 hours of sleep for 6 days and I had never felt better. There is a nagging tiredness or a nagging restlessness that can emerge but then I have just learned to escalate the stimulation and see where that goes. There were 2 hour car karaoke sessions. I lost my voice. A 2 hour interpretive dance session that was like the most fun I've had since drinking 4 Red Bull + Vodka and popping molly at a killer rave. I started creating art again. I love that zone. I cleaned my golf clubs. I fixed my lacrosse stick. I put on the greatest display of pizza prowess in my life on the busiest day of the week. On every pizza I attempted to throw it as close to the ceiling as I could with out touching it. My mom said that was stupid. (She was giving me a ride home because I was in no shape to drive unless it was in a rally race for my life). I told her I am practicing to THROW THE PIZZA THROUGH THE CEILING!!!
This was motivation:
This was me. I identified with this. Except I was performing my forms of art and they were mostly ephemeral. I remember getting an omelette and french fries at a really nice French restaurant downtown. I sketched a bunch of pro-Gilet jaunes art on the table cloth with the french fry as the stylus and the ketchup as the paint. The table cloth was disposable paper. I am not that much of an asshole.
Then there is the comedown. Like "NOOOOOOOOO, This can't be happening!!! I don't wanna leave yet!!!" Like when I was a kid playing with the train station at the library. You know what my mom bribed me with? McDonald's Cheeseburger Happy Meal. That's fucked up. And, people are asking me if I feel better. "Relative to what?" "No, being manic is awesome"
The thing is this manic episode was pretty awesome overall. I didn't go down to the 7th level of Hell. I didn't experience infinite. I wasn't casted out to some other multiverse alone in a space shuttle with no way of getting back to Earth or at least somewhere inhabitable with something at least somewhat humanoid. There have been racing thoughts coming in so fast that the only way to deal with that was hellish primal screaming. Then they would hit me with a bunch of shots and drugs. Who knows how much time had past. I was carrying a virus that would end humanity. U.S.A. and Chinese hackers were in a constant battle in my brain. I thought the showers were gas chambers. I thought the shampoo was poison. I had to solve the code or else the world would end. To my mind I was in a torture and death camp.
Contrast this to my last episode and maybe I am just feeling a little tired at times or a bit out of touch with reality. The thing about that is that if I just embrace the loss of reality everything will be ok. I've been through this before. I know Spotify is not really trying to communicate with me and if they are cool they just did anyway.
But, now I am back in the drudgery of life. Who the fuck wouldn't want to be euphoric for a week or two? The hangover was not nearly as bad as some of my drug hangovers in the past. When I am manic I am a guy that creates concerts in the forests of Vexin, FR and all the marketing/design/etc. and makes all the women smile and laugh (not all... there are certainly some missteps with being very honest and manic but in my mind they all smiled and laughed). Now, I'm just some schlub with a bit of a belly because I eat too much, living in my parents' spare room, typically, occasionally writing about politics on a dwindling poker website. Nice identity. It is like I enjoyed my recent episode so much I just strive to go back there. Fuck Rojava. Fuck Food Not Bombs. Fuck Local Farms. Bring me THE ENTERTAINMENT, THE SIMULATION, SASHA GREY VIRTUAL REALITY. Speaking on the ladder my sexual desire was fucking ridiculous but it didn't bring me suffering. I literally thought I was in love with Mexie which I am in love with Mexie but not romantically, yet. She was the muse of this most recent outburst of productivity but I don't really like the word productivity when detailing art, philosophy, history, geography, political science, psychology, sociology, anthropology, biology, complex sciences, ecology, et al.
It seems like in these manic episodes if I can grasp on to some form of Beauty it fuels my experience. I need it like those people in the Inception needed their items. In a past manic episode I thought I was in love with another women with her name starting with the letter M and the thing is I really was in love with her but I was in love with the idea of her. Another time it was Rihanna. Another time it was Kate Upton. Another time it was a woman let's call her K. She looked like a Queen from Africa. She was a Doctor. K was for Kharisma. Great smile, funny, smart. I used to call her Queen Bee. It's like as long as they are guiding me I am not going to lose my way. This could be a dangerous way of thinking and M even told me so when we were waiting in the Psych Ward waiting room. But, then the mania kind of takes over and I am in love with this women, and I am in love with this women and I am in love with this women just for having sexy, engaging eyes and a great smile.
So, I have sort of lost my way at this point. It feels like I had some breakthroughs over the last 2 weeks of mania or so but I really could have just been some crazed cat in some shiny ball chasing Odyssey.
What are YOUR favourite moments from the show?
1) Greenstein AA vs KK Farha hand
2) Those 2 big all-in pots with dwan vs greenstein
3) Seeing Galfond on there
4) Seeing Negreanu and Elezra on the show just add more oomph now that we see them in a different light
Booyakasha - used to express triumph, normally if trying to appear "gangsta" ...
So, I remember listening to a lot of Caribou's new album at the time and Little Dragon when I was placed in an office for rehab at the L.M.N.C. (Large Multi-National Corporation) that I sold my labor to in return for a (slave) wage. They gave me an absent corner office of one of the Top Dawgs that had cancer and was going to die. It was nice but I felt uncomfortable. My job was to audit every facet of the plant and write safety reports for 8 hours a day. I eventually let an IT guy use the office who resented me for being my father's son. I found an unused desk in a somewhat decrepit section of the cubicle area surrounded by cold concrete, a stack of forgotten chairs and a paper shredder that people would constantly use and interrupt me. I don't know which was worse. Eventually, after days and days and days of scraping the ice off of my car and going in to this dismal situation I realized this wasn't for me. None of it. Don't get me wrong, I continued to show up so they would continue to pay me my Long-Term Disability but I would vomit a little bit every time we received a new message from our handsome but decidedly undead C.E.O. The messages so obvious and banal to inspire us so he could make $20 million bonuses.
This is the part of the blog where I was going to brag about making prophetic predictions at a dinner with upper management that asked my opinions of the state of things out East at the time that would have saved the company $20+ million dollars (not necessarily expected value but how it actually turned out). Oh, I just did brag about making prophetic predictions at a dinner with upper management that asked my opinions of the state of things out East at the time that would have saved the company $20+ million dollars (not necessarily expected value but how it actually turned out).
It was on my mind because I suggested they stop selling product to a large integrated steel mill on the East coast of the U.S.A. that to this particular emotionally detached observer was doomed and forever doomed. They continued doing business with them until the mill shut down permanently and the L.M.N.C. I worked for ended up getting burned for $15 million in unpaid consignment. It was a terribly sad story. It bankrupted all the local businesses and a lot of people were out of work in an already depressed part of the country.
It comes to mind because that mill in East Coast, U.S.A. was 1 large blast furnace and 1 large caster. Techint in Venezuela was 6 casters which means it was likely 1 or 2 large blast furnaces and a handful of electric arc furnaces or 1 or 2 large electric arc furnaces. Chavez burned the L.M.N.C. I worked for for a likely $50+ million in unpaid consignment. That is just one company not to mention the effect it would have on local economy. In the world I live in if someone welches on bets to the wrong people they start sending large, trained men to start breaking fingers and escalate the violence as deemed necessary. Now, we can discuss whether that is right or wrong but the fact is that it is effective. Maybe it was my upbringing in poker and life that welching on bets is not acceptable. I think there was a crazy ambulance/ER bill when I was mentally ill that I never paid due to being broke and I told a predatory gym to get fucked. I think that is the grey area. What is predatory and what is not? Many people will look to exploit as much as they can get away with. Maybe every human being to an extent.
What is my point? I am not sure. I am just thinking. The U.S.A. and the wealthy elite are similar to bookies and gangsters who have access to large men well versed in violence. They also have access to clever demons well versed in "Public Relations" and Manufacturing Consent. So, if someone isn't behaving how they want them to behave they discreetly break some fingers and see what happens. It may turn into a meeting with a baseball bat. Eventually they drop the Atomic Bomb but not literally an Atomic Bomb because that is mutually assured destruction these days. They are much more devious.
I went to the Dentist yesterday. It always weirds me out because everyone in there is a tall, blonde, beautiful woman. I get along with the hygienist and she does a good job so I keep going but it's just weird. The Queen Bee Blondie Dentist comes in at the end and expects me to be more excited about my teeth being clean. She probably won a Miss America pageant at some point in her life and has a smile so perfect it is difficult to look at similarly to the sun. Her and her husband who is a Medical Doctor and her male clone came to the pizza shop once and were rather difficult and demanding. Then in the appointment she just wanted to talk about craft beer and her children and I was just like you got the wrong guy. As if I could just find some new, interesting craft beers and have a couple after work to relax and receive transcendental love from my angelic children and everything would be ok. The American Dream. I shouldn't judge though. I don't truly know her and it's not her fault.
So, where does this leave me? I was reflecting back on those days with the L.M.N.C. I am so happy to be out of that situation. But, I am still a wage slave chained to one of the richest and most powerful Masters on the Planet Earth. I still need to eat food, maintain my Automobile including consistently feeding it Petrol Gasoline, dole out money to various forms of insurance, and struggle to pay medical bills. There are so many social injustices across the world that it is hard to know where to even begin. I once spent much of a weekend with an AA Elder in the forests of Northern PA camping. He wasn't a caricature AA Elder in that he wasn't a "Big Book Thumper." He would host a weekly reading group of The Perennial Psychology of the Bhagavad Gita. Anyways, when we were saying our goodbyes he got really serious and intense for a moment and looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Rich, if i have one suggestion for you it is this: Shine a light on your corner before attempting to shine a light on the world." He was also a big proponent of not seeking the non-physical in the material world but rather chinking away the icy shell covering of our true "selves" through authenticity, honesty, genuineness and allowing self-esteem to blossom organically.
My therapist said I should in part take on the spirit of an unconditioned child. ¡¡¡L'esprit de l'enfant sauvage!!!
My dad says I should continue going to work and earning a paycheck.
A friend and I went to a massive festival in Argentina and saw LCD Soundsystem. We got so unbelievably high. He would always try and get me Blazard. Blazard is term I coined in college as a mix between blazed and the phenomena of Blazars in the universe (aren't I so clever). Anyways, he would always try and get me blazard and fuck with me. At the concert he started freaking out that the security guards saw us and were coming to get us. I was adamant that this was all bullshit and I am trying to enjoy the concert and we'll be ok. Then I notice that there were security guards looking directly at us and headed our way. My friend threw the lit joint as far as he could as discreetly as possible. They walked right by us examining us and then moved along. It added to the high. The concert was phenomenal.
In an attempt to get outside of my reclusiveness I went to a nice restaurant and an orchestral concert on Sunday. I ate a $17 pancake. I would have been happier just making blueberry pancakes at home by myself. I was wearing my favorite boots. They strike me aesthetically. They are pretty shit for walking around a city though. It is like wearing heeled casts. I pretty much only wear minimal running shoes or barefoot shoes and the contrast with the boots was uncomfortable. There is a book called "End of Illness" by David Agus that I read years ago that pretty much sums up the profound relationship between heeled footwear and inflammation. Being at that concert I was in a sea of brown leather shoes. I don't want any part in it. It was 99% white. The other 1% was filled in with Asians and Indians. There was a black guy that helped move the piano on stage. It was similar to a The Who concert I went to in Western, MA. The only black people at the concert were part of security. A lot of suits and collared shirts and ties and brown leather shoes. One thing I've realized is that I didn't have to go to this event. These events are not what I'm striving for. Why am I hung up on going to some cocktail lounge with some gorgeous woman covered in expensive makeup, a small designer cocktail dress, and stilletos? I think the answer is I am not really caught up on that anymore but I still get seduced by Kate Upton. But, just talking to co-workers especially ones who buy vegan slices of pizza they are so much more interesting than the woman in the Mercedes Benz commercial.
I didn't really feel like being in my last therapy session. I mostly just stared at the corner of the door expressionless until prompted to say something. She called me out on it. She also said I didn't have a sense of self and started going into Freud. I think she was relating it to the whole Buddhism thing and that I lost my identity or my ego was punctured or something like that but I don't really agree with that. I didn't really care to bring up Otto Rank or immortality projects at the time. We talked about my depression. She asked if I wanted meds. I said definitely not. I explained that I thought I was just situationally depressed. I am not happy with the state of things in the world. I don't remember how grandiosity was brought up but we talked about it for a while. I mentioned that I have streaks of grandiosity especially in mania. I told her the story about how I wanted to be a progamer and then became a poker player. She said that that isolated story wasn't an example of grandiosity. I told her that when I am manic I want to kill all the billionaires in the world and actually I think about that when I am not manic. Somewhere in this timeline she asks to see me every week. I say no. She asks if I actually planned it out and I say no, I never get further than the fact I don't have the training for something like that. It's not really the right way to go about things I don't think. Then I talked about activism and getting more educated and more involved. Then I started talking about capitalism and corporations and all of the movements I feel strongly about and structural determinism and class conflict and class struggle versus race struggle and I think I was probably talking for a long time. She asked me if I think I am smarter than most people? I said I don't know. She asked me if I think I know more than most people? I said in subjects that I've read a lot about, yes. Oh, I think she also wanted to see me more because I said I had thoughts that either this activism thing would be worthwhile or I'd probably just kill myself. Kind of seems like a lot of the makings of a suicide bomber. I'd rather be a part of a large movement affecting change than just dumbass me blowing up an Exxon building or whatever. I wouldn't even want to do that as it might kill a security guard or something. I don't actually want to murder anyone. We are all human beings with our own determinism. Rehabilitation is a complex subject.
I finally finished "Infinite Jest." I thought it would free up all this time to educate myself on other topics but I've mostly been living in r/infinitejest and re-reading it. I think on most days I'm pretty lonely and "Infinite Jest" soothes that loneliness. It just seems like I am drawn to it over these other options that I have.
I read a lot of disturbing and distressing stuff yesterday.
China's Selfie Obsession was probably in the lead until Loco posted about the French protests. Why in the fuck would someone shoot flash bangs and stun grenades at peoples' faces who are non-violent? I swear these guys have dreams of doing stuff like this and their adrenalin gets pumped up and they are enjoying it. I also noticed that after the first person fired a shot it was always accompanied by a handful more. What the fuck? Also, I think the French people are just more aware due to their history and culture.
Damn addicted to her streams, they are somehow very relaxing.
She has an acute tourettes, but has a great life philosophy, it's pretty inspirational actually.
And yes it is a disability but hilarious at the same time, she seems to be okay with people laughing at it
I just love to hear unique's people's stories and she's definitely one of them
She suggested we meet at a movie trivia event at a bar. I drove 45min to see her. A friend told me to back out and to re-schedule. He said it would be too difficult to not only entertain her, but to socialize and be 'on' for everyone else there as well. And my date texted me the morning before that she wants to go as friends first, then see how it goes. I sent her a cocky reply and chose to go anyways, because I need the practice.
I get there and she greets me with a big hug, so far it's already going better than my last date. We have a drink at the bar before registering for the movie trivia. The organizer paired us in a group with two others. The trivia was boring as hell, and I don't think I contributed one answer. I know movies, but not the kind of movies that they based the questions on. So her and I are chatting between the questions and she's very touchy, touching my arm and shoulder a lot when talking. But she's also doing it do the guy next to me when talking to him! Things weren't going good. The trivia was so boring and I couldn't make much a move.
When the trivia ended the organizer DJ'd music and there was a dimly lit dance floor with disco lights. Only then we realize that it's a singles event-- she and I had no idea until then. I decide I that I need to make a bold move quick or else it's GG NO RE like my last date (Lemon's and Drone's advice enter my mind). I ask her to dance. I never dance in public, only in my kitchen. She agrees, but also the other girl with us decides to tag along.
So I'm there on the dance floor with my date in my left hand, and this other girl in my right hand; dancing with two beautiful women to 80s music. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, but it seems all those years of practice of dancing the kitchen payed off! I only have 2 beers in me, but I'm letting loose, moving my legs and arms, swaying side to side and spinning these two women in my arms.
After a while the three of us walk back to the table area to meet up with our 4th group member (a nice guy who didn't want to dance). And everyone's lost as what to do next. I suggest we play pool, but all the tables are busy. I take lead and walk around at every pool table asking if anyone's on their last game, and end up finding a table for us. Wow. I don't know what got into me tonight, usually I'm quite passive, but tonight I'm Captain fucking Picard.
During our 2 v 2 game of pool my date ends up setting up the lone guy in our group with a nearby single girl. So now it's the three of us. My date asked the girl who was with us if there were any nearby men that she found attractive. She pointed to someone who ends up approaching her anyways. I whispered to the guy's friend that this girl was interested in his friend, which ensured another set up. My date and I look at each other with a grin on our faces. I call her cupid, and she makes a joke that these single events should be hiring us to set people up!
I pull her hand and walk her to the dance floor. The music is getting better and we're dancing our asses off for hours, and taking water breaks in between (she doesn't drink). We're dancing hand in hand, then I'm holding her hips. And I go for the kiss. She has the biggest smile on her face all throughout dancing with me. A kiss turns into making out. In an effort in continuing to be bold I whisper in her ear and suggest we go to her place. She tells me that she wants it to happen when I'm completely sober. I state that my ex never wanted to dance, and she whispers in my ear that "we can do all the things that my ex never wanted to do".
At this point my calves and back are aching and we're both sweaty. I walk her to the back of the bar. We finally have the chance to talk. Conversation about everything, childhood, work, stories etc. I learn that she lives a very cool and active life of playing sports, doing krav maga, skiing, traveling, talks at business events, does business coaching. She's a business coach and public speaker, a very successful one at that. Very impressive woman. She's significantly older than me, but gorgeous and has the body of a 20 year old, judging by the photos of her that she showed me on her phone. She talks to me about what she wants from a relationship and I do the same. I asked her if she wants friends with benefits, and she responded "I'm looking for friends with lots and lots of benefits, but also something that lasts and with exclusivity".
We walk out together and into her car. She drives me across the street to mine. We kiss and kiss some more and our hands wander. I suggested a nightcap at her place once again. She tells me she wants to, she really wants to, but that she wants to make sure this lasts and doesn't want to risk it ending at a one night stand. She tells me next time. She tells me that it was her best first date ever and that it was like a dream. We talked about the things we want to do next time, then parted ways.
I didn't get laid, but I had a ton of fun and will be seeing her again next weekend. It's morning and my calves and back are so sore from dancing. Best night for me in a long time and it's all because I decided to show up and asked her to dance.
I just watched that video and feel like it really sums up humanities current predicament, and the choice available to us moving forward. I really like the work that Sustainable Human does, their videos taught me a lot and helped me see the brighter future which is possible.
Last night I did something I would never normally do. I went to an event entitled "Bretheren, A New Moon Ritual For Men". The title alone still triggers all my anti spiritual, anti woo woo programming. It's deep in my bones.
But I know the organizer and he's a good friend, so I trusted it and went.
For me, hanging out with men had always meant trying to outdo each others toxic masculinity, which was fun in my youth (even while it scarred me, funny how often I've enjoyed something in the moment and then it hurts me in the long run), but has lost it's appeal since my breakdown/awakening during school. I haven't had many guy friends that I feel close with since that shift in my perspective, as I was left in a middle ground of not interested in hanging with old friends and not comfortable going to woo woo stuff.
So I decided to go, to take the step out into hanging with a different crowd of bros, not a party crowd, not a gamer crowd, not a poker crowd, not a sports crowd, but a crowd that gathers on new moons to do rituals.
The theme was actually three kings, which is funny to me now because I've had the above video on my "to watch" radar for a few days, sitting open in a tab that I could never quite get to. After participating last night the energetic block was cleared and I finally watched it.
At the meeting I was reminded of all the ways men are struggling in our society. It's hard to be struggling when you're in the privileged position. When asked to talk about what masculinity meant, most everyone had a variation on the theme of emotional repression (including myself).
What I never learned growing up was that that shit kills ya, the emotional energy needs to be flowing otherwise the physical body gets damaged. Not to mention the way the blocked emotional energy effects your behavior, your thought process, your minds clarity, and so much more. We definitely need more spaces for men to heal this shit, cause no one is enjoying the consequences of it.
My wife got me a book called "Man Up: Imagining Modern Manhood" by Carlos Andres Gomez. Looks good, gonna give it a go.
No New Year's resolutions here. Absolutely not. I ate a whole pint of pistachio gelato the other day just to spite the idea. I remember also feeling quite depressed, lonely, and bored and that that Italian iced cream could somehow fill in The Void.
I started watching movies again. Junk food and movies is my new thing. I'll cook up some rice and beans which is really a perfect meal besides the arsenic in the white basmati rice. Then I'll start in on popcorn and chocolate covered pretzels. I watched "Isle of Dogs" the other day by Wes Anderson. Really enjoyable film. Then I watched "First Reformed" by Paul Schrader. Fuckin' great film. I enjoy stories. I think much of the human population enjoys stories. I typically like it best in the form of a novel but cinema can be quite enchanting in its own right.
I am completely cruelty free in the soap, shampoo, deodorant department. I got some Tom's deodorant. I didn't realize their home base is Kennebunk, ME. That's about 15 min. away from York, ME and is within the diameter of one of my favorite areas of the earth. Biddeford, ME is also within this diameter. Home of milo and Soulfax record store. I may go up and visit my sister and brother-in-law in Northhampton, MA and take a trip to the coast this summer. Being in the South it is like a breath of fresh air going up in that direction. I did better in regards to Tinder in regards to attractive matches and stimulating conversation. It would appear I am more attracted to the Tinder women collective of Western, MA and Coastal, ME than I am Charleston, SC. If I were to generalize I'd say there seems to be a lot of blonde sorority types here in Charleston and a bit more of an unusual, intellectual vibe coming out of those parts of New England. I like black women too but not the ones immersed in popular rap culture. Some Asians are great.
I have been watching a lot of Angelica White porn lately. I like her personality. I like her breasts too and her degree of thickness but in reality those mammary glands are quite large. It just all seems to work out in the world of pornography. In reality, for me, when dating a woman breast size is not really a conscious thing. I remember one woman I dated had rather large breasts and she would wear these blouses showing off blood rushing to the head inducing cleavage. I just wanted to free them up. But, even so they are just mammary glands. I had to want to have a conversation with the woman. A smart, funny, atheist, anti-natalist, with large breasts who is sexually adventurous. Not sure how many of those I'll find.
This blog kind of took a turn for the it seems clear that I at least partially want to start dating again.
If you think I’m a shitty person, you’re right. Honestly, I’m the shittiest person I know.
Why? Cause I know every detail about my every transgression. Every comment behind someone's back, everything I stole without getting caught, every nasty thought that never crossed my lips.
Sure, I’ve hung out with some scumbags and there are some really famous shitty people, but I only know a fraction of the horrible shit they’ve done. I know every single fucked up thing I’ve ever done, which is a way longer list than I have about anyone else.
And I’m not some teachers pet church boy raised in a sheltered home who never had a chance to do bad things. Au contraire, I’ve done pretty much every shitty thing there is to do, other than murder (but I have attacked people with a deep desire to kill them, and no intention to stop… luckily there was always someone around to pull me off in those moments).
I also planned to continue being a shitty person to my dying day. I was ready for that journey.
Don’t get me wrong, I also was always a good person. I treated both friends and strangers with kindness, love and respect. I helped people without seeking any sort of reward for my generosity. I listened to those who needed an ear and a gave support to those who needed a shoulder to cry on. I was just a shitty person too, ya know, at the same time as I was a good one.
Kind gentle soul by day, a vicious ghost rider by night.
It felt like the best way to build a life that balanced the two was to become an assassin working for the good guys, a James Bond or Agent of Shield, someone who channeled this hatred and anger inside towards protecting the innocent from the villainous. I was ready to be a shitty person till my dying day if I could just use that shittiness for the greater good.
That all changed when I started to see through myself, past my personality, past my ego, past the false “sense of I” upon which everyone is built. I began to see through the societal structures and systems which had always seemed obvious and inevitable, and became aware of their inherent flaws and corruption.
Suddenly it was hard to believe in the good guy bad guy dichotomy, hard to hold onto my anger and hatred, and impossible to continue pretending that I was actually this character who had been developed through an intricate dance of stimulus, response, and assignment of meaning.
At first this left me floundering - lost and confused, scared and nervous. Every internal habit and belief I’d developed in order to successfully navigate the world was revealed for the damage it was causing to my soul, but I didn’t have a new way to orient myself. It was a difficult place to be, astray without a rudder.
That’s when my yoga path started. It came to me first through a book my wife had given me 5 years earlier and I’d refused to read.
I was coming to the end of my psychology degree and realizing that science didn’t have all the answers which I’d always assumed they would. I began pushing the edge of what was acceptable thought, diving into the study of consciousness and the nature of reality with an open mind because my investigation with a skeptical mind had hit a wall. That’s when I suddenly felt called to begin reading the book my wife had gifted me, “Autobiography of a Yogi”.
I’d been attending yoga classes and treating them the same way I’d treated football practice - a competitive workout focused fully on my physical development, but even so, I’d still gotten little moments of meditative experience as a side benefit. Reading the life story of Yogananada and his deeper understanding of the science of yoga, I realized how much more I could be getting from my yoga classes.
My practice changed from a physical workout to a spiritual exploration of myself through the use of an ancient scientific process. In it I found a system with which I could rebuild myself into the person I wanted to be, not the one which genetics, social pressures, and happenstance had shaped me into.
And now I sit here today, still a shitty person, but a less shitty one. The good person inside me has grown now that I know how to cultivate it, while the shitty side of me still lingers, arising when I’m triggered in my weak areas, reminding me that I still have work to do.
But I’m a happier shitty person now, and I’ve got a new mission. Instead of serving the greater good by killing the villains, I’m just gonna slay the demons inside of me and be here to help anyone else who wants to do the same.
Thanks to everyone who has inspired me onto this path, with a special shoutout to Sustainable Human and Charles Eisenstein! If you don’t know them then checkout the insightful video below.
moved and got a new job
+finally broke six figures
-six figures doesn't mean shit in OC
-culture of new job is terrible, can't see myself lasting more than 1.5 years, can't see the company lasting another five (it's a pretty well known startup in it's niche)
+lots of established companies in the area so i don't think it'd be too bad to find a new gig
-miss my friends, lol
broke lifting PRs
+actually benching decent numbers now
+>300 front squat
-hurt my back maxing out on DL then back squatting right after so haven't DL'd in over two months
picked up piano again
putting close to 2k/month in savings
-also got to watch my money wither away over the last couple of months
started BJJ (cassio werneck in the sacramento area)
-moved two months later so had to quit, but had a lot of fun doing it despite getting my ass kicked every time
anyways, new years goals...
-break 1200 for bench/squat/diddly (hoping for 275 bench, 425 squat, 495 DL, current is 205/355/385, being pretty conservative on squat and DL post injury)
*donate $1/lb to a good charity. a couple of years ago when i first broke 1000 i donated to ALS.net, hoping to do something similar
-cut back down to 175 around june/july (current 195)
-add 30k to taxable investments - currently putting 0 in 401k because i don't see myself staying long enough to get any vested amount (100% after 3 years). right now i'm currently putting in 900/check, this will have to be increased to 1250/check
-play these at a decent level:
I'm survivin', man, I'm survivin'. Just did my bills and it looks ok. Car insurance and doctor visits and blood work are expensive though. I was getting over depression and caught a really bad cold I'm still fending off and I'm still depressed but things are looking up. I don't know why. Maybe, that is just my personality. I love the springtime and we are getting closer to that but I am getting older so what do we do with that?
I love my barber because she is a friend of mine and we talk about really dark shit while everyone else is talking about Christmas and the NFL games over the weekend.
There is something about Christmas though. It threw me into new ways of living. My sister came into town and we were always doing stuff. Making pancakes, eating brunch, going to oyster roasts. It was nice to have someone to talk to and joke around with that weren't my parents. I go back to work yesterday and it is like, "oh yeah, back to the grind," but I don't want it to be that way and I don't think it necessarily has to be that way. There is a sort of hollowness that I experience in relation to Christmas but then an even more pronounced hollowness following Christmas. Maybe I just feel hollow a lot. Maybe that's just the way things are going to go.