I’m a damned writing fool is what I am

Hi I’m Melanie and I’m a time traveler.  I’m from the year 2068 and I’m 88 years old. I traveled back in time to accomplish everything that I was too scared to do when I had the chance.  The only problem is, I forgot all my memories of the future.  I’m living today as if my older self never existed.  I have a clean slate, a new beginning.

So here I am at 33 years old.  Perfect health, perfect teeth.  Not a single responsibility except for owning a small business where I set my own hours.  I have $8,000 in the bank and a steady flow of continuous income.

I landed myself at a good time in my lifeline.  A time where I can literally do anything, learn anything.  BE anyone!

Yesterday I got home from work at around 5.  I needed to finish planning the last two weeks of Spain where I’ll be traveling from Santiago, Madrid, Barcelona and then to Pamplona for the running of the bulls.  I had to book my hostels in advance so to avoid getting stuck anywhere paying out the nose (learned from a client).  I mapped out walking directions to the airport, walking directions from Hostel to Hostel, I purchased a plane ticket to take me from Santiago to Madrid.

I’m still not done planning yet.  It’s the directions that I want to be sure of.  I’m going to try and avoid taxi’s and public transit so long as I can help it.  It’s cheaper to walk, plus I get to see more scenery.  I immerse myself in my surroundings when I walk.  However, I no doubt will have to learn the bus or subway system while I’m there if by any chance there’s a “must see” museum far off.

This type of planning is the hard part.  Pilgrimages are easier.  They’re linear and you walk in a straight line from town to town.  Very little planning is necessary because everything you need to know and see is all right there.

My clients are starting to say, “I’ll see you when you get back!”  Instead of saying, “What do you have open 4 weeks from now?”

To me it still feels like it’s so far off in the future.  But it’s not.  Today is April 19 and I leave for Arizona May 8.  That’s in how many days?  27.  27 more days.  27 days until I’m in the desert eating peyote buttons and searching for my spirit animal.  And in 33 days I’ll be walking 500 miles to unknown lands across the sea.

My next client will be here any minute.  I’m booked mostly everyday until I leave.  I feel like I should be home planning the rest of those last two weeks.  I’m jittery and restless.  And last night I was hit once again with the mean reds.  The mean reds of fearing that I’m truly alone on my journey.

It’s now the next day.  I got locked out of my office because I went for a drink with my last client to the attached bar upstairs.  He’s a politician, a democrat.  He was mayor at 26 years old and now he’s something else but I didn’t ask what he does.  He’s very smart and I enjoyed his conversation, so agreed to one drink which turned into several.  He’s gotta be out of his mind if he’s looking for a cheap hook up.

My clients are awesome, I ain’t gonna lie.  Every person that comes to see me now are all regulars that know about my trip.  Today I’m massaging my asian mentor client – it’s exciting.  90 minutes of good conversation and I’ll be rewarded with $100.  My job is the shiz.  The shiz I say!

I’m the shiz.

Not only am I the shiz, but a Melanie Hater texted me last night saying that we’re going to be just fine.  It made me so happy to hear!  That means I’m most likely going to Maine after the trip to Spain and I’ll be welcomed back into my family of friends after our long harrowing absence.  It’s like returning home for real – returning to happier times – my roots and my heart.  That makes a journey like this possible.  It lifts me up and gives me strength.

So I returned to a time in my life where I have no limits.  I have the wisdom of my 88 year old self and the timeless love of forgiveness and togetherness.  I’m not alone, and not only am I not alone, but I’m loved.

Two nights ago I was exhausted while laying in bed surrendering to sleep.  That’s when I asked the question, “is there really a God?  One almighty God?”

I tried rationalizing the irrational.  I realized that I had to turn off my monkey brain and use my left brain – the feeling side that know’s no language.  I tried feeling the answer – I deeply meditated and probed for an answer, for some kind of understanding.  Then it hit me.  Hit it me so hard that it felt like my chest was being brutally punctured by that long syringe from Pulp Fiction.  I felt like I was having a heart attack and that my mind was going insane.

For a brief second I had it.  I felt it.  I understood.  But my brain couldn’t handle it.

He felt like a singularity and all encompassing  – so close and so far.  Webs, mathematics, love and fear, light and dark.  My brain wasn’t able to hold onto it.  I felt terror and panic welling up inside.  My heart physically felt adrenaline – so much so that I wanted it to stop.  But I understood – I saw it.  There are no words to describe what I felt.  Only that yes, there is a God.  Not only is there a God, but we will NEVER be able to know him.

We will never be able to connect deeply with him.  Much like infants not being able to understand their parents.  We’re just not there yet.  We haven’t grown enough.

But yeah, I connected for a brief moment with God and wow holy crap.  Do I want to do it again?  I don’t know.  I have to have unwavering faith and belief in myself – eliminating my fear of death, eliminating my need to control.  I need to be deeply aware of myself and my individuality so that I don’t lose myself or my mind.

Okay, now it’s 2:30 in the morning.  I just got home from Bar in New Haven.  I was in the back, where the dance happens.  I was a dancing fool.  The only one wearing hiking boots.  At one point I proclaimed, “It’s too damn crowded in here, I can’t dance my real dance!”  So the girls I went there with pushed back all the sweaty vibrating guys and made room for me.  I let loose and didn’t give a shit.  I was me in all my glory, and everyone moved back to recognize.

All anyone wants is to be either entertained or inspired.  If they can’t get love with whomever they’re with, they look for it on the outside.  All anyone wants is love.  Self actualized love.  It’s all about connection, inspiration, appreciation.  Knowing how you look to others and having that awareness to respect and connect on their level.  It’s the Great Agreement is what I call it.  The physical reality of the outside in agreement with what’s on the inside.

You can be who you are all you want, but to really have an influence on the outside world, you have to connect with it.  And of course the only way to do that is with self-actualization.  That illuminous video camera that captures your true self.  You have to see yourself in the real world so you don’t lose yourself or your mind.

I’m laying here in bed eating carrot sticks and vaping my electronic cigarette.  Nobody really know’s me, nobody sees.  But when I create, they see.

If only people can see what I see, know what I know….

I don’t want to stop writing, but it’s about that time.  If I don’t stop, it will turn into another “I’m Teething” post.  All egoistic, not mindful.

Damn, I want to keep writing….

I’m making a lot of money lately.  That’s egoistic.  It’s not stopping either.  It just keeps coming and coming.  Like one of my nose bleeds as a kid.  It keeps pouring out.  You want to stop and take a break, but it keeps coming out.

Tonight, as I grabbed a beer from the bar and made my way back to my friends on the dance floor, I had to lift my chin up to avoid random shoulders jutting up making contact with my jaw.  I listened to the DJ playing dance music, everyone being so random.

When you listen to a band play, everyone’s facing the same way – everyone has the same purpose.  When a DJ spins a record, it’s all random.  Sex and animal instincts take over.  Everyone facing this way and that.

I went to a film festival tonight at Yale.  The showing was “Habemus Papam” translated to English, “We Have a Pope.”  It’s an Italian movie about a fictitious Pope abdicating his throne.  It was such a well made movie.  It struck a few chords in me.  He didn’t have faith or belief enough in himself to trust God.  He wasn’t self-actualized, not being certain of what he wanted.  It showcased deep truths about our fallible human nature.

All Guru’s are fake.  Anything written about sacred wisdom is fake.

Anyone can learn anything and be capable of regurgitating and believing whatever they learn.  But to have actual knowledge is completely different.  Knowledge can’t be found in a book or in a person.  To have actual knowledge is a whole brain process.  It’s called wisdom, and in the sci-fi book, Stranger from A Strange Land, it’s called Grokking.

To Grok something is to not only understand it, but to familiarize.  To see your reflection in it.  People can’t tell you anything, you have to figure things out on your own.  It’s the only way to understand anything.  Everyone’s just too lazy or too busy to put themselves anywhere they haven’t already been.

I need to sleep.  I booked myself a 10am tomorrow.  A quick $100 bucks.   Then two more to follow suit.  People want in.  There’s very little time for anything else.

Just under 2,00o words.  Sorry guys, it’s hard to hold back.  Especially when shit faced.

2 Comments

Filed under All about me, journal, random thoughts, Travel

2 responses to “I’m a damned writing fool is what I am

  1. rmj183

    Hey writer..

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