I have an immense capability to fantasize. My fantasies are outlandish, absurd, but they pass the time while giving massages.
I’m fantasizing about a new book idea. I’m up to chapter 3 in my head. The story is getting so intoxicatingly good that I’m dreaming more about becoming the next JK Rowling than plotting my actual book.
My book idea is so good that I went on ahead and picked myself a boat to buy once I’m rich and famous.
Click the pic so you can see inside it!
I have to give two massages today. It’s very rare not having a day when someone doesn’t request me.
I’m about a year away from not massaging anymore and this month will be the hardest since I’ve opened.
I need to pay $1000 in quarterly taxes and an extra $4000 to my employee’s. So, that makes $5000 I need to pull out of my ass. The question is, do I have enough of ass money?
I’m hurting. I’m hurting and I’m once again missing the summer – my favorite season. Even on days when I do go out, I’m exhausted from massage and tired from stress. Not to mention my ass hurts by me keeping money in it.
At the start of next month, I’ll be lucky if I have $2000 in the bank. $2000!!! Do you have any idea how low that amount is? When I spend at least $12,000 a month just to run the joint?
Enough on that. No more talk about that. Let us accept and surrender.
Accept and surrender….
Eckhart Tolle makes some good points, and he’s definitely connected to that same mass consciousness that I experienced (under ayahuasca), but man. I’m telling you, it’s impossible to separate yourself from your ego unless you’re dead.
Which brings me to my book……
My book will be awesome! Let me look at my boat again….ahhh yes. There it is. There’s my boat.
I’m creating a superhero by incorporating both science and spirituality to forge a protagonist that embodies true free will.
I can write an entire book about how “free” our will is and oh look at that, I am!
We think we’re free, but no. Not as long as taxes exist anyway.
Thoreau couldn’t even escape taxes – he depended on his buddy there, what’s his name? Emerson. He lived on Emerson’s poetically picturesque property to focus on his writing about how minimalistic and courageous he lives. Pfff….good for him to have a rich friend.
That’s the sort of place I need to write my book at. And work on my grammar at.
I’m getting fat.
I never write about my weight, I never even think about my weight, but after getting back from Thailand, I’ve been stuffing my face.
When I travel, I eat in bulk. I have to taste and sample everything. Basically, it throws off my metabolism.
When I got back home this time around, I kept stuffing my pie hole. Hot dogs, pizza, pasta – loads and loads of pasta.
My pants that once hung from me are now squeezing my thighs like spandex.
I experienced weight gain 10 years ago when I was 25. It taken me 3 days a week of exercise and limited sugar intake to get rid of it all in about a year, maybe two years (I stopped keeping track).
However, with my current schedule, I don’t have time to exercise the same way I did when I was 25. I don’t have those 3 lofty days off.
Basically, I can’t write my book or exercise until I retire from massage.
I tried for weeks to schedule Tuesday’s off, but I’m continually getting booked despite my efforts.
Enough garbage talk for one night. Damn I can prattle.
The prattler rambler, when will you stop?
This shit don’t matter,
Your writings a flop.
Tip your hat you’ve been beaten
You’re all out of reason
The prattler rambler
Please just stop