Letters to Myself

My blog stats dropped drastically after my blogging hiatus last year.  I haven’t done anything to boost them up to where they used to be.

I’m thankful for the decline.  I literally exhaled today when I opened my laptop and looked at my stats.

In the meantime, my other website, my business’s website, has been receiving a steady 90 views per hour.

Why 90 views an hour?  I can not tell you.  I can’t even tell you here on my anonymous blog that gets 25 hits a day.  It’s not even classified as a blog, just letters to myself really.  A way to journal by saving money on notebooks and my hand no longer cramps up.

But since this is technically a public blog, and it’s at least 5 years old now with well over 800 posts, I can’t afford to let it get in the hands of the media.  Not now, not ever.

So, I can’t tell you what’s going on with my business, and I can’t tell you why it’s gone viral, but I can tell you this:  Everything’s going to be okay.

Even if it’s not okay, it’ll still be okay.

Before all this started, I didn’t want to write about my business anymore because it was all depressing shit, and the same shit over and over.  So I started keeping a separate post, just for my eyes only.

The following is an excerpt from my unpublished post.  I started writing it on August 7th 2015:

I’m not going to write anymore she says. I don’t want to write about morose things anymore she says. And what am I doing? The very next day?

I went to bed late last night. I’m still transfixed on the Divergent trilogy and wanted to look up the author to find out who she is.

She’s 23 with 3 worldwide best-selling books under her belt.

I was inspired. So greatly inspired! But then I watched her interview on YouTube and realized just how smart she is. She’s freaking smart and talks like she’s 40. My inspiration waned because it doesn’t count if she’s smart.

I started listening to her third book again, Allegiant, as my bedtime story last night. But I had no idea what she was talking about so I had to listen to her second book, Insurgent, to refresh my memory.

I fell asleep to it and my phone woke me up around 9 AM – no way I was getting out of bed yet – so I rewound the book to chapter one and listened to it again.

I laid my head back on my pillow and closed my eyes.

My dream began.

I was in a small sea-side town, a war broke out and people were scrambling.  Heaps of garbage lay everywhere.  All I wanted to do was clean but as soon as I started, everyone else chimed in and got it done before I even began.

It’s funny because everyone was either hiding or making plans of attack and there I was wanting to clean the place up.

I went outside our base camp and that’s when I became lucid.  I found myself on a Mars-like planet.  The sky was red, the ground, a hard tan colored clay.  I was completely alone but that didn’t matter.  I was struck by the beauty of the landscape. Especially a mountain in the far off distance – it was kaleidoscopic, as though it was painted by hand.

Me – “Wow, this is in my brain!  It’s so beautiful!”

I fell with my back to the ground – not sure how I got there but I didn’t care. I relaxed on my back and continued gazing up at the mountain. But then it started to shift, become blurry, and in it’s haze it made me remember about my business and the trouble I’m in.

I closed my eyes and started rolling. I wasn’t on a hill or anything, but my body acted on it’s own and wanted to roll. So I let it. It was rhythmic and somewhat relaxing until that is, I rolled into a pool of water. I opened my eyes to see the surface getting further and further away.

Me – “You can breathe, remember? This is all just a dream.”

I remained relaxed and limply floated down until the velocity of my decent picked up.  I was getting sucked down fast.  I wanted to test my strength and resurface but the darkness had a tremendous pull on me.

I couldn’t do it.  There was a gravity pulling me down.  Just like ayahuasca said – fear is gravity and will pull you down.  It was exactly that.

But I was lucid, I could breathe, I wasn’t that afraid, so I didn’t understand why. Why couldn’t I fight it?  That’s when I woke up.  But I didn’t want to wake up, not just yet – I had to beat it!  But I was already able to hear the narrator of Insurgent.  It was too late.


When owning a business, each year that passes feels like dog years.  One year equates to seven in my time.  Thailand is a distant memory, I walked the Camino when I was a spritely innocent child.

Last winter was the longest season of my life, and this summers molasses is still sticking to my clock.

I had that dream before all this bad stuff happened.  No matter how brave, no matter how much fear I lacked, I was still brought down.

Why?  What am I missing?

How do I let go without giving up?  How do I let go without having to accept a dreaded ending?

I feel calm, defeated, but calm.  Not depressed.  I’m oddly aloof.  Everyone has been giving me condolences as if someone close to me died.

I’m embarking on the roughest patch yet of my hero’s journey.  I just wish I knew what to do.

And so my dearest Melanie, if you’re still around to read this when all this has passed, does it finally make sense now?  Why all this happened?  If so, can you send me the answers via prayer and transcend space-time?  Please do it now, don’t wait because I know you’ll forget.  Do it with a candle please.

Okay, I’m getting the message to wait.  To just wait and see.

Ugh, even the future Mel is a lazy asshole.  I can’t even send myself a decent prayer message.

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