Category Archives: All about me

My Last 3 Days

Today is Wednesday.  On Monday, I had insomnia.  I had insomnia by drinking one small bottle of Starbucks mocha latte, an impulse buy from Stop & Shop.

When I have insomnia, my mind goes into hyperdrive.

I thought of a new science fiction story about a young man who starts hearing voices.  The voice tells him that it’s himself, from the future.  His future self found a way to have consistent lucid dreams and through his lucid dreaming, he’s able to go out of body and into new dimensions of spacetime.  He can travel back in time but only as a voice in the head of his younger self.

I’m picturing Chris Pratt for this character.  A stupid, lovable Chris Pratt.  His future self is also stupid and all he wants to do is save the world, but he doesn’t know how.  They befriend a psychologist who treated Chris once he started hearing voices.  He thought he was going crazy so he went to see a psychologist.  It was the psychologist who convinced Pratt that he isn’t crazy, and together they team up to find ways he can use his gift to better the world.

I thought about this for 6 or 7 hours.  Completely immersed in my new fantasy.

It’s such a weird thing, insomnia.  I normally get sleepy around mid-night and fall asleep with no problem.  It’s like hitting a switch.  But with insomnia, I’m tired but not enough to hit the switch and when I want to hit the switch, I can’t find it.

Yesterday I had to brave the winter storm by going to work to let the Maytag man in to fix the dryer.  He told me what I already knew.  That the dryer was overheating due to our ostensibly long exhaust pipe.  I’ll either need to vent the dryer inside the room itself, or get an inline blower for $150 bucks.  But even with the blower, it might not be good enough.  I’m going to try venting inside the room, but there are also disadvantages to that such as needing a dehumidifier and constant filter changes.  And the heat will be stifling.

After that, I went to shoot pool in my league.  Because of the storm, we were short players.  Due to this fact, I had to be the sacrifice that night.  Being pit against a 6 while I’m a mere 2.  I was a 2 who’s gotten no sleep!  I said that I’d rather not play, and to play our 7 against the 6 instead, but our 7 didn’t want to play either.

I ended up getting crushed, but two of my buddies were there and we ended up playing each other after our matches.  All of us lost last night and we cheered each other up.

The problem with exhaustion is, at some point, adrenaline kicks on.  It’s a vicious cycle.  Exhaustion can in fact, end up keeping you awake!  I tried focusing on my audiobook to tune myself down.  I wanted so badly to write last night.  My mind was on fire with so many questions and idea’s.

I can’t remember what time I fell asleep.  No later than 2AM, but guess what time I woke up today?  2PM!  And I woke up exhausted.  I slept the whole way through.

My audiobook does a great job in putting me to sleep but it also ceases my ability to dream.  Dreaming is one of the most fantastic things I’m great at.  With dreams, I get to learn from my mistakes.  It subconsciously repairs my brain to become in sync with my desires.  Like with wanting to play better pool, dreaming about pool can make me a better shot.

There’s actual studies about this.  I won’t get better at pool unless I play it so much that I dream about it.  It’s the dreams that make us brilliant.

I have so many stupid ambitions and infatuations.

All I want to do today is play my game and hide from the world.  I don’t want to think about anything or talk to anyone.  But I have a client at 6:30.

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Get the fucking ball in the hole

My first APA game, I went up against a lovable old man.  I didn’t want to beat him.  I thought I’d “go easy on him”.  But in the end, he ended up beating me and I learned a valuable lesson.

Tuesday I was up against another adorable old man, Wally.  He had an oxygen tank and everything.

Me thinking – “Not this time old timer, not this time.”

I beat him.  He’s actually a decent shot too.

Every opponent I’m up against, I take seriously.  I take each shot seriously.  I’m training my mind to “get in the zone” for each ball I go for.

Tuesday I arrived an hour early for my match and left at 2AM – way after it was over.  I played a man named Dave for a couple hours after the match and towards the end of the night, I started beating him at every game.  I was getting better with each game we played.

I drank a lot of beer, but it didn’t seem to effect me.  I know that sounds like crap, but beer has no effect on my pool skills what-so-ever.  As long as I keep my focus in check (which takes a little more effort when inebriated).

The only thing that effects my game is my level of confidence and applying everything that I’ve learned.

But the best thing that helps me sink my shots is in telling myself, “Just get the fucking ball in the hole.”

It’s like I wipe the slate clean.  I don’t think about anything that I learned, and instead I focus on getting the ball in the pocket.  But at the same time, I’m aware of my body mechanics and knowing the precise place to hit the ball because I learned how from past experience – it’s all there, just subconsciously there.  I forget it all and focus on the main goal – to get the ball in the pocket.

I don’t know how or why this works, but it works.  I want to write about it so I don’t forget it – that’s how important it is.

Get the fucking ball in the pocket, Melanie.

My favorite part of the night was arriving early for my match.  When nobody else was there yet.  I popped in my wireless headphones and tried making the same shot over and over again.  The exact same shot, just over and over and over – whether or not I make it in.

Everyone else, they like to practice by shooting the balls wherever they lay, but not me.  Same shot.  Over and over.

And then I find myself with that exact same shot during a match and I think to myself, “just like practice Melanie, Just like practice.”  And I make it in.

I actually have fun when I take the same shot repeatedly.  I don’t get bored with it.  I get confused, curious, proud, all in that order.

I love pool.  I have trouble understanding why not everyone enjoys it.



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Lucid Dreaming

I just woke up from a lucid dream while laying on my PEMF mat.

I haven’t laid on this thing since it made me puke last week.

I wasn’t even tired today but as soon as I laid down, my eyes closed and I fell asleep within seconds.

I awoke sitting next to my friend Stephanie who proceeded in telling me that I was in her dimension and not my own.

I started asking her all these questions, stuff I don’t already know, and she diligently answered them and surprised me with her answers.  Unfortunately this dream was my first lucid dream in quite some time – my first ANY dream actually.  So I’m a bit out of practice in remembering what she said.

Steph:  “Do you want to watch E later?”

Me:  “E?!  Who the hell watches E?”

Steph:  “What time are you from again?  E!  It’s Neil Diamond’s special.”

Me – “Neil Diamond?  What’s so great about Neil Diamond?”

Steph – “How can you even ask me that?”

Then my old poodle that passed away 15 years ago jumped on my lap.

Me – “Oh my god, Spudz!  I missed you so much, you didn’t visit me in years!  How are you buddy, you doing alright?  Your fur is so soft and clean.”

I hugged and kissed him.

Then Julia Styles appeared.

Me – “Julia Styles?  What are you doing here?”

Julia – “Oh hey……..”

I forgot what she says but I went over to her and seeing that it was a dream and all, I started kissing her.  No tongue, just lips.  She had a small mouth and it was unfulfilling.

While I was making out with Julia Styles, I was transported away to another room where a man sat on the bottom half of a bunk bed.

Me – “Hey, who are you?”

Him – “I”m part of your team.  We’re looking for someone who just tried feeling up Julia Styles.”

Me thinking – I didn’t try feeling her up, what’s he talking about?

But then I jumped his bones too, but he disappeared on me before I got the chance.

All these people in my dream were teammates. We were a team of super hero’s.  We were superhero’s because we knew the world we lived in wasn’t real, we could control it.

At some point during the dream, my ex-boyfriend Dave showed up.  Dave wasn’t part of the superhero team, but he was there to help us.

I shouldn’t even be writing about this especially now that he’s married with a kid on the way, but once again, I jumped his bones.  I pulled his pants down and gave him a blowjob.

Me thinking – I can finally give him that deep throat he’s always wanted.

But no, even in my dreams I gag.  How is that even possible?!

Lucid dreams have the tendency of feeling more real than real.  Especially when it comes to sex.  Everything is heightened beyond your wildest expectations.  I’m not blowing smoke and you’d not believe me until you experience it yourself.  It’s the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever have in real life.

Julia Styles spotted a group of men dressed in black approaching the house we were hiding in.  They worked for the government and it was their job to kill superhero’s who might tilt the scale of power.

Julia Styles – “RUN!”

Since I knew it was a dream, I willed myself to fly upward into the ceiling.  It was hard to go through the wood of the ceiling, but I pulled myself through.  There were multiple floors in this house and I never seemed to reach the top.

Me – “Screw it, I’m going out the side.”

I flew out the side of the house and found myself floating in the universe.  I tumbled around at crazy speeds (but not out of body, it was still only a dream).  I floated through electric purple and blue storm universes which were my least favorite, and then I ended up on a planet completely made out of pixels.  It was a low-def video game from the 80’s.

Me thinking- Oh man, why are my dreams so outdated?  I can think up better graphics than this!”

I turned into Link from Zelda, only a female Link wearing a skirt instead of pants.  Zelda, I guess I was Zelda.  And I continued to fly around in a Minecraft-looking world, building castles and stuff as I floated above everything.

That’s the time I over-heated and woke up.  My PEMF mat was set to 5, it clearly states not to fall asleep with it set to 5.

I didn’t abuse the other controls though.  I didn’t give myself an overdose of PEMF, IONs, and PHOTONs like I did last week.

Damn, I gotta go to work.

it’s now the next day. Or possibly two days later, I don’t know.

I just reread what I wrote and what I want to know is why the hell am I so horny in lucid dreams? I’m NOT like that in real life. Nowhere near it, complete opposite. In fact, I just bought my first vibrator at a romance party and it’s not even the kind with the shaft and balls, it’s just a vibrating ring I can wear on my finger. Honestly I probably won’t even use it.

I’m going to Google horny lucid dreaming, hold on….


It’s now a lot of days later……too many days later.  Work has me all knotted up these days.  I’m posting this now or I’ll never post it.

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The Gentle Rumbling Rambles of a Babbling Blog

I’m laying on an $850 dollar PEMF mat made out of a bunch of small semi-precious stones.  27 pounds worth of semi-preciousness and 6 more pounds of technical equipment that I can’t begin to understand.

I feel like one of those rich people that buys shit just because they can.

Here’s the exact PEMF mat I bought

It’s the heating element that I don’t understand.  I can crank this baby up full blast, I think it get’s to be around 150 degree’s.  But when I place my hand on it, it only feels lukewarm to the touch.  However, when I lay my entire body on it…..holy shit that’s freaking hot!  I started to sweat my balls off and I don’t even have balls!

I felt the heat in my bones and in my blood.  My entire body covered in immense heat.  My pajama bottoms were getting damp and that never happens, not even when I work out.

I’ve been laying on this thing since I got home at 4:30 and now it’s 11:27.

Anyway, aside from this ridiculously expensive heat mat, I wanted to write about my new business again.  I want to calculate the absolute lowest amount of money I have to make a day in order to break even.

Let’s say rent is $500, internet is what?  $40?  Tracfones are crazy cheap but let’s say $60 a month for two of them.  And that’s it.  Those are my expenses.  $600 a month.  Now, how many clients do I need a day to reach $600 a month…..

600 divided by 30 days is $20 a day.  I need 3 45-minute birthday massages a day, or one 45-minute birthday massage and one 75-minute birthday massage a day, or one coupon client a day.

If I have one coupon client a day, that’s $38.75 a day X 30 days is $1162.50 minus $600 is $562.50.

When I run the numbers this way, things look a bit grim.  Shit.  It’s possible I won’t break even for at least 4 months, and instead, paying out my teeth for this new place.  I already spent over $1000 on it and it’s still the very beginning phase.

The current business I have now, we get a TON of the same people booking every month.  Today alone, we had 5 – would’ve been 6 but one cancelled.  The one that cancelled has been with me since day one at my first stink-hole office.

If I can get my new business to have these same numbers, well, I’d be stinking rich is what.

But the therapists I’m hiring aren’t me.  I hate to say it but I’m freaking special.  I really REALLY hate to say it.  And everybody would equally hate to hear me say it.  As soon as I say it, my specialness is gone and now I’m the opposite of special, but more like hated.  Hated in a special way.  Envy is probably the worst kind of hate.  It’s why wars are started!  All war!

Envy is equal to lack of power and when acting on this lack of power, destruction falls in your wake.  You may win and get to write the history books, but you’ll always be miserable because you’ll never be self-sufficient, but always dependent on someone or something.

Narcissists are the most envious people there are.  Take take need need.

I’m rambling.

Go on, hate me for thinking that I’m special.  I’d do it too.  I hate when people say that.  Mostly out of annoyance rather than envy.  Only two or three times did I feel the envy, that’s how I know about this.  I didn’t read about it, I experienced it.  Luckily the disease never latched.

When people talk highly of themselves (or even highly of their kids), it can breed envy.  Why anyone would wish to be envied is beyond my scope of understanding.  Where’s the love in that?

Part of my charm is that I act like a kid.  When I’m being myself, that’s how I act.  But not an immature kid or an emotionally inept person – I act inexperienced, but I’m happy about my inexperience because it means I can only get better and no matter how good I get, I’ll always think of myself as inexperienced.  I’ll always ask questions and respect others opinions and advice.

Come to think of it, my travel buddy, Hana, is the exact same way.  We acted like children together exploring foreign lands but somehow expertly navigated the whole trip by the seat of our pants.  It was fucking awesome.

My personality can best be described by this PEMF infrared heating mat.  I don’t emit heat, I’m cool to the touch, but my heat penetrates deeper than all those other heating mats.  It’s like I’m energy efficient or something.  I only expend myself when needed.  Perhaps this is the origin of my laziness?  I can’t be awesome if I’m not lazy?

God, I hate writing about myself like this.  I really do.  I’m not like that, you know me best, right?  It’s embarrassing is what it is.

But my point is…..I have about 40 clients still coming to my business, all of whom have known me since Massage by Melanie.  My other therapists?  Not even close.  Even after all this time.  Well, Mollie would be the closest.  Then Adonis.  But these clients don’t even get massages by me anymore, they come to my business simply because they like me.

Finding therapists that match my caliber are a rare find.  Trust me, I’ve worked at Massage Envy, known quite a few therapists in my day and very few of them match my caliber of having both skill and likability.

I know what people want.  That’s the trick.  To take myself out of the equation.  My therapist, Mollie, is an expert at this.  She’s not the smartest person I ever met, but she’s a genius at likability.  And now that you know my secret, there’s no need for the envy.

I’m freaking tired.  I’m going to finish watching Future Man on Hulu and hit the hay.

The saying “hit the hay” is literally older than mattresses.

Wow….I just googled the history of mattresses for the last 15-20 minutes.

Oh God I have problems.


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Me, Myself and My Heart Condition

A few days ago I wrote about waking up in the middle of the night with a feeling that a diamond replaced my heart.

Yeah well, as it turns out – I think it’s a freaking heart condition!

The diamond lasted for about 3 days and went away after I slept for 12 hours.  I didn’t realize the diamond was a problem until it went away.

My heart takes the brunt of all my stress.  Whether I’m happy, sad or excited – my heart knows what I feel before I do.

All emotion is stress, even the good ones.

When the diamond went away, I couldn’t feel my heart anymore.  It went on pumping in quiet contemplation.  It feels healthier when I don’t know it’s there.  I’m not supposed to feel pangs in my chest or shortness of breath – these things are bad Melanie.  Bad!

I paid off that $5,000 of debt I gave to my lawyer.  I paid it off  sooner than expected, so now I’m squeaking by financially with fingers crossed that I make it.

I need to calm the fuck down.  Calm the fuck down girl.

I can feel the diamond creeping back in.  Like it knows I’m excited.  It’s excited that I’m writing this post!  I’m getting jolts by just typing this!

Okay, I need to change my thought process.  I need to think sleepy time tea.  Milk and honey.  Poppies, puddles, a rainbow reflection. Think sand and wind.

Think about the mantra from the movie, The Men Who Stare at Goats:

Mother Earth, you are my life support system.

As a soldier, I must drink your blue water, live inside your red clay and eat your green skin.

Help me to balance myself as you hold in balance the Earth, the sea and the space environments.

Help me to open my heart, knowing the Universe will feed me.

I pray my boots will always kiss your face and my footsteps match your heartbeat.

Carry my body through space and time.

You are my connection to the Universe and all that comes after.

I am yours and you are mine.

I salute you.

Calm the fuck down Melanie.  Calm the fuck down please.

Why is this happening?   Let’s think about it….My heart feels really dense and constricted….hmm.

I felt my heart unclench a bit as I read “Help me to open my heart, knowing the Universe will feed me.”

I think my newly found heart issue has to do with trust.  I’m scared everything will fall apart.  My heart is clenching like a fist in order to hang onto things.  Like, the minute I turn away and I’m no longer excited, everything will slip away.  I’ll lose focus, make mistakes, lose interest or hope.  My heart doesn’t trust anything that’s happening because it’s never known true happiness or freedom.  All it’s ever known is how to keep its head above water.

I subconsciously want to keep myself excited until my dreams match my reality, than I can relax.  The excitement is a placeholder of sorts.

I need to find a heart opening poem, hold on…

Ugh, it’s all sappy garbage about love.  I have too much love, that’s the problem!  I’m having heart issues because life is amazing and true freedom is obtainable.  But the real issue is that I don’t trust it.

This, I need to work on.  I’ll turn a possible heart condition into heart condition-ing!  You see what I did there?  I added an “ing” at the end.   I’m going to condition my heart into letting go and trusting the universe.  And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll live long enough to see flying cars and teleportation.

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4 Days Until Camino

I leave for my trip in T minus 4 days.

My mind is in shambles.  I’m laying here in bed – so unbelievably fucking comfortable you have no idea.  I’m warm, I’m fed, I’m loved, my life is grand and wonderful these days; I’ve even spoken with my lawyer today about the lawsuit and he says the whole case is stupid.  Literally, he called it stupid.

Him – “It’s a straight forward simple case.  You did nothing wrong and there was no way to prevent any of it from happening.  If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.  You’ll be fine.”

I’ve never had a lawyer before and I’m sure they all say things like “it’ll be just fine” or “don’t worry about it” to their clients but in my case, it rings true.  There were literally no precautions or warning signs that I missed or could’ve foreshadowed.  It was all a roll of the dice.  Shit luck.

This was the first time he told me not to worry though.  Thanks buddy, you could’ve told me that sooner.  Before my mental breakdown and going through the 5 stages of grief hundreds of times over.

Anyhow, I’m truly loving my bed right now.  Oh God I love it.  I love Netflix.  I love doing nothing and this time of night (11pm) is the time I can get away with doing nothing.  I have a big plate of nothing all to myself.

So why’s my mind in shambles?

I had a long-ass summer.  It ended with me having to house sit two dogs and a cat for 10 days.  I just got home, when was it?  Yesterday?  I don’t know.  But during those 10 days I was up at the ass crack of dawn letting those dogs out to pee.  And at night, they had to sleep with me.  They taken up the whole bed to where I was sleeping horizontal on the mattress.  I’d wake up in the morning cranky as hell.  They’d wake me up with a paw to the face.

Both dogs like to lick.  They lick your face, your pants, your eyeballs, inside your mouth….etc.  One day as I was exiting the shower, I walked over to the bed where my clothes lay spewed out everywhere and there were the dogs on the bed with my clothes.  Both of them, at the same time, decided to lick my naked nipples.  Each of my nipples had a dog attached to it.

I felt so grossed out, I felt violated.  I just wanted to get dressed.  That’s all that I wanted.  But instead, there I was cold, wet, and had two dogs sucking at my teats.

I love home.  I love it so freaking much.  I want to stay here and hunker down for a while.  I want to be alone in a bunker.  But this can’t be, it’s not in the stars.  I leave in 4 days to go someplace opposite of being home, comfortable, well fed and feeling stunningly fantastic.  I’m going on a 35 day torture hike across Spain to lose weight.  To lose weight!  So I’m not one of the first to go during the zombie apocalypse.  I’d be able to run goddammit.

Whoever says it’s fun is full of shit.

I think I need to see a therapist.  I have a few friends who see therapists, so why shouldn’t I?  The major issue’s I want to address is my laziness and my lack of caring what people think of me.

Now, most people would say that that’s wonderful – it’s great and liberating to not care what others think but they’re wrong.  So way off the mark wrong.

Firstly, I don’t engage with people anymore.  I don’t care enough to engage with them.  I don’t care enough to, well, care about them.  Why?  Because I was a huge engager in the past and everyday the more I engaged, the more people expected it.  At the end of the day, none of it mattered.  No matter what I did, it was never permanently good enough and when it was good enough, the next day I had to be even better.

I went the other way.  It’s not that I don’t care exactly, it’s more like I stopped trying.  I don’t try with people anymore.  My office manager pointed this out to me last night over a few pints.  I pointed it out to myself about a month or so ago.

As far as the laziness goes…..”how the hell can you be lazy and walk across Spain then?”  Is what you’re thinking.  The thing with that is, laziness is a privilege.  Laziness is not just about laying around, it’s a mind-set.  It’s a mind-set of complete and utter ease.  No worries.  No responsibilities.  Just freedom of all problems.

My type of laziness, the kind I’m talking about, it’s my personal drug of choice.  And it’s addicting as hell.  It’s better than anything else out there on the market.  Not even beer can hold a candle to it.

Basically, I can’t be both fat and lazy.  They cancel each other out.  I won’t feel completely at ease again until I lose at least 25 pounds.  Hence, the Camino and why I have to walk it (again).

If everyone experienced the same type of laziness that I experience, everyone in the world would be their own boss, have a clean conscience and stay healthy.  Having a clean conscience also affects how well I can rest and relax.  All vexes must be aired out and all foibles on my part must be atoned for.

Delicious laziness to extreem.  Extreem power resting.  Angelic homeostasis.  Until I start trying with people and it all goes to shit when it’s never enough.  Best to stay under the radar.

I’d tell these things to my shrink but what good will it do?

Does everyone experience the same type of lazy bliss?  The same natural habitat of my resting mind?  It’s my home base.  The place I can always return to once all else is settled.  To take my bra off and let the pups lick my nips….no.  That’s disgusting.

But you know what I mean?  A place where I can’t be hurt.  Not by myself nor by any others.

I don’t think people grasp it the same way I do.  They either don’t get it or decided to live a lie – a lie they reason with as being their only viable option.

I downloaded 18 audiobooks for my 500 mile journey.  If the actual walk doesn’t change me, I’m sure one of those books will.  My goal is to want to try again with people.  But this time, I’ll make it enough for me and not care if it’s not enough for them.  That’ll be my emotional goal this time around but my main focus is losing 25 pounds.

I don’t need a therapist, just give me a pen and paper.


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Filed under All about me, camino de santiago, journal, random thoughts, Self help, Travel

Melanie, what are you doing

I had a nice quiet day planned for myself.  I was to get up, get my hair cut at my brother’s salon, check in at work, go hike up my big little mountain and then finish off the day with my blog at Cheshire Coffee.  A perfect day.  The perfect plan.

But it all came undone when I checked in at work.  I was making confirmation calls (my receptionist is in Spain this week) and without going into the boring details, I was suckered into taking a client smack dab in the heart of the day (4:30pm is the heart).  My original plan was blown to shit.  On such a beautiful day too.

So instead, when I was done massaging, I took my $10 tip and bought myself a quart of beef Pho from the Thai place.  Then I went home to watch season 2 of Sense 8 with my dog.

Just as I was about to click on Sense 8, Netflix suggested that I watch Anne with a E.

Me thinking – “What is Anne with an E?  Did they remake Anne of Green Gables?”

“I’ll just watch the first few minutes of it to see how it compares to the old one.”

And here I am at 11 o’clock at night with Netflix asking me if I’m still watching.

“STFU Netflix, don’t judge me.  Yes I’m still watching!”

I’m on the start of episode 4 season one.  It’s better than the last remake.  They picked the perfect actress to play Anne this time.  I can NOT stop watching.

And this my friends, is my Tuesday.


Have you ever found yourself perfectly content, enjoying some mundane activity and then you catch yourself enjoying it?  Almost like you’re looking at yourself from third person POV, kind of spying on yourself, and you ask yourself, “Melanie?  What the hell are you doing….What is this….Is this your life now?”

Have you ever done that?  Because I do it at least once an hour.

“Melanie, what are you doing….”

When I smoke pot, this third person point of view is resounding.  Demanding attention.  Scolding me and calling me a fool.  For stupid things too, like for staying up late when I can no longer keep my eyes open.

Pot- “What the fuck is wrong with you?!!  If you’re tired, GO TO SLEEP!”

It happens with other people too.  “What the hell are they doing?  Do they even know what they’re doing?”  Again, it’s a hundred times worse when I smoke pot.  I can’t smoke around others because they all seem fake somehow.  Fake and scared.  Not everyone, but mostly everyone.

It’s like I’m forever in third person.  I feel this way when I hike.  My body isn’t connected to my head.  When I walk, I feel too high off the ground, too clumsy.  I’m like a scarecrow, full of straw with my arms flipping around whenever I stumble on a rock.  Like I have no bones in me.  I can’t see myself.  It’s like I’m walking blind.

It’s hard to explain, and no, I’m not high right now, but those words are the best I can describe it.

What are you doing Melanie…..what are you doing.

I’m tired but I want to watch one more episode of Anne.

“These episodes are long!  They’re like an hour.”

Pish posh I’ll have none of that.  I do what I please.

I keep looking at myself wishing myself into normalcy.  I’m scared is what it is.  Not the mean reds, not depression kind of scared, but scared of unhappiness.  I’m scared of being unhappy.  And that fear is keeping me from everything.  It keeps me away from romance, from having kids, from wanting a 9-5 job.

I believe everything will happen in time, when I’m ready.  And what makes me happy now is watching Anne of Green Gables….I can’t help it.  I can’t help being happy now at this very moment in my little life.  It’s like a secret I have to keep.  I’m not supposed to feel this way.  I can’t be content now, not when there’s so much more I need to do.

There’s a push and pull in me, always.  Just enough tension in my fraying elastic.

But all I can do is wait and see how everything plays out.  I can’t make my next move.  Not until this lawsuit is over, which already wreaked havoc on my psyche.

So let me enjoy these few simple moments.  These precious free days that I worked years to acquire.

What am I doing?  I’m taking one day at a time.  That’s what I’m doing.



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The ATM mugged me

This lawsuit has really gotten into my head and warped it.

I went to the bank today to deposit all the cash money I saved towards my bankruptcy fund and ended up accusing the ATM for eating $370 of it.

I flipped the fuck out.  I wanted to cry.

Remember that dream I had?  The one where I was eating money so nobody could steal it?  Yeah, well, I subconsciously feel like somebody is out to take my money.  That’s what I mean when I say the lawsuit warped my mind.  It got to me on the deepest levels of my psyche.  Not even $50,000 of debt had the capacity to do that.

So there I was at the ATM, subconsciously thinking that people want to steal my money.  I had NO idea what my mind was concocting behind the scenes.  No clue this was lurking in the shadows.

That particular wad of cash was symbolic.  Not like the other times I deposited money.  This time I was handing out my safety net, feeding it to the beast.  The cog of economy.  My subconscious was irate at this ATM for taking away my only security.

Long story short, I went through the rigamarole of filing a claim.  I was at the bank for at least 20 minutes.  The chubby girl helping me was so smart and kind and actually calmed me down because she wasn’t a dumb ass.  She was patient.  She was even patient towards the dumb ass banker on the phone with her.

After I was done, the claim filed and the missing money credited into my account, I walked over to the teller.

Her – “Did everything work out okay?”

Me – “Yeah, everything’s fine.  They actually credited my account.”

Her – “That’s good to hear.”

I handed her the money to deposit instead of going to the ATM again and that’s when I seen it.  The rest of my deposit money.

Me – “I made a mistake.”

Her – “Yes?”

Me – “I found the missing money.”

Both the tellers laughed and said “these things happen.”

The Chubby girl who helped me didn’t laugh.  I wasn’t laughing either.

This shit never happens to me – NEVER.  That damn lawsuit snaked its way in.  I’m starting to fall in line with the rest of the stupid lame ass adults not having a clue.  They’re clueless because of their snakes!

Granted, I haven’t eaten or drank any water before then and it was already 2:00, and my 2-year old cousin/nephew died last week.  But still….

Utter embarrassment.

I went to work to see my receptionist.  She’s buying us tickets to the Colosseum and the Vatican so we can skirt the line.  I filled my big empty Nalgene bottle with cold filtered water and chugged half of it.

Then I went hiking up my big little mountain on an empty stomach.

Brutal.  God awful brutal it was.  My stomach was so empty but I STILL wanted to puke.

I think I’m going again tomorrow.  Up the big little mountain.  On a full stomach this time.


It’s happened.  My retirement from massage.  This is my second day off and I already feel well-rested.  But it doesn’t matter how well rested I am as long as snakes are snaking their way into my skull.  My only protection from them is acknowledgment.  Yes I see you and yes I am clearly affected by your presence.

Snake – “Sssssso waddya goin’ to do about it hmmm?”

I’m going to keep you in my sites.

Snake – “You can’t essscape your problemssss no matter how much you mull over them.  I am a part of you now.”

Not unless I keep you separated.  You can’t grow roots if you’re cut off.

Snake – “You underestimate my debtsssss.  I am beyond your control.”

Rational Brain where the hell are you?

Rational Brain – “I’m patiently waiting for you to stop talking to your multiple personalities so we can play Persona 5.”

Speaking of Persona 5, it’s about a group of high schoolers who’re able to enter into the metaverse and steal peoples hearts.  According to this video game developer, people become warped and distorted by desire.  The high schoolers don’t actually steal hearts, they steal peoples deepest desires – their most prized possessions.

But the developer got it wrong.  It’s not desires that warp people, it’s fear.  They should’ve made it “fears” they were stealing, not desires.  Desires are fleeting and nobody really knows what they want anyway.  Only self-actualized people know what they want and you don’t see many of them walking about these days.

If my desires got stolen right now, the Phantom Thieves would find a plate of cheesecake.  Or maybe rice pudding…..yes…..rice pudding.

Rational Brain – “You are such an old man!  Rice pudding?  Seriously?”

Snake – “I’m going to ssssteal the rice in your puddingssss.”

Really cold vanilla rice pudding, yum!

Rational Brain – “You want to know how to protect yourself from that snake?  Laugh at it, that’s how.  You have to be strong enough to laugh at your problems before they turn into demons and what I mean by strong, I mean have the courage to not be afraid of them.  Didn’t you already write about this a whole bunch?”

Yes, but I keep forgetting….

Snake – “And why do you think that issss?  Hmmm?  Tee hee hee.”

My true self is funny, sometimes uproariously so.  I made one of my therapists cry laughing yesterday – literally she was crying.  She needed a tissue.  And what I want in life is to truly be left in peace, so I can write a book.  And drink at bars.  And go to coffee shops and museums and hike the woods and see temples and mountains and eat LOADS of weird food.  To paint my pictures and play my games.

Rational Brain – “As long as you know what you want, you know who you are.  You are not your problems.  You like to make others happy, and you really do appreciate life.  That’s who you are.”

I can’t let this virus, this lawsuit change me.  I have to laugh at it.  No matter what happens, I have to believe I’ll be okay.

The business scored a 4.8 out of 5 stars from over 600 votes and we made almost $800 today.  Today I managed to pull an emotional 180 and hiked till I puked.

Rational Brain – “I’d say you had a lively day, now game time!”

Whew, yes.  Game time.


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The Second Day of April

Only 28 more days until emancipation.

My thoughts are still positive, I’m hanging in there.  Doing good.

I swear my good vibes have everything to do with my stupid fantasies while I massage clients.  I fantasized about Oprah today.  She was interviewing me about my number one best selling book and I told her that I’m voting for her in the next election.

This abnormal good mood has got me thinking…..

I’ve heard from several sources that the brain can’t tell the difference between fantasy and fiction.  Or rather, I should say the body can’t tell the difference.

i.e, If you fantasize about running, your legs get stronger.  Dream about hitting a home run, it becomes easier to do in real life.

What if….now just hear me out for a moment……what if nothing is real unless the body thinks it’s real.

If you tell your body “this is really happening”, your brain get’s flooded with hormones associated with the vision you’re having.  It’s basically like taking a happy pill, or in some cases, viagra.

I’m not sure if this works with depressed people who actually need pills though…..Some people are depressed because nothing makes them happy, they have no happy fantasies other than that of bringing people down, making them feel as shitty as they do.

But if a person is depressed because they have no down time to ponder and dream, well, I seriously think this will work for them.  It’s like a free therapy session.

And lately I’ve been averaging 3-4 therapy sessions a day.

People like to call this process “Creative Visualization” but all it really is, is delving into your fantasies, day dreaming.  The worst thing anyone can do is to complicate this with fancy words, write a book about it and tell you how to do it.

Bull.  Shit.

I don’t care who you are, everyone know’s how to fantasize.  Being able to anticipate what will happen next is probably the greatest asset to the human race.  Anticipate and plan, how else would we have made it this far?

We literally created this world, this society, with vision.  With fantasies.

Just think if the world were void of fantasies.  Nothing would be planned out, no considerations taken – we would live like animals, like beasts.  No imagining what it’s like to be in another mans shoes.  No dream homes or dream vacations.  No dreams.

No children playing house, or playing with toys, no pretend or make-believe, no books, no plays, no shows, no movies, no inspiration, no want’s – just needs.

Since when did wanting something become bad?  As opposed to need?  You can want money, tons of it, but when money becomes a need….need becomes greed.  I’ll write about that later, possibly a different post.  Too long to fit it here tonight.

I believe you should always want and never need.  “Need” breeds thoughts of lack, thoughts of fear.  It’s all perspective.

There’s got to be some kind of kinetic symbiosis, a synergy between mind and body, action and heart.  Believe and do.

Friggin’ fantasies man….

In other news…..

You remember my crazy aunt and OCD cousin?  Yeah well, they both moved to Tennessee to be closer to my aunt’s other son, the normal one, hoping he can share the burden of OCD cousin.  Perhaps finally getting the help he needs.  That was the plan at least.

Just as I suspected, her other son wasn’t much help.  Not only was he no help, but my aunt’s mind started slipping.

I knew this would happen.  Her “normal” son being too busy with his own life.  And I knew that OCD cousin would cling to my aunt like a wet nappy, eventually collapsing her wall of lies, driving her mad.

The apartment superintendent took on the role of orderly, my mom would call him to have him check in on her sister.

I’m talking about the woman who destroyed my life for nearly 10 years.  A woman whom I couldn’t even look at, let alone talk to.  Who called me names, lied about me, drained my fathers retirement fund, almost ruined his house…..ruined our happy home.

That woman is sitting upstairs as we speak.

With her mind gone, she remembers nothing of the past.  She bought me a Hershey’s candy bar and became so excited when it came time to hand it to me.

Mom – “She’s been holding onto it all day, bringing it everywhere.”

Aunt – “Here, I knew you’d like it.”  It looked like it had melted and solidified a few times over.  She handed it to me with the proud enthusiasm of a child.

I used to pity my aunt.  I felt sorry for her.  I felt sorry for her before she moved away and lost her mind.

There’s a difference between pity and compassion.  There’s a distasteful disconnect there – like a judgment, when you pity someone.

How am I supposed to judge my aunt now?  With her four missing front teeth and her feeble child-like mind?

When you’re unable to judge someone, you can’t pity them.

Where does judgement come from?

Rational Brain – “It’s a comparison between yourself and another person.  If you take pity on someone, you’re essentially placing yourself higher than the person you are judging.  Feeling better about yourself because you are not them.”

Notice how we don’t judge the mentally disabled?  The crippled?  The poor starving child?

We don’t judge them because we don’t blame them.

Why do we blame others?  Because they should know better?  They should help themselves?  God helps those who help themselves, after all.

Where does this blame, this anger and disgust come from?

I wrote in a past post that it comes from our own feelings of helplessness (I wrote a long post about it, I won’t get into tonight).  It means we have no power to change things.

We want to control, to manipulate.  But hopelessness stops that from happening.  It’s why we war.

As far as my aunt goes…..the past doesn’t matter anymore.

Impermanence is what’s real.  Nothing lasts forever.  People destroy themselves.  They either learn from their mistakes or are destroyed by them.

Opinions change, perspectives change.  But there remains one constant Truth.  The white and black wolves.  Blame and responsibility.  Cowardly versus bravery, wrong versus right.

Fantasies edge you closer to knowing the differences between these things.


It’s now April 7th.  My good mood has left the building.  It’s so far gone that I’m back at pitying my aunt, going as far to think that she’s faking her mental disability.

At least I never have to see her.

OCD cousin is still living in Tennessee, living alone with no car, no money or job.  He lives on disability checks.  I’m almost positive he’ll be kicked out of his apartment due to causing water damage of some sort.  My family unanimously agreed he’s no longer welcomed in this house.  His brother that lives in Tennessee with him has practically disowned him.

My good mood is gone in part due to exhaustion.  By massaging too much.  I tried to slip into my fantasy world while massaging, but my body didn’t agree to it.

Like I wrote before, nothing is real unless the body thinks it’s real.  And as of late, it screams exhaustion.  I couldn’t fantasize even if I tried.

Even worse, my exhaustion perpetuates itself with more exhaustion.  My fantasy world turned dark, resenting massage, resenting the lawsuit, feeling hopeless – and my body, being as tired as it is, agreed with it.  It screamed,  “Yes I’m fucking tired of it!”

This is the first day in a long while where I got to sleep in.  I only have two evening appointments.

I fully remember now why I don’t want to massage anymore.  I always seem to forget.

I think the worst will be over and done with by April 16th.  Most of the groupons will be either expired or redeemed by then.  Then I can retire myself and continue my initial plan of paying off my debt and saving for a house – not giving a second thought on the lawsuit since it’s out of my hands at this point.

I just have to make it until the 16th.

I’m so completely miserable.  So angry.  So annoyed.  How can this happen?  April 2nd, I felt fine.  I was peaceful and content with myself.  And now I’m evil incarnate.  And I can’t fight it, I can’t break it down to understand it.  I can’t beat it.

It’s like, will I always have to live with this feeling of unease?  I should know the answer to that is no.  Nothing is permanent.  Change is inevitable.

How can the answer be this simple…..that I’ve been massaging more, under a lot of stress from clients trying to book appointments last minute – how can it be that simple?  I’m having trouble believing that this feeling will be over in approximately 10 days.  It’s never been over, so why should I believe it now?

My demons will end up destroying me.  Just like they destroyed everyone who came before me.  My doubt, my fear.  I really hope I’m not lying to myself because I at least have that going for me.  If I am lying to myself, I’m a damn good liar.

I tell you what though, if Mollie and Melissa were here to take my clients, I would’ve run out of money weeks ago.  It’s weird how stuff like that keeps happening.  Horrible things that turn into good things.

When I was standing on the roof of that Hotel in Bangkok, I decided to just go for it.  To hire an aesthetician and add facials.  But I couldn’t buy facial products without having business insurance first.  The only reason why I had business insurance at that time was because of those damn facials and I’m thanking the stars and heavens now for having got it.

And I wouldn’t have moved my business as quickly as I did if it weren’t for the vandalous acts of one employee.  My business was failing at that old place and I was losing my head with having to wash sheets.

It’s like, my business would’ve failed ages ago if these horrible things/choices never transpired.  It’s nuts but it’s true!  Everything keeps righting itself.  And it rights itself by disasters.

I don’t believe in miracles, but I believe in disasters.  What if disasters are the miracles?  Ayahuasca said we only grow through suffering, so disasters make sense.  They especially make sense if they get you to your desired goal.


I just took a shower and I’m starting to feel better already.  Not as miserable as before.  I only have 2 clients today, not enough of them to exhaust me, and I have strength for some good old fashioned daydreaming.  But it all unravels tomorrow.  I’m fully booked and my receptionist doesn’t work on the weekend.  It’ll be misery through and through.

It’s weird though, how exhaustion can impact you like that.  It completely warps your thoughts.  Any little thing sets you off.  It’s no wonder why I want to be left alone, to get away.  I don’t want to be exhausted anymore.

According to the numbers yesterday, we have 108 signature couples massages that are not yet expired and 143 single person massages.  All will be expired by the end of this month, most of them before April 25th.

I guess I should publish this shit.

Either exhaustion warps my thoughts, or I really am bi-polar.  Either way, I think I have a handle on it.  As long as I have days like this, where I can sleep in and blog a little.

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About Me

It’s a rainy Friday afternoon.  I’m still laying in bed.  I slept until my receptionist woke me up with a text message at 11:30.  “I broke my thumb and need to leave early today.”

I decided not to worry about the impending lawsuit and just focus on my original plan of paying off my debt and retiring from massage.

I’m not in denial or anything, it’s just that, what else can I do?  It’s entirely out of my hands.  I feel I made the best decision by going to a lawyer and not my insurance companies, the rest is not up to me.

I’ll be able to pay off the $5000 I spent on my lawyer by April 20th.  That’s the plan at least.  And I’ll be back to my original debt amount like nothing happened.

I have about 160 signature couples massages left to be redeemed by the end of April.  The business is fully booked for the next 2 weeks.

But things are strange for me, more so than usual in my current situation.  I’m actually in a good, happy mood.

And here’s the kicker – having to massage people is the reason why I’m in a good mood.  I’ll get to the details in a moment.  For those of you who read my blog, you know how much I hate massaging people.

I’ve had tons of jobs in the past, the worst of them being Bloomingdales by Mail and having to take phone orders all day.  To me, it was the seventh circle of hell while to others, it was easy money.

Why is this?  Finding out why I hated that particular job so much was key into understanding my uniqueness, my quirks – what I want out of life and who I am.

I’m a thinker.  That’s all it comes down to.  I want my brain space, my true freedom.

It’s like when Andy came out of solitary confinement and he had that quiet smile on his face.  He told Red that he was listening to classical music the entire time.  “They can’t take my true freedom away, and that’s all up here.”  As he points to his head.

It’s exactly like that, the analogy can’t get any better.

Working at Bloomingdales, each phone call acted like a drip of Chinese water torture.  I was never able to “catch” myself before the next call came in.  My freedom, gone from me entirely.

I am a thinker.  Beyond normal measure if you compare me with those hundreds of thousands of people who answer phones all day and enjoy it (or at least, accept it).

I’m as big a thinker as you can get.  I think that’s why I hated doing homework so much – It taken up all of my head space.

Wait wait wait, hear me out.  I know I sound like a narcissistic prick, okay?  All high and mighty and shit.  But just listen.

Being a thinker is the reason behind everything that I am, and all that I do.  I understand all too well what Andy meant.  All too well.

I didn’t go to college mainly because I didn’t want to end up in a 9-5 career that I hated.  I don’t want a boyfriend or to have kids because it eats away at my head space, having close friends wanting to hang out all the time has always been a challenge too.

Every decision that I made, apparently sub-consciously I made these decisions, were all for the purpose of saving my head space, saving my one true liberty from being taken away from me.

How did I figure this out?  Yesterday, while I was massaging.

It made perfect sense, like a zing to my chest.  I LOVE thinking.

I’ve been massaging a lot more lately since I fired Melissa, my one employee who annoyed me to no end, and Mollie is still out sick with pityriasis rubra pilaris.  And during my massage sessions, I fantasize.  My fantasies are endless.  I hate waiting in-between clients, I count the seconds until my next client arrives so I can go there again, into my head.

But my thoughts are more powerful lately.  They have a hold on me.  With all that’s going on, it’s as if I’m “burying my head” with my own head – just to escape, to get away.

I’m letting go of worry, but what’s replacing it is a dazzling spectrum of color and possibilities.  I want to keep going back to it, back to my dreams where they become real.

My business is undoubtedly successful aside from this last remaining obstacle.  I believe the reason for my good mood is knowing that I did it.  I made a business that would sustain me without having to work.  I actually did it.  I’m one month away from it, but still….I’m so close.

I’ve been working my entire life waiting for this.  To reclaim my full brain space – to have all the freedoms my mind has to offer without the disruptions of worry, of debt, of being owned by someone or some thing.

What do I want to do with my life?  My free time?  I want to think.  I want to spend it on thinking, on solving problems and puzzles of my choosing.

Massage allows me the freedom to enjoy my head space like no other menial labor job can do.  The downside?  I hate massaging because that’s all that it allows for, unrealized dreams.  I resent massage for keeping me away from my real dreams.  And the act of massaging someone is boring.  If I didn’t have my thoughts, the boredom of massage will literally kill me one day.

But now that I’m this close to not having to give massages anymore, I don’t mind doing them.  My thoughts while giving massages are so encouraging and uplifting, that they are saving me from myself.

When I’m home, I have many distractions.  Whether it be my blog, audiobooks, naps, researching articles online, playing a video game (Yakuza 0), or binge-watching a new show I discovered (Homeland), I don’t have the mind space like I do when I massage people.

I resent the act of giving massages so much so, that I give myself no option but to think of the time beyond massage and what awaits me there.

This is deeply complicated to think about, but it’s without flaw.  Doing a job I hate is saving my life.  What do I mean by “life”?  Life is nothing to me if I can’t have my thoughts.  Massaging forces me into that space between my ears.  It forces me to remember what all this is for.  And why fighting for this business is important, not an ego thing, or a stubborn thing – it’s fighting for a freedom that I long for.

For the longest time I thought everyone was like me.  We all want passive income and to travel, to have fun.  But I swear I must take it on a whole new level.  The level that I take it on, to me, feels dangerously close to mental breakdown.  As it is with flying too close to anything.  But at the same time, I’m not hiding or limiting myself to anything.

It’s like, these aren’t just fanciful thoughts of whimsy, but more like an embodiment.  I AM everything that I want.  Who I am is congruent with my desires.  There’s no discord, no hypocrisies.

Outwardly I portray an innocent person, someone who I thought I’d grow out of with age.  But that innocence isn’t about being trusting, naive or stupid – the innocence that people see is in fact, truth.  I am nothing but.  I exemplify simplicity.  I am what I am.

And the truth is, who I am and what I want, I want to get the fuck away.  I want to sink into my head for months at a time.  I fantasize about living in an underground bunker.  My parents basement will do for now.

When I’m in work massaging people, I feel like I’m stepping closer to my goals.  When I’m home, like I am now, I don’t feel in control.  Like I’m missing something.  I’m not doing all that I should be doing.  I’m going to miss important calls or what if disaster strikes?  Whether it be the internet’s not working, employee’s late, clients not able to book, lagging behind schedule – mostly stupid shit but still.

In May, once the schedule clears, there will be less disasters.

Anyway, I should shower, eat, and head to work.  Tomorrow is April fools.  The beginning of my last month of massage.  It will be the busiest we faced in history, the hardest of them all.  My second to last obstacle, aside from the lawsuit which is sure to surpass all others.  My two remaining pitfalls.

I want to write once again about what ayahuasca told me all those years ago….that all of this isn’t real.  It’s all meaningless.  I need to let it all go and enjoy the ride, to have fun with it.  And to always do the courageous thing and not the cowardly thing.  That’s the only way to let things go.

When you take that advice to heart, it gives you perspective outside the box.  A perspective you’ll never obtain if you never connect with the emotions associated with it.

When none of it matters, only then you are free.

You become everything you wish to be.

If you can understand this, to be able to connect emotionally with it – you’ll see that it’s the key to everything.  When all else falls away, all you’re left with are desires.  Everything is based on desire.   But you have to let them go in order to gain everything.

Ayahuasca showed this to me.  The imagery was so precise, so complete.

You have to do things as if it doesn’t matter if you win or lose – it ultimately doesn’t matter either way.  But even if it doesn’t matter, wouldn’t you rather win?  That’s desire.  The desire you’re left with after all else falls away, but it’s a different kind of desire, more like choice.

To go further with that, deeper down the rabbit hole, ayahuasca told me that there is no such thing as hope or faith.  Either believe or don’t believe, do or die.  Every choice we make is steeped in karma, in fear.  We make these choices subconsciously and have no control over the outcome until we learn not to fear.  We learn not to fear when we learn to let go.

I really have to go, I’m gonna be late for work.

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