Category Archives: All about me

Commonalities

If you take away technology, take away clothes shopping, makeup, doing your hair nice….

If you take away all entertainment and hobbies from us…

What’s left that we have in common?

In the beginning, we had everything in common.  All we cared about was food, protection and shelter.  People found it easier to group together to attain these commonalities.

But now, what makes us group together?  When our basic needs are met?

It all comes down to similar interests.  When our basic needs are met, we can branch off into specialized nodes of activity.

But what if a persons basic needs go beyond food, protection and shelter?  What if they don’t feel settled and they can’t “branch off” until they also have freedom?

The price of food, protection, and shelter will always be freedom.

I feel feral.  Like I can’t be domesticated.

In the meantime, when everyone’s busy making babies and have bosses that feed them – grouping together with like-minds, going to church, throwing Mary Kay parties…getting lost in the grind, coping with sickness, crying over spilt milk….

I feel like I’m the only person in my vicinity who feels that freedom is a basic need.  And people hand over their health willfully in exchange for stressful circumstances that slowly eats away their vitality.  They choose these stressful circumstances in exchange for food, protection, and shelter.

And as a way to cope, they find addiction, money and/or power to quantify their existence.   To keep them in denial from their one basic unobtainable need, freedom.

Today is Monday, my day off.  I can’t remember the last time I had a day like today.  A day where I can sleep for as late as I want and continue doing nothing for the remainder.

I slept until 1:30 in the afternoon.  I slept to the point where I was half awake and half asleep.  Enjoying that in-between place where images are vivid yet you know they’re not real.  I stayed there until I absolutely had to pee.

But I work so hard, and I only have one life to live, it’s insane – I mean literally insane to not have any restful days and to not spend your one life exactly how you want to live it.

And it’s not even a true free day.  Not with a business to run…

I think I was a horrible person in a past life.  A dictator, or a medieval landlord.  Having people work for me so I don’t have to lift a finger.  Before that, I was a beaten housewife with a ton of kids.

At least, that’s what I hypothesize.  And if I’m right, than who am I in this life?  I’m on the run from any and all responsibility and I hate narcissists.  That’s who I am.

I told my landlord to add the new room to my rent.

I’m adding a new couple’s room to my massage business so I can sell more upgraded couples massages on Groupon.  I’ll have it by November 1st, the room.

I also hired 3 new people.  It sounds like a lot of people, but it’s really not.  One works on Fridays, another on Sundays, and the last works every other weekend.  All older ladies, a client favorite.

Once I start cranking out those couples massages on groupon, I’ll need to hire one more therapist to work Saturdays and weekday nights and once that happens, I’m done.  I’ll literally never have to massage another body for as long as I live.  I’d love to recite that as a marriage vow.

I feel like this is it, the beginning of the end of my battle.  I’ll try to hold off hiring that last person until my debt is paid.  That last person I hire might tip the scales into debt again, I have to be careful.  I’m now roughly $34,702 in the hole as opposed to $50,000 back on April 1st.

I hate the sound of text messages.  I hate the sound of phone calls.  I hate the sound of emails.  I shouldn’t hate these things.  I deep down love people and never in my right mind would I hate the sound of someone wanting to talk to me.

And since I’m so obsessed about finding my freedom, I can’t branch off into specialized nodes of interest.  I can’t learn the piano, I can’t even find time to exercise properly.  I can’t find time to write these days and writing means everything to me.

Anyway, I started writing this post because two of my friends decided that I should be Katniss Everdeen for Halloween.  They said I’m a natural Katniss.  I started writing this post with Katniss in mind, trying to figure out what it is I have in common with her.

I think it’s mostly me being a Tom boy and I won Massachusetts state champion youth division for archery when I was 12.  But it’s more than that, I just can’t put my finger on it.  And other people see it too, but they probably can’t put their finger on it either.

I’m writing this post to put my finger on it, but it’s not working.

I’d like to think it’s because she’s strong, stubborn, and fights for what she believes in, but it’s not that.

I hate to say it, but I can see myself in people – a lot of people.  People who have absolutely nothing in common with each other, have something in common with me.  I relate and empathize with mostly everyone, including made-up characters from movies and TV.  And because I empathize, I take on their traits.

That’s what it is.  That’s got to be it.  I try to think as clearly and as rationally as I can at all times, removing emotion and focusing on fact.  I learned this by writing.

Looking back and re-reading old stuff, I learned how crazy and transfixed I can be.  Writing taught me control and that control extends to all facets of my day to day life.  Say only what needs to be said, convey emotions that are relevant to the present situation, I should never focus on myself, but on others…..These are built-in gut reactions.  They are pure reactions.  But they are learned reactions.  I am a succinct categorist.

Maybe I’m more domesticated than I think.

But anyway, when I like what I see, when I’m being influenced by an idol (we all have idols), I want to become them.  Children do this better than anyone and I never grew up.

I’m a product of everything I like in others.  Unfortunately, every single idol I ever had was a fictional character.  These perfect people don’t exist in real life.

And I’m always pretending that I’m the living protagonist of a story.  Perfecting my character, watching her grow.  Always doing the right thing no matter what.

I guess that’s why my friends think of me as Katniss.  I’m like a character from a story-book.  I’m literally made-up fiction.  I wouldn’t know who I am if I didn’t write about me.

 

 

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Dreams

I keep having dreams about prison almost every single night for the last two weeks.  Before two weeks ago, I never had a prison dream, let alone any dream that appears almost every night.

I’m dreaming again because my current bedtime audiobook is the Tao Te Ching.  It’s only an hour and 43 minutes so it doesn’t last all night and into morning like my last audiobook did.  When the book ends, the dreams begin.

Usually the prison dreams are harmless.  All the characters from Orange is The New Black are there.  Red acts as my Mother and cares for me while all the prisoners are happy and don’t want to leave.  Almost like they forgot they’re in prison.  They only care about hooking up with each other and little else.  I was the only one that wanted to escape, which I did by the end of each dream.

The prison was actually a happy place but only because every one was preoccupied with hooking up.  There were rumors about prisoners wanting to hook up with me, but I ignored them and focused instead on breaking out.

All the prison dreams are like this.  All except last night when things turned dark.

The prison started out at as being a school.  I was in class trying to pay attention to the teacher when this one boy kept inching his desk closer and closer to me until he was right next to me shoulder to shoulder.

He had a crush on me and instead of me being flattered, I despised it.  I told myself to be nice to him so I don’t accidentally hurt his feelings.  “Just be nice Mel, keep you’re cool.”

But when he got to be shoulder to shoulder with me, I flew into a rage.  I pushed him and said “get the fuck off me!”.  Even though I specifically told myself not to do that, I couldn’t help myself.

That’s when the school turned into a prison but instead of it being a regular prison, it was more like a school.  The cells were classrooms.  I left the classroom to get away from that boy and plotted my escape once again but this time I wasn’t alone.

I had two friends with me.  A comical big fat black woman and a regular dude about my age, maybe a little younger.

We were caught trying to escape and sent to the disciplinary department which doubled as a shoe department.  The sadistic shoe maker gave us new shoes and as punishment for trying to flee, he nailed the shoes to my friends feet.  I was next in line to get the nails, but the shoe maker over looked me, saying that I wasn’t as much of an idiot as the other two I was with.

My friends could no longer run, but I could.  And so I did.

I ran through the school/prison and had to pee really bad.  I found the bathroom where all the stalls were, and the custodians were there working on a new toilet system involving tubes everywhere and the toilet I was to sit on was too high of a reach.  I was trying to climb up on the toilet when the dude I was with previously, the one who got the nails in his feet, busted in and said “Melanie!  What are you doing?!”  He was upset I wanted to leave the place.

“I’m trying to pee but the seat is too high.  I keep falling off.  Why are you in the women’s room?”

“I wanted to know how you like your hamburger.”

“My hamburger?  What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“I’ll just put ketchup on it.”

And he left to go fetch me a hamburger.  He was starting to like me and wanted to impress me with a hamburger, and because of that, he lost all coherence of being in a prison and instead focused on impressing me.

That’s when I woke up and really had to pee.

In real life, there’s a guy I hung out with about a month ago.  He’s an old friend who I haven’t hung out with in 18 years and he contacted me on Facebook.  I kept putting him off for maybe a month or two when finally I said screw it and met him for a drink at a bar/restaurant in walking distance from my house.

Since then, he’s called and texted me non-stop.  He called at 2:30AM last night when I had to wake up at 7AM.  I was pissed.  So pissed that I almost flew into a rage like in my dream.  But instead, I calmed myself and put him under the Do Not Disturb option on my phone.

I’m pretty sure the dreams started because of him.  I told him how I feel relationships are like a prison.  People focus on relationships instead of trying to break out of their bleak working lives.  And since then, the prison dreams are relentless.

But they make sense to me.  The perfect analogy.  But I’m not sitting around all day thinking about it, the only time I remember thinking about it was with that guy I hung out with.  So it’s perplexing that I’m dreaming of prison this often when I never think about it in waking life.

Maybe they’ll stop now.  Now that I’ve written about it.

I was also scared about getting sued because the window of opportunity of that happening was inching down.  The prison dreams may have also stemmed from that as well.

**********************************

On May 20th I wrote a detailed plan for my business.

img_3839

Okay, so not very detailed, but the plan is still a go.

July and August I found myself with having one or two clients a day.  I lounged around watching bad sci-fi movies on Netflix and worried about my productivity.

“What if I’m like this when I don’t have to work at all anymore?  Just laying around doing nothing?”

But then from the grace of god, I found myself with 5 days off in a row in late August.  Not a single client.  During these five days, I practiced the piano, went to Rhode Island and stayed over night (the first time this year), devised a new member client system, went hiking twice (the first time this year), hung out with valued friends.

I can’t remember the last time I had 5 days off in a row (besides taking trips).  And during these 5 days I realized that I’m not as lazy as I think.  Everything I wanted to do, everything that I put off, I did in those 5 days.  All the while, worrying about my business.  If the phone is being answered and if clients are happy – I was tethered to the business and couldn’t fully relax.  Same thing happened when I went to Alaska.  Impending doom circled my head like a halo.

But then my employee cut her hours and I’m back at it again.  Massaging 3 or 4 clients a day.  I feel relieved that I’m there overseeing everything, but miserable that I have to massage again.  I’m relieved too that I can squirrel away even more cash to pay off my debt, but miserable that this tirade of struggle seems to go on and on.

I feel really close this time though.  Just a few more months until freedom.  But I’m struggling with the first leg of my plan, paying off at least one of my bills to free up money needed to afford the extra massage room.  I can afford it now, but that’s going against the plan.  It’s jumping the gun.  Bad things happen when I do that.

I have no choice but to wait until one bill is paid off.  The suspense of how my plan will turn out is killing me.

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My newest fantasy while massaging people is that of my cross-country adventure.  I decided not to go with a motorcycle, but a moped instead.  You can ride a moped anywhere and if the engine breaks down or I run out of gas, I can peddle the damn thing.  I can freely ride the cross-country bicycle trails.  That’s the main reason for wanting a moped.  I even picked out the bike I want.

Going cross-country on a highway, in my opinion, would be a shit time and the point of this expedition will turn into a destination trip and not a site seeing journey taken through winding roads through quaint towns.  Sticking with the bicycle trail is imperative.  Plus I don’t need to rely on navigating while following the path, it’s like walking the Camino.

motoped

It’s called the Survival Motoped and it’s meant to withstand the zombie apocalypse.  I can order it and put it together myself, or buy it already put together.  A very big part of me wants to buy it right now and put it together so I’ll have it ready by the time of my trip.  But that goes way against my plan.

If I put it together myself, learn how to put the engine together, the frame, the spokes, it reminds me of the book Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance.  I can repair it myself if it starts acting up and I learn appreciation and self-efficiency.

One night, not too long ago, while watching Netflix and eating some delicious take-out, I picked out the attire that will accompany me on my trip.

A pair of protective motorcycle blue jeans, a leather motorcycle jacket with zippered vents for the summer, protective motorcycle boots and a half helmet.  They say to wear a full helmet with this bike along with full motorcycle protective gear, but wearing full armor on a moped looks ridiculous.  Plus I’m scared a full helmet will obscure my peripherals.

jacket

boots

And for the undershirt, I’m going with Ably.  Supposedly I can wear it everyday without having to wash it.  I pre-ordered one and it’s supposed to come sometime this month.

shirt

The Survival Motoped costs more than a Honda Grom, the original bike I wanted to go with.  But you can literally drive it anywhere and it has the same amount of CC’s as the grom, goes just as fast.  Has more storage space.  And I love the idea that I can peddle it if anything were to happen to the motor.

And it’s a zombie apocalypse inspired bike!

I’m worried about two obstacles in my way of the trip.

ONE:  Not paying off my debt in time and TWO, not being able to afford a receptionist.

I NEED a receptionist.  Without a receptionist, I’ll carry with me an impeding halo of doom.

Without a receptionist, I’ll have to wait yet another year to take my trip.  Let the seasons circle around again.  We only have 80 or so cycles of these seasons and I’m already going on number 37!

*********************************

Today is Monday, my day off.  I don’t feel like doing shit.  In fact, I want to go back to sleep.  I started writing this post as soon as I woke up from my dream so not to forget it a few hours later.

And the thing with relationships being a prison, I’m not that bad when it comes to them.  Knowing that someone is out there waiting for me is comforting, but I know exactly what I want in life.  I know exactly who I am because I know what I want in life.  And I know for certain I’m prone to distraction and letting years slip by while toiling in the slog of life’s interruptions.

Not knowing or finding a paid profession that I’m in love with, makes it hard for people like me.  People who get bored after a while, who hate being told what to do.  I’m curious about everything, but not enough to spend thousands of dollars and years of my life going to school learning about something that I might get bored with and feel trapped in like a hen in Animal Farm.  The drama, the hierarchy, the scandals.

If I go back to school, it won’t be for the purpose of finding a job when I’m done.  It’ll be to continue where the professor left off.  For further research and discovery and not because I’m being paid for it.

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Did you know there’s a rare disease (only 100 known cases) where your brain is unable to sleep?  It’s not regular insomnia, it’s an actual brain malfunction where it loses the ability entirely.  It’s called Fatal Famillial insomnia.  It’s mostly genetic, but the protein can also be passed on via body fluids or eating something tainted with it.  Like Mad Cow meat.  You can get it at any age even if you were born with it, you won’t know you have it until decades later.

Once it starts, you have 18 months to live.  You live with anxiety, paranoia, hallucinations and then finally dementia.  Basically it takes approximately 18 months of no sleep to kill you.

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It may be my day off, but it’s also my parents anniversary (45 years) so we’re going out to eat.  I bought them an Acer laptop for their gift.  They both love it.  My Dad cruises Amazon looking at crossbows and my Mom plays her free online slot games and forwards chain emails to all her cousins.  Last night I introduced her to YouTube, my personal favorite.

It’s almost payday so I have to go to work and pick up everyone’s pay sheets to send in.

 

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Shanked with Sunshine

I have somewhat of an obsessive personality but I never thought of it as that.  I always thought it was a superhuman ability to focus really well.

I have the ability to sit and stare at my debt chart for hours at a time just looking at it.  And while I sit and look, I fantasize.  I fantasize of what it would feel like once I pay off my big bill, or what it would feel like once I pay off my big bill and that other smaller one next to it.  How would it feel?  Would I feel different?  Be a different person?

And once everything is paid off, what then?

There’s a million dollar commercial property that I want.  It consists of 3 historic buildings, one of which houses our towns favorite ice-cream parlor for the last 30 years.

It’s okay to say Ice-cream parlor but it’s not okay to say massage parlor.  Pfff….semantics.

I want to put my bar/coffee/tappa’s cafe in the middle building.  It’s the perfect place.  And collect rent on the other 3 shops on the property.  The locksmith, the frame shop and ice-cream parlor.

I sit and I stare at my debt chart while fantasizing about this.  I can do this for any length of time.  I do it until something else pulls me away.  Like the bathroom, or my stomach, or I can’t keep my eyes open.

I’m now $36,400 in debt.  This month I hope to pay off $3,000 of it.  But it’s killing me.  This is torture.  Even if I pay off $3000 (which is a ton of freaking money!), I’ll still be $33,000 in debt.  It’s like a drop in the bucket.  $3000 is a mere drop in the bucket while it feels like gallons in my pants.  Truth be told, I probably can’t pay $3000 this month.

In the meantime, the 300 couple’s massages I sold on Groupon are almost all redeemed.  So I’ve been laying around a lot lately with my brothers dog.  We watch bad science fiction movies on Netflix which some of them turn out to be really good.  When we’re done watching one of them, the credits roll and Netflix challenges us to watch 3 more bad sci-fi movies.  I accept your challenge Netflix.

Me and my brothers dog watched almost all of the sci-fi movie category.  All that remains are the sharknado movies and the one about the really big Spider, what’s it called?  Oh yeah, Big Ass Spider.

I have a client today at 6:30pm.  I have my period, blah.  It’s freaking hot out today.

My therapist just told me she doesn’t think her friend will be able to work for me in the fall because now she’s getting married and plans are changing.

She was an integral part of my plan, so that sucks.

A while ago the I-Ching foretold something shitty was going to happen to me in August.  I’m trying to lay low this month, not do much.  I don’t want to spend any money anyway.  It’s already the 11th, so just a few more weeks and I’ll be free of the bad juju.

The man who ruined my business last year, his trial is on the 26th.  I think it’s his ultimate trial.  If that date comes and goes with me coasting through it without being contacted, it’s all peaches and cream from here on out.  They definitely can’t sue me once September comes.  I love the statute of limitations clause.  Thank the glory of Gods for that one I tell ya.

I woke up today with a dark cloud over my head and I don’t know why.  Things are going near perfect lately.  I mean seriously, everything is going fantastic.  Even the Melanie Haters are not hating me anymore and inviting me places and talking to me.  It’s a real brain bender.  And the business is clean and well stocked, the client/therapist ratio is spot on so everyone is booked but not over booked.  Clients are happy.  I’m making money.  I’m also laying around a great deal…..but……

Shit man, I don’t know what it is.  Maybe it’s my period.  Maybe it’s Anthony’s trial, maybe it’s my debt or my semi-ruined plans for the fall.

It’s a culmination of everything.  It’s the promise I made to myself to not retire from massage until I pay off my debt.  It’s the unknown variables when owning a business, if employee’s quit, if clients leave horrible reviews.  It’s the unknown variables in life in general, that anything can happen.

When things are going good, I feel more scared than when they are bad.  I’m pre-disposed to deep down misery, but my deep down misery is being shanked with sunshine.  I say deep down because nobody can see it on the outside.  I’m a happy optimist-go-lucky on the outside.  My misery grounds me and keeps me stable.  It’s what spurs my dry humor. I’m equally miserable as I am happy and I like it that way.  I’d be miserable if not for misery.

Where does my misery come from?  Taxes, not being free, having to work hard only to die in the end, you know, the norm.

But I feel so grateful.  Insanely grateful.  I kiss the walls of my business every time I leave it at night.  I kiss the damn walls and say “I love you”!

You have no idea how much has changed since I moved the business.  The place is nearly perfect in every way.  My future has never looked brighter or more promising.

I wish I can tell you more so you’d understand.  The cement in my chest is gone.  But if I write about it, it just sounds like bullshit.

I wonder if by me being half miserable, I get my gratefulness from that?

Anyway, enough about me, let’s talk about you.  Oh yeah, I’m basically talking to myself here.

Rational Brain – “No you’re not, I’m here.”

And what do you have to say?

Rational Brain – “Go to sleep.  Do NOT watch Ip Man: The Final Fight.  GO TO SLEEP.  Its almost 12:30 in the morning!”

Just five minutes, please?  Then I’ll sleep. It helps me sleep.

Rational Brain – “You’re incorrigible.”

It’s so hard to want to sleep.  Nobody’s calling, emailing, texting.  No clients to massage.  If the only real currency is time, I feel I’m rich with it at night and it’s all mine to do as I please.  I’m horribly selfish with time.

I wonder if all night owls are selfish with their time?  People who don’t want to work, don’t want to have kids or a relationship, I wonder if they love night as much as I do.  This doesn’t pertain to insomniacs who can’t sleep, but to people who don’t want to sleep.  They’d rather solve puzzles, read books, write…etc.

I’m going to name my bar My Time since it’s really the only currency there is.

It’s supposed to be a phase in life, to go to bed late and wake up late.  It’s part of young adulthood.  I read an article about it.  It starts shifting back to normal once you’re in your 30’s, back to when you were a kid who got up early.

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It’s a few days later.

I slept a lot.  A lot a lot.  I went to bed at 8PM, woke up at 12:30AM, went back to sleep at 1:30AM and woke up at 12PM and here I am laying in bed on my day off.  A beautiful wondrous day off.

I’m about to watch a documentary called Flat Earth on YouTube.  I have no idea what it is, but supposedly Bruce Lee knew about it’s secrets and that’s where he got his power from.

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Another OBE

I just want to write real quick about the OBE I had a few days ago.

It started out as a regular dream.  I was laying down on a wooden floor in front of a fireplace, incredibly tired and just wanted to sleep.  My “parents” were there sitting on the couch.  “Parents” is in quotes because they weren’t my actual parents in real life, but in my dream these strangers were most definitely my parents.  We just moved into a new house and I had my own bedroom, but I fell asleep on the floor in the living room because my bedroom felt lonely and didn’t feel like “home” to me.

Parents – “Why don’t you sleep in your room?”

Me – “I’m too tired…..I don’t want to……”

And I was incredibly tired and half asleep.  The wood floor felt hard, but warm in front of the fireplace and I was comfortable and felt safe.

My “dad” picked me up and placed me on the couch.

This feels like it actually happened, in a past life or something.

And then I woke up at a retreat center for video gamers.  People who wanted to get away and play video games all day, but the games they had were old and sucked.  Paperboy was one of them, a nintendo game from the 1980’s.

I sat on the floor with two of my friends, two boys and a girl with punkish pink hair.  One of the boys said that if I was a soda flavor, I wouldn’t taste good.  That’s when I became lucid and realized what he said didn’t make any sense.

Me – “I wouldn’t taste good if I was soda?”

Him – “No way.”  And he started laughing.

The 3 young people seemed extremely familiar to me, like I knew them personally from other dreams.  I was completely lucid but felt like I met these three over and over again, and also been to that same video game retreat center repeatedly.

Me – “I know you!  You were in other dreams I had.  Do you remember me?”

They all shook their heads.  “We don’t know you.”

They got up to leave, visibly miffed by my comment.

The girl – “We never dreamt of you dude.”

I was irritated and confused.  Confused that those people and that place seemed so familiar.  I stood up and said, “look!  This is a dream!”  And started flying around the room.  I learned how to fly from previous lucid dreams and it’s not as easy as it sounds.  It’s pure will power.

Then I flew out of the building and was surrounded by darkness.  Not evil, just cloudy and I was losing lucidity.

Me – “This dream sucks, I better wake myself up or I’ll never get any rest.”

I opened my “eyes” and was outside my house in my backyard.

I specifically remember opening my eyes, it’s such a strange experience when this happens.  It’s the second time this happened, when I think I’m opening my real eyes only to open my celestial eyes.  I was out of body.  I could feel the dampness in the air, the wind on my face.  I looked down and saw a holographic computer screen hovering in front of me.  It was long and rectangular.  So bright.  All around me was dark, because of night.  But the screen was so bright.  I blinked a few times just to be sure of what I was looking at.  A perfect rectangle of light surrounded by the dead of night.

“Well, this is new.”

Yep definitely a computer screen.  It had images on it, but I couldn’t comprehend any of it or see it clearly.  I was too much in awe, or in shock to understand it.

Then I realized that I was “holding” the screen in-between my hands.  Like it was such a natural and intuitive impulse, to put my hands out as if I were to clap really loud, but instead, conjure up an astral computer screen.  If I narrowed or widened the length in-between my hands, the screen would stretch or narrow.

“Whoa.”

This all happened moments after opening my celestial eyes and then I heard a voice.

Voice – “Michael.”

Then a pause.

Me thinking – “Well, that’s new too.  I never heard a voice before.  Maybe I’m being called on a mission?”

I looked down at the computer screen thinking it would give me instruction.  Is Michael in trouble and I have to save him?

Then the voice started talking again, clearly as plain as day.  That’s when I realized it wasn’t a voice from a spirit guide, but my audiobook!  I could hear it so vividly.  I can’t hear anything while I’m having a regular dream, or a lucid dream.  My auditory senses get cut-off completely but while out of body, I can hear everything clear as day.

Me – “Huh, interesting.”

Not that that little bit of info will ever apply to me in waking life, but yeah.  While having an out of body experience, you can hear everything going on around your sleeping body.

I was let down because I really thought I was being called out on my first mission to save somebody.  I was amped up for it and ready to go, but no.  The audiobook ended up bringing me back to my bedroom in my body and the experience was over.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking.  That I’m completely off my rocker.  Something is seriously wrong with my brain.  But I swear I’m as normal as they come other than fear of commitment.

The girl I fired the other day, she has serious mental problems.  She twitches, squints her eyes quickly, talks loud and is argumentative, defensive.  Can you get a visual of the type I’m talking about?  Or is she too rare of a breed to be like any other?

Anyway, she’s the only person I know who has legitimate mental issues and so I asked her a few weeks ago if she ever had a lucid dream.  I wanted to know if there’s a correlation between emotional imbalances and fucked up dream experiences.

Her – “I dream of my teeth falling out all the time, it’s sort of like a lucid dream.”

Me – “Have you ever had auditory hallucinations?  Do you hear things when you fall asleep that aren’t there?”

I forgot what she said (this happened weeks ago), but the answer was no.  At least, not comparable to what I’ve experienced.

Me – “Have you ever had an out of body experience?”

Her – “Not that I know of.”

She’s the craziest person I know, but she hasn’t experienced what I have.

My blog is getting full of this shit.  I’m almost to the point of being embarrassed by it.  No no, I AM at the point of being embarrassed by it.  I don’t talk about it to anyone outside my blog.  And I’m the type who NEVER gets embarrassed.  Or at least, I’m not easily.  That’s why I dance and sing the way I do.  But this…..this embarrasses me.

And I can’t stop this crazy new notion that I have.  This idea, becoming solidified into an actual belief, that my thoughts impact EVERYTHING.

I’ve written about it before – loads in fact.  That thoughts have a profound impact on reality.  But it was only thoughts and idea’s, nothing substantial.

I have no clients today.  It’s wonderful.  And I want to write about this so bad, all this garbage inside my head – where do I start?  But I also hate writing long rambling posts.  Posts where I transfix and lose my rationality.  Those posts embarrass me more than anything, more than my out of body experiences.

I’ve experienced, several times now, that we are the universe.  I hit that high point of moksha, the point where you understand everything – I hit it a few times while ingesting powerful psychedelics, and once from simple meditation before falling asleep.

When I was a high schooler, keeping a journal, I made it my mission to find out exactly who I am.  I peeled layer after layer, but it was like an onion.  I found no pit at the center.

Me thinking – “Maybe if I’m as honest as I possibly can be, than I can know myself?”

So I wrote as honestly and as candidly as I could muster and realized my true self can only be found in my intentions, and digging even deeper, intentions can be found in desires.  I came to the conclusion that there is no “me”, only what I desire.

I learned about buddhism soon after that.  I learned that buddhism teaches you how to let go of desire.

Me – “Than there wouldn’t be any “me” left!”

I understood this, and didn’t understand it at the same time.  I understood the impossibility of it.

Me – “If I desire not having desires, I hit a brick wall.”

It has to happen by accident, just like anything in life.  You have to let it go before it actually comes to you.  Ayahuasca kept repeating this over and over to me.

But why?  How?

Without desire, we learn that we are in fact, the universe.  Without the “me” that separates us from it (our one true veil), we’re able to see reality and not delusion.

I read an article about a man who thought he was going to die.  He was at war, his shelter was about to get bombed.  He accepted death and in doing so, experienced moksha.  He saw his life flash before his eyes and with complete clarity, seen how and why he ended up at there at that exact point.  All his doing, all his choice, subconsciously his making.  He experienced himself as the universe – he unknowingly directed his path.

Desiring life is the biggest desire we can not overcome, no matter how suicidal.  The only way out of it is through acceptance, just as that man did when he accepted death.

We desire because we fear and our only one fear is that of death, all other fears stem from it.  We stop desiring when we stop being afraid to die.

Suicidal people have always fascinated me.  Any of us are free to kill ourselves anytime we want, no big deal.  Just opt out of this life.  You’ll be forgotten just like 99.99% of everyone else who ever lived, so why should it matter?  So if it doesn’t matter, why not live?  I mean, since we’re all going to die at some point anyway, why not ride it out to see what happens?

When I look at it from this view, suicide seems irrational, illogical.  It seems silly like a child throwing a tantrum.  I’ve always viewed it like this and I think that’s why I don’t take anything seriously because, well, who the fuck cares, right?  What does it matter?  I mean really.

Suicidal people have trouble accepting things.  When they try to control, fix, or change something, they only get themselves in deeper.  It’s karma.  When doing things out of fear, you dig yourself deeper.  Just like what happened with my business.

If we believe we can fix something, there wouldn’t be any fear of it.  We just do it and that’s that.  It’s a test, like Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey.  How far can you push yourself?  How much do you believe in yourself?  How far are you willing to go?

Finding your story is incredibly cathartic, I’ll save that for another post.  We should all know our story.

Anyway, where was I?

When I was just learning about this, I may have still been in high school, I don’t remember, but I thought if I purified my desires, I can be a good person.  If I kept my intentions at a healthy level of care and respect for others, I’ll be okay in life.  But then I dug deeper.  Why do I want to be good?  To be better than everyone else?  To obtain admiration?

It’s like organized religion.  Finding a way to one-up the next guy as a show of being more “tolerant” or more “forgiving” than any other organized belief system.  And it’s not even a belief system, not really.  People of organized religion don’t believe in god, they have faith in him and imo, faith ain’t worth shit.  That’s why I love the Jews.  They’re instructed to actually believe.

My saintly decision to be “good” was a sterile systematic approach to place myself higher than everyone else.  Like my shit don’t stink.  I was playing to the tune of my own organized religion.

That’s when I decided I had enough.  I stopped digging.  It was fruitless.  I hit a brick wall because of the impossibility of always having sheisty ulterior motives.  I couldn’t get over myself and my need to be the best, my need to control everything simply because I am the best/better than my counterparts.

Because as long as I was the best, I could control my level of fear.  I was emotionally stable because I was able to control my fear level and I did it through thinking that I was the best around.

 

***********************

It’s now the next day.  I had to end that post because I got a call from work telling me I had a client scheduled at 1:00 and it was already 1:10.  I stripped off my sweaty PJ’s, flung on pants and shirt and literally, I was there at work in 6 minutes flat.

Me – “I didn’t know I had a client.”

Employee – “She booked it this morning and I forgot to tell you.”

Me -“I’m still wearing yesterday’s underwear.”

Employee starts laughing.

My client, when she was laying on the massage table – “Do you do reiki?”

Me – “I don’t, I’m not much of a follower in it but I know a woman who does it.  She comes here and takes clients.  It’s the same price as a massage.”

Client – “That’s strange because I sense you’re more than a massage therapist.  There’s something about you.”

I swear to god, I’m not making this shit up.  She actually said that.

Me – “I’m a believer in other things.  I kind of suffer from out of body experiences.”

Client – “Me too!  This sounds weird but once I thought I was flying down a worm tunnel.”

Me – “Oh yeah, I went down a few of those too.”

Before I went in to massage her, I was feeling nuts.  I needed to feel normal again by talking to someone with similar experiences and guess what happened?  6 minutes later, I was massaging a lady who didn’t think I was crazy.

This is just one small example of how my thoughts been effecting things lately.

A few weeks ago, the toilet at work exploded.  Well, it didn’t explode, but the tank cracked right down the center and it happened at night when nobody was there.  So the damn thing was running for probably 8 hours before my employee walked in and seen the mess.  There was about 2 inches of water on the bathroom floor and it leaked into one of the massage rooms completely soaking it thru and thru.

I was at the eye doctor when this happened, sitting in the waiting room waiting to get called in.

Employee – “It’s flooded in here!  It’s a complete flood!”

I asked her to take pictures and send them to me, I asked if it smelled, if she can turn off the valve…etc.  I kept my shit together and called my Dad.  He just so happens to have a wet-vac.     We got everything cleaned up and next thing I knew, I was staring down the bowl of a brand new toilet.  I was praying for a new toilet!  The old one was stained and gross.

Me thinking – “I kind of want this thing to break.  How the hell can a toilet break though?”

If it broke, it would come out of my landlords pocket.  Not mine.

And that’s just what happened.  The day before the explosion, I scrubbed it clean and dropped one of those blue 1000 flushes in the tank wishing the damn thing would bust because it still looked dirty.

My esthetician, I prayed she’d get another job and last month she did just that.  Now she’s only here one day a week, if that.  But that’s hardly considered anything special since it was bound to happen.

I wished one of my therapists to work more so I wouldn’t have to rely on crazy Cara, and lo’ and behold…..

I wished Cara gave me a good reason to fire her, and she did.  She bitched out two of my employee’s before I fired her, which I didn’t even know about until yesterday.

I feel like if I don’t “need” something, if I don’t have a sticky attachment to whatever it is I’m griping about and instead just ride it out and soldier on, shit unfurls on its own.  But it’s happening expeditiously as of late.

I wrote my master plan, remember?  The one I took a picture of and posted?  Yeah well, part of the plan was to hire another therapist by October to help with those upgraded couples massages I want to sell again.  But it’s hard finding decent therapists to work as independent contractors.  Anyway, one of my IC’s is friends with an outstanding therapist who’s looking to move here and find a new job, can you guess which month?  October.  She’s going to start working here in October.  Just as I planned!

I can go on and on with this stuff…..the more I think about it, the more coincidences I can write about.  But I’ll stop here.

I just binge watched Orange is the New Black.  I watched 7 episodes all in one sitting, but I started watching it at 9:30 at night.  You can imagine what time it is now.  But it doesn’t matter.  In a few days I’ll be suffering from jet-lag.  I’m going to the forest festival in Anchorage to celebrate the fourth of July.  I leave on Wednesday and today is Monday morning.  Well, more like I leave tomorrow night, really really late tomorrow night.

I’m bringing my laptop, screw it.

Damn, what else did I want to write?

In my video game, The Witcher 3, there’s an old man sitting on the side of a trodden path that says, “Where’s your road wend?”

 

Damn, I want to write more about attachment and desire.  If I don’t write about it now, I’ll forget.  But I’m so freaking tired!

I’ll just write real quick that no, you can’t let go of all desire.  Not unless you devote your life to meditation or do psychedelics until moksha pours itself in to cement.  According to ayahuasca, it’s impossible to maintain this state for long.

But……you can let go of the things you can.  Even just a little bit of it, let it go.  And keep letting more go bit by bit.

Desire is not attachment, they come and go like cravings.  Attachment is when things get sticky.  The stuff that defines you and can’t live without.

Bit by bit, I’ve stripped myself of all fear about losing my business.  It’s not going to happen, not ever.  And that’s that.  And if it does, I start anew.  A tiring long road?  Possibly yes.  But it’s more tiring living in fear than it is to keep getting back up.

This is a state of mind that I trained for, it doesn’t come naturally or easy.  Severe worry and anxiety can break you into it.

 

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Out of Fear Arises Love

I’m farting around on the internet trying to find others who’ve experienced the “oneness” I felt while tripping on pot taffy a few days ago, and I stumbled on Ram Dass’s article The Entrance to Oneness.

I skimmed it, but it doesn’t come close to what I experienced.  It explains none of it.  He talks about unconditional love, which I experienced while I had a semi-lucid nap at my old stink hole office laying on top of my massage table and yeah, he’s right on that.  But what about the shared soul?  What about all of us being God?

The thing about love is, we love because we fear.  We wouldn’t have any need for love if fear didn’t exist.

This is from one of my taffy insights (read last post).

It’s a cycle really, a loop.

When we fear something, like an infant, we cling to what will protect us.  And because we depend on and believe in the thing protecting us, we love it.  We need it.  The more we fear, the more we love.

I should say, the more we fear, the more we need love.  And if no one loves you, you love no one because it’s not reciprocated.  Because you get nothing from it.  But you still want to be loved, you just don’t know what it is.  Ram Dass talks about this, but I gleaned over the article so maybe I got it wrong, I don’t know.

But anyway, love is just as much an illusion as fear itself.  They are two opposing sides of the same coin.

BUT…..

When you experience “oneness”, it’s like there’s no need for love or fear.  Everything is exactly as it should be.  It all fits.  Evil is only unawareness, unbelieving. It’s the glass cup I wrote about in my last post.

The closest I ever came to god’s presence was when I was 18 years old and had an out of body experience where I ended up surrounded by white light.  The light didn’t originate from anywhere, it wasn’t brighter in one spot and dark in another, it was like I was standing inside a blank screen like what happened to Neo in the Matrix, only it wasn’t blank.  It was light.  So hard to explain this light!

And what I felt wasn’t love.  I felt an incredible power, so overwhelmingly intimidating that I had no choice but to capitulate to it.  Resistance was futile.

Aside from that….

For me personally, love is protection.  The more I love someone, the more I want to protect them.  I want to protect them so they don’t feel alone which means in some weird roundabout way, I too want to be protected.  As a defense against loneliness.  It’s a subconscious belief.  A belief engrained in me from having good parents.

If someone causes me harm, a close friend for instance, out of spite or jealousy or just to enjoy seeing me suffer, to gain power and control over me, I feel like that person doesn’t love me.  I can’t wrap my head around it.  Why would they do that?

 

So to me, love equates to protection.  But it’s not just me, I witnessed this in many of the guys I dated.  Many of them had this feeling also, that they had to protect me somehow.  I guess it’s instinct?  Of course it’s instinct.  Even the guys I don’t date feel the need to protect me.  And yes, I do enjoy it.

But some guys don’t have this instinct.  It’s more like the opposite, they want to protect themselves.

 

Is love the same as trust?  No, I don’t think so.  You can love a little kid, but not trust them.  But I wrote a while back that you can’t love anyone unless you trust yourself.  Which is totally true and I still stand by it, but I’m not getting into that again.

Love is needed to defeat fear, but once you become dependent on it, once you feel that you can’t live without it or face the world alone, that’s when fear swallows you back up.  More so than if you never knew love at all.  The bigger they are, the harder they fall sort of thing.

That’s why it’s important for me to write.  So I can always remember.  That’s why I did ayahuasca, smoked a little herb.  To loosen this attachment to love since all things are impermanent.  And to be able to stand alone.  It’s basically been my life’s mission to be strong enough to stand alone, without a life raft or the veils to shield me.

I’m definitely not there yet.  But once I am, I’ll settle down (maybe).

If I don’t need love, I can give it more freely.  Like the unconditional kind of love that Ram Dass talks about.  For me personally, it’ll always come in the form of protection.

Oh shit, I completely missed the point of why I wanted to write this post.  It’s about that Ram Dass article.  He told a story of how being in the presence of his teacher, Maharaj-ji, he felt nothing but pure love.  Not just him, but everyone surrounding him felt his love.

According to my psychedelic taffy insight, there is no truth.  To be more specific, “the only truth is that there is no truth”.  Maharaj-ji beliefs were so over-powering, that he psychically altered his students mind-states with his own.  He created his truth, which happens to obliterate all fear so others can see clearly.

It’s not about love, it’s about the absence of fear.  It reminds me of a post I written a while back, There Is No Snake.

Since we are all connected, all one, all gee-oh-dee, we are the creators of this world so who ever has the strongest belief, can influence change.  It’s not about faith, it’s about actual belief. Feeling, not thinking.  Definitely not thinking.

Oh god it’s late….Or should I say, “Oh me it’s late.”  Or, “Oh you it’s late?”

Instead of saying “Oh my god”, we should say, “Oh my us.”

Shit, I’m really losing my mind now.

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A Day Off…..Finally

Today marks the first day off I had in a very long time since I started selling Groupons again.  I have about 50 more to sell, and we already redeemed 112 or so out of 300 which puts me in an excellent position financially for not only paying off one of my whopper loan debts, but for the end of next month when my employee’s get paid 3 times instead of two.

I have in all truth and honesty, saved my business.  You’d know what I’m talking about if you saw my bank account a few months ago which contained a meager $200.

My mind is blown, totally.  How the hell, wha…..200 &*% dollars?!!  How did I remain so calm?

I managed to pay off $12,000 in the course of these last 2 months and that one loan that automatically takes out $54.50 out of my checking account EVERY DAY is no more.  Which means I can now survive even without the help of groupon.

I am officially out of hot water, but the pots still boiling.  A slow simmer is where I’m at.  With my debt I mean.  There’s still quite a bit of it left to pay off and Groupon checks will stop coming once those last 50 couples massages are sold.

Here’s my plan:

img_3839

Okay, so I didn’t go to business planning school, but this can work.  I showed it to Dave.

Dave – “It looks like you put a lot of thought into it.”

Me – “I sure did!”

Dave – “What’s that you’re watching in the background?”

Me – “I bought the Back to the Future video game when I was at the mall getting my phone fixed.”

I dropped my phone not once, but twice in one night.  It was my first screen shatter in the 6 or 7 years I owned an iPhone.  I don’t even believe in having a case for it.

It was also the same night I got shit-faced, pierced my eyebrow horizontally and ended up at a bar in New Haven where the younger brother of a Melanie Hater bartends.  His older sister hates me, but he always had a crush on me and now wants to hang out.

I always had a crush on him too which I never told a soul because he was my friends younger brother, but none of that matters anymore.

Life is crazy.  I mean it’s freaky crazy, you know?

Aside from all that, I just bought the digital Back to the Future movie on Amazon and I’m watching it now because I just beat the game.

I can feel myself getting fatter as I lay here wiping ice-cream cone from the sides of my mouth.

I tried that 10-day “fast” and it worked for the most part.  Once I got through the first two days, it was actually really easy.  I felt full just with the shakes and salad for dinner but I stopped at day 7 because mom made delicious fish and I didn’t feel like going to the salad bar in Stop & Shop that evening.

Last time I was at Stop & Shop, I ran into that woman, the mouse woman from my last post.  The super weird woman that stared at me and wiggled around during her massage.  I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes wide with fright, she was looking directly at me and I bolted down the beer isle.  I’m not embellishing any of this, it was like something out of a cliche sitcom.  I grabbed a six-pack, any six-pack, and ran for the register.  There she was again!  I turned and read a magazine on the rack.

I probably won’t be seeing the younger brother anytime soon.  Even if I tell him we’re just going to be friends and hang out once a week on our shared day off, things will get messy and overloaded with drama and I’ll most likely be gunned down by his sister.  I’ll probably be gunned down now for even writing about it.

My younger, happy-go-lucky self would’ve been like, yeah let’s do something fun!  But my old, 36-year old self is too tired and worn out from all that non-sense.  It’s too much trouble, not worth the grief.  Too heart wrenching.

Live quietly Mel, tread lightly.

Today was my one day off in like, forever.  And I chose to spend it with my parents at a new Chinese buffet that had just opened up, then finish playing the rest of my video game, and now I’m watching the 1985 version of said video game.  And you know what?  I’m loving it!  If I had more days like this, I’d start exercising again.  If only…..

Life is quiet and good.  I’m just going to keep my head down and focus on my plan.  Eye on the prize.  This is my penance from all the poor choices I made through-out the life of this blog, and I have to trudge through it with dignity like the Camino taught me to do.

As long as I have a purpose, I have dignity.

That’s about all the Camino taught me, well, that and I’m severely determined at all costs and I miss my bed more than anyone or anything.

I want to write one of my stream of conscious posts that involves Rational Brain.  I want it to be about the difference between pride and dignity, or pride verses honor would be better.

How it’s okay to be honorable, but not okay to be prideful.

Rational Brain – “The honorable man puts aside his feelings for the greater good, a prideful person keeps them.”

Me – “What about dignity and pride?”

Rational Brain – “The dignified person believes in his cause even if it means sacrifice.  A prideful person believes in only what they can gain from it.”

Me – “What about being proud?  Isn’t pride and being proud the same thing?”

Rational Brain – “You can be proud of yourself for a job well done, or proud of your children, but it’s the self-righteous (superiority) kind of pride that blinds people.”

Where the hell do you get this stuff from?

Rational Brain – “I got that last little bit from Google, the pride verses proud question.  It was the semantics that tripped me up.  The rest of it I pulled out of our ass.”

Me – “I miss our talks.”

Rational Brain – “Well then finish up your walk of shame and let’s get cracking again!  I’m not going anywhere.”

Me – “What about my weight gain?  Is it prideful to want to lose the weight?”

Rational Brain – “It’s prideful if you’re losing weight for other people and not for yourself.  It’s honorable if you’re doing it to honor your body, your health, and your self.”

Me – “Uh huh.”

Rational Brain – “Always remember your purpose.  Everything you do should have a conscious purpose.  Otherwise you eat your emotions.  There is no dignity in gluttony, no purpose.”

Me – “But with that kind of attitude, wouldn’t that cause me to judge others for their life choices?”

Rational Brain – “Only if you’re being prideful.  You dishonor others when you dishonor yourself and you dishonor yourself if your purpose lies with prideful superficial perceptions, letting other people’s beliefs control your own.”

Me – “But you just said there is no dignity in gluttony?!  How can I not see that when I look at a fat person?”

Rational Brain – “Have you ever judged a fat person before?  When you were thin?”

Me – “No.  I saw them as just a regular person, no different from me.”

Rational Brain – “You’re reflecting your own fears on them.  It’s all in your head.  You are projecting.  What wasn’t there before, is here now, why?  Because you’re afraid it will happen to you.”

Me – “Shit…..”

Rational Brain – “You’re too prideful right now to lose weight.  You’re not seeing reality.”

Me – “What’s the reality?”

Rational Brain – “Your assumptions are an illusion.  A heart attack is real.  As long as you’re prideful, you’ll never lose weight.  It’s karma, remember?  Your fears WILL happen.”

Me – “Okay okay, I should freaking sleep.”

Rational Brain – “Good talk.”

Me – “So wait, are you saying that pride is fear?”

Rational Brain – “What do you feel it means in your heart?”

Me – “That it’s fear.  It’s holding on.”

Rational Brain – “And pride will hold the weight on you until you can let it go.”

Me – “Until I stop judging myself and others.”

Rational Brain – “Exactly.”

Me – “No no no, that’s wrong!  Whenever I see a morbidly obese person, that makes me get in gear to exercise!”

Rational Brain – “Ugh, why won’t you shut up already?!”

Me – “It’s true!”

Rational Brain – “Maybe that acts as a trigger, an inspiration – a way to conquer your fear instead of succumbing to it or stressing about it, it helps you make a choice.”

Me – “But I’m judging them while I do it…..”

Rational Brain – “I can’t do this with you tonight.  I’m really tired.  You are an incorrigible mess!”

Me – “………”

Rational Brain – “There’s no light without dark, no happy without sad, no wet without dry……You see the opposite of what you want, so it pushes you to change.  Do you judge the darkness?  The sadness?  The dryness?  Or just see it for what it is?  The opposite of what you want?”

Me – “I am incorrigible.”

Rational Brain – “You need to understand that judging or placing blame comes from a place of superiority.  When you feel superior to someone else.  Is that what you feel when you look at a morbidly obese person?”

Me – “Not exactly….or, er, I don’t know.

Rational Brain – “Okay, well I’m done for tonight.  I mean it now.  You’re prideful and scared of buying new fat pants because you’re too cheap and can’t let go of the past.”

Me – “Now you’re just being mean.”

Me – “You have to fix this!  Tell me what to do!”

Me – “Okay, now you’re ignoring me.”

Me – “Srysly?”

Rational Brain – “Oh my God shut the fuck up!  You want my advice?  Eat less, exercise more.  For fucksake….”

 

 

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The Imp in Impatience

I’m an imp when it comes to being annoyed.  Annoying people cause me to do and say stupid things.

Certain people talk non-stop as a way for them to be understood and accepted by others and if they catch me on a bad day, I purposely act stupid as a show of not “getting” them.

They tell me an occurrence in their lives, and I counter with something about my own life that has little to do with what they’re actually saying, and the thing I interject with is often a mundane common knowledge experience.

I do this for two reasons;  First being that I don’t want to get chummy with these people and the second reason is that it puts them in control.  I simplify myself to the point where it no longer matters if they have my acceptance or not.  They understand that I’m not on their level of experience or thinking so why bother?

The kindred spirit they’re seeking is not there, but that doesn’t make me a bad person, just naive.  Which gives them complete control and thus makes them feel better about themselves which was their goal all along.

I don’t have the energy for people who seek their validation through me.  I don’t have the energy to constantly agree with these types.

I did my taxes for 2015.  I recorded almost everything as perfectly as I can and I was negative almost $9000.  I wasn’t kidding when I wrote about the trouble I was in and my taxes can prove it.

Am I out of trouble?  Not yet.  I’ll definitely be out of it by August when I no longer have to pay $1000 a month to pay off a business loan.  And by moving to the new location I save $300 on rent, $400 on utilities, and a few hundred on washing sheets but the savings from that hasn’t kicked in yet.  My last utility payment of $470 is at the end of this month.  Next month will look better for me.

And once I sell those 300 couples massages on Groupon, I’ll save $400 a month on bills that will be paid off with the money from groupon.

Here’s my plan for redemption:

Saving: $800 from moving (at least $800)

$400 after groupon check

$1000 after August

By August I’ll have an extra $2,200 in my bank account every month which will go towards paying off another loan and once that loan’s been paid off, I’ll have an extra $2600 in my account every month (not revolving, but being added).  If my plan goes accordingly, I’ll be debt free this time next year with a fatty paycheck of $1000 a week for sitting on my arse and waking up late.

It all looks feasible on paper.  The business made over $190,000 last year, but spent nearly $200,000.

So when people come to me seeking validation, using nothing but their ego, I don’t have the effing energy man.  Leave me the fuck alone.

I want to look them in the eye and say “I don’t care.”  “I don’t care about your life.”  “Your life and your problems are trifle and symptomatic of lacking self-worth.”

Would it be different next year?  When everything is paid off and I have money?

I thought about this a lot and the answer is no.  I know how I am when I’m successful and I’m just the same as I am now, only I use my success as a judgement barometer.

Me thinking – “I worked hard to get where I am.  I had no help.  Quit your bitching and do something with your life because if I could do it, there’s no reason why you can’t either.”

Success or no success, I can’t help getting annoyed.  Violently annoyed.  Angry.  The imp in me jumps wildly around banging his fists.  It doesn’t matter if I’m happy or doomed to failure, the imp stays the same.

I should contact Groupon to sell those couples massages for me.  I’m not looking forward to it.  It means I have to work just as much as I did in the beginning, two years ago.  Client after client, answering phones.  Only more work this time around since I have so many members I need to keep track of.  Making sure they can get in for appointments during the uproar.

But after I receive the check it’ll all be worth it.   And I’ll look back and exhale.  I can not wait to exhale.

I’ve exhaled quite a bit since Evil August of last year.  Evil August 2015 shall never be repeated.  If I can get through Evil August, I can get through anything.  I’m at least better off now than I was back then.

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I Missed it Again

I ended up not going to the book club meeting again.  Instead, I played on the computer and lost track of time.  When I looked at my watch, it was 7:10 pm, I had to be there by 7:30.

I actually hopped in my car and drove to the Heart of Darkness (AKA New Haven CT), parked in a garage and stood in front of 300 George St.

It was a big building.

Me – “What room is it in?”

I looked at my phone to see it was 10 of 8.  It was getting dark.  I was hungry, dehydrated, tired and scared.  It was only 30 days prior in that exact location where they found a bloodied human torso.

Me – “Walking back to my car will be a bitch.  And I’ll be tipsy on wine……it’s scary here.  It’s freaking scary.”

In other words, I chickened out.  I totally and completely chickened the fuck out.

I posted a message on their website apologizing for not showing up due to tardiness and the organizer responded back with, “Everyone’s late.  You would have been in time for pizza!”

While I was on the Meetup website, another group was recommended to me.  A writers workshop group.  I clicked ADD ME.

It’ll be just another group that I’ll say I’ll attend but never do.  The thought of going seems like a wonderful fantastic idea but once I’m home, it’s hard prying myself back out.  I’ve always suffered with this affliction.  Especially if it entails me having to drive into the Heart of Darkness meeting people I’ve never met before.

And I’ve developed a new system for keeping track of member clients.  Well, I didn’t actually come up with it, my new employee did.

But in order to change over to the new improved system, I have countless hours ahead of me with having to go through each member and looking up their history, all their appointments, all the times they’ve been billed – it will take a gargantuan amount of time.  Seemingly, an infinite (yes infinite) amount of time.

There’s always shit I have to do and whilst in the midst of getting this shit done I always say to myself, “this will be the only time I’ll ever have to do this.  Once it’s done, it’s done.”

But then a completely new shit will arrive.  There’s ALWAYS shit!

You want to know the worst shit of all?  Sheets.  Going to the laundromat to wash sheets.

I.  Fucking.  Hate.  It.

I blocked off tomorrow night for some reason.  I wrote in the notes “I have plans.”

I block time off my schedule whenever I make plans so my employee’s know not to schedule me.  But I always forget what my plans are – almost every single time I forget.

So, I have plans tomorrow night.  Friday night.  I’m sure those plans, whatever they may be, are awesome.  But guess what those plans are now?  Washing fucking sheets.  I’m glad I blocked off Friday night – I’m glad so I can wash fucking sheets.

I’m miserable at the laundromat.  Everyone knows to stay away from me.  I put on my heavy-duty headphones so I can’t hear myself swear.

I have the habit of swearing in my head.  “Fuck this, fuck that, fuck fuck fuck.”  But when I’m at the laundromat, it’s audible.  I can’t contain it.

When I drop my quarters on the floor, “Son of a fuck.”

While I’m struggling with stuffing clean sheets into my sack, “Son of a fuck whore.”

When the sheets take forever to dry, “You’re kidding me with this shit.”  I fish out another quarter, shove it in the machine, “Fucking dry already!”

All while listening to my headphones, being completely deaf to myself.

The first thing I must do after fixing my debt is to get my employee’s mother to start washing sheets again.  This is URGENT.  Other than my impending doom involving the police, washing sheets is the next urgent matter.  It’s killing me.  It’s turning my nails yellow.

I NEVER swear.  You can ask anybody, I’m not a swearer.  But nowadays it’s slipping out unperturbed.  Audible diarrhea.

I desperately need to write my book.

Every great once in a while (about once a month), I find myself with nothing to do for the day.  I’m rested up, fed, everything’s done.  That’s the time I ask myself, “what do you want to do today more than anything?”

Write.  It’s always write.

I used to love playing alone when I was a kid.  I was able to concoct fantastical worlds using pure imagination – my imagination, my rules, my world.  I had the best time of my life doing this.

I remember when that feeling started slipping away.  When I held an action figure in my hand and I was like, what the hell do I do with this?  I tried playing with it, but it lost all magic.

You have no idea how deviated this made me.  I was heartbroken.  My one true joy in life no longer filled me and it edged a little bitterness into my heart.

I washed this bitterness down with video games.  I was around 9 when it happened, close to 10.  My aunt bought me a really cool Teenage Ninja Turtle fortress for Christmas and I was looking forward to playing with it, but I couldn’t even when I tried.

But I think it’s because of my love of fantasy, that makes me want to write.  To be able to experience that world again, to completely lose myself in its divinity.  Oh God how I loved it.  I even remember the stories I made up!

I need to end this post.

 

 

 

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MelAnus

I’m thinking about changing my name to MelAnus.  It’s close enough to Melanie so my parents won’t care too much.  And once it’s changed, I’ll switch the name of my blog to MelAnus Discharge.  Pretty cool, huh?  Thought of it meself.  Actually thought of it as I was typing it.

Because, well, let’s be honest here.  What I spew into my blog is no different then relaxing my bowels but man I tell you what, I enjoy both.

Enough small talk, I wanted to share with you my epiphany I had earlier.

I thought long and hard (while relaxing my bowels) about my curious “innocent” nature and it has nothing to do with me trying to cover up a demon – I love my demon actually, and recently wrote about him.

Cool guy.

No, I’m not actually innocent.  I’m stupid!  People mistake my stupidity for innocence which only means that those people are just as stupid as I am.

I’m glad I got that off my chest.  Acknowledging and accepting my stupidity makes me feel closer to inching my way onto one of the more specialized secular branches of the category tree.  I have fellow brothers and sisters who will laugh beside me and hold my hand – I am not alone.

And maybe I am fearless, but it’s only because I’m stupid – I don’t think, only do.  MelAnus do do.  It all makes sense now.

It makes me feel so much better by knowing myself.  Like finally getting a diagnosis for a horrendous rash on your genitals.  The itch will now stop.

So yes, I am playing spa owner.  Not because I want to enrich the lives in my community, but because I want to be rich and not have to work.

Okay, other than that, last night I hit my peak of fear and today I woke up bright-eyed and chipper thanks to my buoyant nature or what some like to call, being bi-polor.

Why was I at the height of my fear?  Have you ever owned a business?

Let me break it down for you, when your business starts siphoning money from an already depleted well, you’re going to hear a sucking sound.  And that sucking sound will follow you around everywhere you go.  Every thought that you have, every loose dollar you spend.

“I think I’ll get a dunkin iced coffee today!  Oh wait….”  Suck suck suck.  Your chest caves in.

You may not believe me, but it’s like going through a bad breakup, or a divorce – your heart smolders in satanic ashes, you breathe like you only have a quarter of your lung capacity left.

Nothing else matters.  All else is nonsense.

You basically lose yourself.  You lose yourself to the environment that you placed yourself in.

When you lose yourself, there is no joy there.  But on the flip side, others may feel that when they “lose” themselves, they’re free.  They’re at their happiest.  But they haven’t actually lost themselves per se, no, they found themselves.

As a proud member of the Stupid category, I’m adequately happy pretty much all of the time.  I let loose and I’m able to be myself – I’m not one that gives a fuck (just watch me dance).  What I’m trying to say is that I found out who I was a very long time ago but the seriousness of the world sucked it out.

It made me feel insecure, unsafe, unwanted.  I’m not “professional” or “responsible” is what I hear.  The world can do that people.  To just about everyone.

And now with my business hanging on the brink, it pushes me further away.

When you’re being yourself, you live in the moment.  I know this for a fact and not just by listening to the Power of Now but I’ve lived this way for years!  That is, before I started to “grow up”.

Everyone’s got it wrong.  Don’t ever grow up.

I’m a believer in choice.  Ayahuasca told me there is ALWAYS a choice.  And with this belief, comes answers.  Where there’s a choice, there is always an answer.

I woke up today happy because I remembered that there’s always an answer.  You only have to believe and do everything it takes and I mean everything.

Shit takes its toll.  Worse than going in circles over the GW bridge (which is one of my humiliating traditions).

When you see the answer, bam, you’re back to your normal self.  But sometimes you see your answer and it doesn’t register right away.  It may take a while until you fully see it.

“No no that’s too outlandish, it will never work.”  Then you sit on it for a while and you wake up one day and say, “That’s it!  Why have I waited so long?!”

Perhaps you have to be your normal self in order to see your unique answer?

What is my normal self?  Well, I forgot for a long time who I was until I recently remembered that I’m part stupid.

How do you know who your normal self is?

Okay, I figured out how to do this and I’m sure it’s different for everyone so I made it into a one question quiz.  For me personally, the answer was stupidity – this answer frees me.  For you it might be something completely different.

Okay, here’s the first and only question:  What are you most afraid of?

And I don’t mean bears or zombies, no, I mean, what are you afraid of being?  Right at this very moment?

This is a tricky question because I don’t want you to get confused with consequences or end result answers like, “I’m afraid of being alone.”

Being alone is an end result answer, not a present moment way of being.  Or, “I’m afraid of living with regrets” , “I’m afraid of being poor”,”I’m afraid of not being a good provider.”

Those are all end result stuff, future stuff.  I mean your quirks, your secret personality defects, your flaws – the really good stuff.

By finding out exactly what you’re afraid of being and then committing yourself to becoming what you’re afraid of then guess what happens?  The fear of it completely dissolves and what you’re left with is your pure untainted identity.

By accepting my stupidity and sharing it with others, I’m completely free.

When I smoke pot around people, depending on who I’m with, I can see these types of fears in others.  I can see how it holds people back, causes them to manipulate, get offended, skirt the truth – I see it!

The way out is in.  It’s to embrace.  If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to trust me on it.

Rational Brain – “What about rapists, pedophiles, or people with an urge to kill?  You want them to embrace their weaknesses?”

That’s not who they really are, it’s more like a compulsion they have, or a need.  Like smoking cigarettes or doing drugs, it satisfies a craving.  It’s a brain problem.

Rational Brain – “You have a bullshit answer for everything, don’t you?”

It’s not bullshit, I read an article.  It’s actually really sad.

But anyway, that’s how you find yourself.  By finding out what you’re afraid of being and becoming it by choice.  If you don’t do it by choice, it will happen without your choice and I promise you it WILL happen.

And if you do this correctly, you don’t actually become your fear.  You eliminate it.  And by eliminating it, nothing holds you back anymore.  You’d be fully present and I’d be able to smoke pot around you.

I guess it’s hard to explain.

It’s 1AM and I told myself I was going to exercise tomorrow before work.  I have to friggin sleep.

Before I go, I just want to say that I don’t think I’ll be blogging for a while.  At least, not until I whip my business back into shape.  I just hate writing the same morose things over and over again.  I hate whining.

You want to hear something disgusting?  I saved my dental floss!  I flossed my teeth with it and put it aside for next time.  Where is it?  Oh, I think it’s on the floor now.  Okay, I’ll throw it out.  But I just wanted to demonstrate to you just how much in the dog house I am.

MelAnus weeps.

My mom today gave me toothpaste, toilet paper, shampoo, and socks.

Me – “Thank you for these gifts!”

And I really REALLY meant it.

“I won’t have to darn my socks this winter!”

I can’t believe I wrote so much.  All I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to take a break from writing for a while.

To wrap things up, I just want to reiterate that living in the present moment requires you to eliminate all fear.  Eckhart Tolle, in his book The Power of Now, tells you to live presently and your fears will wash away by themselves, but I like my way better.  My way of confronting your fear is better.  If you don’t confront it, you’ll have no awareness of it and soon enough you’ll become that what you hate most.

My brain works swiftly when I’m in the present.  I’m less jumpy and I feel smarter.  Almost impenetrable, like nobody has any negative affect on me whatsoever.

I miss that feeling.

How do I get it back?  Two ways in conjunction:  By remembering there is always a choice and because a choice exists, I will find an answer.  And secondly, by embracing what it is I’m afraid to be.

MelAnus is done discharging for tonight.

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What to Do What to do

I’m finding myself with more and more free time these days, although, I’m broke so it’s not like I can do anything or go anywhere (which is fine by me), and I still get a few sporadic clients who request me during the week so I can’t make plans easily even if I do only work one hour a day.

Which is fine by me since I’m broke anyhow.

And when I do have a client, let’s say at 6 o’lock in the evening, I spend the whole day being cranky in anticipation of massaging that one client.  I wake up late out of spite, I watch anime to help me feel better, ignore the world around me and sulk until 6 o’clock when I massage that one client.  Then I return home in exhaustion and watch even more anime.

Here’s a list of Japanese words I learned:

Sigoy – Awesome

Itadakimasu – let’s eat

Kaza – Mother

Doza – Father

jawnney – see you later

Yadayada – God help us

Hello – Kinichiwa

Thank you – Arigoto

Sorry – Komenesai

Good Morning – Ohio

Stupid – Baka

Don’t you know – dattebayo

Nanee – What?!

(Spelling doesn’t count)

I’ll update this list as my vocabulary grows.  I practice speaking them with my Japanese client.

Today was one of those precarious days where I had no clients.  All I had to do was charge my member clients and pick up a sheet of vinyl at either an art store or hardware store for our shirodhara treatments (so the oil can drip down into the copper vessel without getting everywhere).  I ended up at an art store and after finding exactly what I needed, I picked up a pair of large googly eyes and velcro’d them to the hood of my car.

“There, that’s better.”

On my ride home I wondered to myself, “now what?”  “No money, I feel too defeated to want to call anyone, what do I do with myself?”

I can’t concentrate on more than one thing at a time.  That’s why it’s imperative for me to have a To Do List to avoid getting overwhelmed, but what if there’s nothing left for me to do?  At least, nothing more I can do for today, anyway.

There are two things that I have my heart set on accomplishing:

1)  My art idea (which is such an awesome idea that I must keep it a secret)

2)  My book

Since I can only focus on one thing at a time, I must choose only one of these things.  After much deliberation, I chose to focus on my book.  Mainly because my art idea costs far too much money at this moment.

I found my main character, Frankie (short for Frances), she’s abnormally tall and thin with frizzy red hair, an overbite, horrible rosacea and acne.  She lacks intelligence and has no major talents or qualities that stand out other than being tall and ugly.

That’s my main character, Frankie.  I laugh just thinking about her.  I picked the name Frankie because my Gramps, Dad, and brother are all named Francis and it means “The Free One.”  It’s kind of perfect for the story.

Normally during downtime such as this, I’d be playing a video game.  But thanks to my financial status, I can’t afford one.

Anyway, I’m going to focus on my book and by doing so, I must *read* books.  But I gotta say I feel a bit guilty for laying around listening to audiobooks all day.  Can this truly be productive?

Frankie – “Productive is what productive does is what momma always said.”

You think you’d be a good protagonist?

Frankie – “I don’t know, you gave me such a big over-bite that I’d probably be better off eating apples or opening beer bottles with my teeth all day.”

I’m glad you can laugh at yourself.

Frankie – “I’m not laughing, I’m pissed!  You make me sound like a brain defunct Carrot Top!”

Oh god, my protagonist already hates me…..

Frankie – “You called me ugly!”

Pipe down!  You’re a fictional character in my head.

Frankie – “But you have to treat me like a 3-dementional being with thoughts and feelings in order to pull off writing a compelling novel.”

You’re not really stupid, are you?

Frankie – “People only think that because I look stupid.”

Shut up before I give you a Mike Tyson Lisp.

Maybe a fiery redhead isn’t the best idea here…..

After I get done with my book of the month, I’m going to listen to book one of Harry Potter.  I never read book one and I need pointers on writing in third-person format which JK nails.

I better hop to it – laying around listening to audio books!  At least I can go for a hike or rollerblade too while I’m at it.

You know, in an askew way, my blog is like a To Do list.  It makes me feel like I’m in control.  Anyway, I can’t really explain it, but I like to keep everything in one place and having a blog does that.

Frankie – “How do you think the unthinkable?”

How?

Frankie – “With an itheburg!”

I didn’t actually give you a Mike Tyson lisp.  You can stop that.

Frankie – “You know what a good idea for a story is?”

What?

Frankie – “What we’re doing right now.  Having a dialog like this.  Then you’ll start putting me in weird situations to form somewhat of a plot, and I don’t like the weird situations so I tell you off.”

And?

Frankie – “The more I tell you off, the angrier you get.  So you get back at me by putting me in an even worse situation than before.”

Where’s the plot though?

Frankie – “I find the writer who’s writing YOU!”

Huh, that is kind of a cool idea.  Holy shit, did I just come up with that or did you?

Frankie – “HellOOoo, I’m a 3-dementional character, remember?  I came up with it.”

My mind is fully scrambled.

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