Fun-house appraisals

I spent about an hour feeling comfortable about a profile picture. I went through several snapshots on my web cam and found unsatisfactory statements being portrayed. I'm also a little loopy from some caffeine powder being sold in the drugstore. It was an experiment and hear caffeine is bad for you anyway. I was falling asleep prior from too much wonder. and now my thoughts are somewhat scattered.

At some point I'll be cold-calling for a new venture I'm involved in. My previous concern over the villainous, manipulative, salesman role is gone. Replaced is simply the foreboding of first interactions. Our life is often propelled through our reflections in the eyes of another. Being considerate is valuable, being an introvert is detrimental. I don't like it, it's strenuous but I do it in little bits and usually the fear is based in nothing but mystery. I move along ok.

When I exercise, I find extreme value in how the internal conflict between mind and body services in levels of pain and fatigue. It's like I'm finally having it out with myself after days of indecisions. Occasionally this spills over into other progressive acts, like cleaning, cooking and writing. But creating a discipline of success is still a work in progress and maybe always will be. It doesn't really matter to think about though until current levels yield sustaining profits. The industry of the soul being warped by tendency is like a big joke on the culture of youthful ambition. Guidance is not meant to be a luxury but a requirement. I give a lot of respect to people that can and have motivated themselves to their own targeted heights. However the passive suggestion to some inherent flexibility new parents may have about the care and support of their children can be a determining factor in the mass hesitation of young people to do anything more than build on their BC rank or study raid boss encounters or whatever it is that girls do with their time while boys plot to engage them.

I often receive statements from my closest elders about pride and peace of mind about how I turned out. But I know how I'm living and how I want to live in the future and the disparity is disheartening. Everyday I push and realize that during the exertion it's hard to remember why. By the time I get to looking at my own reflection, I'm confused as to what I'm searching for and that flux propels itself into the challenges invented by my initiatives, no matter how impulsive they were. I believe there are people out there that don't think nearly as much about the relationship between self and applied angles and consequence, but how human can you be if you don't learn as you go, but just act and accomplish without demanding reason or assurance. How are successful people created?

My parents aren't missing, they do have their own distractions. I'm not alone but I prefer my own shortcomings to those of others. I see that production and marketing all begin with pen & paper and solid appreciation for cause and effect. We could all be so effective if it weren't for the nameless. I can't honestly say I'm thoroughly distracted from writing or exercising or working all the time. I acknowledge that I wish not to. It is the paradox behind desire and it is invented here in society. If I can acquire, my existence giving me the opportunity to afford the acquisition, then what truly prevents the effort. A million answers and not one satisfactory about how determination prevents itself. I think language is generously applied to successful people, so much so that they seem pinnacles of focus. I have considered the idea recently that maybe success isn't hard won at all. For those most likely to enjoy and adapt to a subject of interest, it happens naturally and organically and with just regular practice they are often prepared when an impulse of supportive energy passes their way. It's possible that everything we think we know about hard-work is false.

Monetarily, systematizing an endeavor with a mixed team of specialists is standard practice for maximum freedom. Regardless, it seems daunting to the normal masses who yet even know what they truly enjoy working at. I generalize but I get out, I'm not crazy. We need a change of understanding.

You don't lay down in NYC.

In fact, I could probably argue that anywhere. But NYC has a reputation for being particularly live. It brings people together in all sorts of environment. People are the prime mover of all things happening in our society. Knowing them should be the big business of anyone venturing anything remotely ambitious. I don't know how long it takes to earn the gumption to adopt an aggressive social stance, or if I'm fighting a genetic stamp of "introvert." What I do know is I ended up in some high-rise lounge in upper-midtown the other day. My entry ticket was my pheromone-bucket of a cousin; I don't know the science. I watch gorgeous women wave white flags in his presence. He doesn't say much and has admitted he doesn't care much either. Apparently this is key when dating in a mature market, being needless. I think I'm pretty good at pretending, it doesn't change the fact I can't remember the last time I was notified that a model saw Jesus in the back of my head and praying I'd notice her revelation and start a conversation. I used to believe that girls never looked back, this is why men always do. But, believe it or not, the hot ones you wish had more humility in them, do have their exceptions. When they make them, they don't just look back, they look repeatedly and they stare.

It's a stretch to breach the metaphor here but consider how perspective educates. New angles add dimensions to previously 2D realities. All the opportunity in NYC doesn't count for much if you aren't out there experiencing it. The opportunity of experience itself comes seldom to those who don't prepare. Taking care of yourself, maintaining your appearance and being confident enough in what you can offer may be a few of the steps that can get you into some hipster playpen overlooking the little people scrambling down below (dismiss my inferiority complex, it really does feel that way when you're up there). Did I mention, the woman inviting my cousin was just serving the drinks in this environment where none of us knew anyone personally and we drank for free the entire night, with table service which she appropriated from another group she somehow kicked out. There are so many rules to bend and break in life and most often this happens out of impulse: in this case she wanted to get to know him, invited him where she could at her leisure, took care of his people and got her time in, all without the proper authority.

The magic of wealth and freedom (moving where and when you want to, never wanting for the basics and a bit more) has little to do with money, I'm starting to think, and more to do with realizing what is already within your grasp to exploit: Strengths, positions, friends, common sense, desire and youth. There's no more royalty, upholding a cultural hierarchy is something done in the mind. It's flexible just like everything else up there. Sometimes perceptions aren't of any value and living with a forward lean can yield more results. Whatever you do, if there are dreams to pursue, don't entertain functions that reverse your output when you'd have more than enough energy to drink and dance the night away in strange environments amidst provocative energies. The work is related to the reward through you. Everyday you have the opportunity to entice the universe to play your game. But None of it happens without engagement, and exposure.

I was only out because another cousin came in from out of town for his birthday. I'm glad I didn't bitch out for laziness.

Yesterday and Tomorrow

Last night I received a call from my Aunt. She referenced me to an entrepreneur in the IT business. Sales, web technology, database management, application development, and copy-writing. My resume stinks. For what works in it, it has an equal value of detrimental nonsense that only conveys I have no clear direction. What else is new?
He was kind enough to explain the why and how and at least I have a lead to start some work. Will it get it me out of the ferris-wheel purgatory? I've got to start training anew, reset my goals and challenge my resolve. Not necessarily new activities but the focus wasn't there because the goals weren't clear. Ventures of time and money in the last month of unemployment were not what I had hoped for but it's better than nothing. Still, I'm unnerved by the question "Can you sell yourself?"
It's not a small thing to bluff when your integrity is on the line. You have to look at your short falls before plans can be put in place to fix them. But you're not allowed to acknowledge them at the moment of appraisal. It's bad business to choke when the light lands on you. And yet it's the most honest representation for someone who has so little to represent in terms of actual experience and tested savvy. You'd wanna say you think outside the box but you don't even know what the box is. You're not aware when you're considered creative or preemptive or capable because all you know are the problems you solved by the skin of your teeth. It makes me wonder if confidence is fabricated and installed from the outside in. If it's something that the ego creates, part of its function like a magic trick falsifies validity. Confidence is not a part of the natural equation, only necessity. So if survival requires fabrication it shouldn't cause such confusion. Still I don't like channeling bullshit. If I can't back it up, how would it make me look later? The world's big enough but the circles are small. After a certain period perhaps confidence becomes inherit, the life challenges meld together and are overcome with enough frequency to paste resolve over things that used to make you crap your pants. Until then do I just fake it?
I'm being given a test in copy-writing. I've read the fluff out there. It's repetitive, boring, horrid nonsense that conveys little to nothing of the bottom line. Websites are saturated with superfluous conjecture. I'm not talking about the product, just the crap that's written to get people to buy. Does income justify taking advantage of ignorance? Is beating people over the head with appropriated positivity really the way to get a message across? Am I asking too many questions about the system that works? Misdirection is happening on every level of the economy and it seems to be the key to getting things done. Without even coming to terms as to whether or not I can sell myself, I would be expected to sell someone else. Valid information can make an analytical person like me comfy. It means I can beat down antagonists, I can unsettle exploitation, I can be a self-righteous prick. And for some reason, that feels so much better. Is it better than feeling guilty for leading people on? Can I sell myself over an awful product? Is this tomorrow's challenge. What else am I bargaining if I wind up being good at it? It's easy to respect the approach of the survivalist. I think most put the questions of conscience aside and label it weakness when bills have to be paid. I haven't experienced that yet and thought of crossing the threshold . . . it better pay well.

Domain

I'm a ping-pong ball. Not so much by choice but by indecision and lack of preparation. I am fortunate enough to have people in my life that care about me. At the very least they appreciate I'm a minimal burden with a very high standard of respect and consideration for privacy. I don't contribute more than a low-key element. I don't disrupt or lash out. My tolerance threshold is severe. Being so cool fits well with the perpetual role of the guest. I don't believe my loved ones are intrigued so much as they aren't bothered. The good can be appreciated easier that way. And somehow I've developed this resource as a survival trait while I figure myself out. I'm aware it's become a habit and pray that the awareness itself is a sign of the finite span of this time in my life. Regardless, I acknowledge it's something that others can offer. It's a great something and most people call it home. But it's theirs. I want mine.

I am not an honest man. I reserve my judgments and live by them behind a generally closed exterior. I believe what I believe about people and let my actions generally dictate a path of least resistance. I refrain often. I do not believe faith in the general sense is necessary. I won't go so far as to call myself a cynic. I respect the less favorable outcome of the moment, and of the actions people take. I've witnessed enough of them in myself to see it reflected in others. If I'm training myself, I wonder why I would do that. Regardless, the closed circuit of my emotions has some steam to vent, some blood to let and this activity isn't suitable as a guest.

Building a home is a chance to make a statement about your life. It will reflect your strengths and weaknesses. It will become your sanctuary from the world's demands. It can fortify you and give you the peace needed to focus on whatever is most relevant. At its best, a home can be a haven for those you choose to protect and nurture. This purpose is a sign of some serious power, an indication of the stability of your existence. There is no place like home, because there is no place capable of accepting you as its master otherwise. A host's patience wears thin no matter where you go. You become integrated in their process, affected by their approach to life, unable to draw your lines less you seem ungrateful. Many people don't realize the value of independence until the bonds of dependence have made their restrictions clear. Even then they are hard to anticipate. The lack of a personal fortress, where within one can grow self-aware and cunning, means diminishing returns on the minds expanse and the maturation of its ego. A person without dire need to sustain himself will watch TV and let it take him somewhere since the guide-rails of entertainment are so much more convenient.

It's easier not to do. But not better. Being a guest for too long is an injustice upon itself, worse if the person fails to realize it. Shame will reap from his ignorance and harvest his soul.

I've found a writing contest I have enough time to prepare for. The deadline is in May an the fee is only $15 to submit. I'll be writing it as a guest, dreaming of being the host and mounting a counter-offense against all the absurd misconceptions of status that otherwise cause a foul contempt at my own promises. If I can't write a short story, I don't exist. This nature . . . It's the closest thing I have to a home, where my voice is the authority and the lines make sense.

Smug and Indignant

Approaching the one month marker to my much needed reality check (that's when the unemployment runs out), I'm finding that there is a thin line between frantic and indifferent behavior. The motivation has to be volatile to cause the excitement of urgency. If it implodes, the body is left in a void of reference. What am I talking about?

You can go over a year and have some distant appreciation of the fact that it's just easier not to do anything. Resources being available, you may criticize you're own dependence on the familiar world and it's friendlies, knowing it does little to represent the war that's coming. Surviving is not fun. It's just necessary; an unfair obligation. I might be revealing an engorged and possibly retarded dislike for the fundamentals, but authority being what it's become: an evolving reference mutated by people more inclined to exploit the obvious, the binding of "boss" and "bills", of "job" and "worth," getting out from under means a little psycho rebellion. I'm probably shooting myself in the foot somehow, but better now than never.

Opportunities can feel like burdens when you're not making your own life and used to it. Sharing controls with the controlling powers means limiting your ability to perceive a path through the frustration. What am I talking about?

I was a mean truant. I never grew out of my disinterests. I'm trying to find a way to happily partake in the labor circus but the people can and do suck. The whole "it's a part of life" deal doesn't fly with me. People shouldn't get to be assholes and the rest of the world deal. If they do, they definitely shouldn't be promoted. Maybe fairness is the harder gig. Regardless, service has been transformed. The taste is bitter. Work is hated, enterprise is forgotten, reward is alien.

The world can't run without people willing to contribute. I get that. I'm not offering up a rhetoric problem to whine about although some might see that. I'm 26 and I appreciate that new generations arrive everyday without any clue about the world they are going to inherit or if its even something they know they're allowed to be unhappy about. Happiness is the pursuit after all, lest we forget.

The days now are much faster than I ever recall them capable of being. Aggression would help but I have little. The enemy is invisible and even if I saw it I doubt I'd understand the threat emotionally. It's just an intellectual alarm going off at the moment. The survival mechanism kicks in abruptly when the wallet thins and it truly is a shame it comes to that. There's so much more to life than emergencies, at-will employment, and showing deference to idiots.

Discipline.

Not a lot of fun. It has very few attractive qualities and they are all quite indirect. I dare say that the positive form of discipline is obsession. To be driven by a need or hunger in such a way that preoccupation diminishes is really preferable. I can sit with my Xbox360 for hours. I used to be able to do the same with WoW. Both activities have taken up less an less time recently due to simple lack of interest. I find a vacuum however where I spin irrationally to different potentially distracting activities that don't yield much satisfaction. It's like repeatedly going to the fridge knowing there's nothing to eat.
Information being readily available, my new areas of focus are centering around the same story I've been selling myself since I was ten. I'm going to be an author and a film maker. I've got the books and the time and I'm actually finding myself with nothing better to do than to sit and read and study. The mind still wanders however and without deadlines of serious consequence, the only urgency I can generate stems from a vision of myself in ten years. Somewhere along the way I want to own property, a Bentley, a business. I've got all this time to plan and research and the days are zooming by . . . wow, I used to think time just flew when you were having fun. To think you can sense its rapidity from anxiety or speculation. It feels closer to waiting for a package to arrive that you've invested in, or crossing your fingers before they announce the lottery. The closer you get to committing yourself to a life goal, the more dreadful it seems. That fear might have been what's kept me diverted for so long. Courage being a virtue and defined in its spite of fear, would make the term "fearless" an inhuman quality. The lack of any emotion suggests a coldness that does not bend to the ego's wavering response to the dangers of the moment. Of course it's just one example I'm using to generalize the conditions, like doubt, that stamp out consistently progressive behavior. But I wonder if the distribution of monetary wealth isn't some indication of a play on the disconnect from our relative vulnerabilities. If you're sharp enough to make life a chess board, one you can see clearly and move with purpose, then what does that make you?
The important moments string together and make something as yet imperceivable. We can speculate and come no closer to realizing the balancing act of our potential weighing itself upon our decisions of courage and passion and fear. I've started to feel a guilt that grows around the hours that pass. Sometimes living starts to feel like being a part of a system you have no say in, when you get down to figuring out where the unhappiness comes from. And it's ludicrous that you'd have no say. But the alternative truth makes one pause. It's the pause that gets you, kills you if it can. I have to remember not to pause. It's OK to let the world know I got a clue and I'm using it. Maybe discipline comes down to not pausing. It comes down to faulting the argument for hesitation or moderation. I see people all around working so hard and digging themselves deeper into all forms of debt; to bad relationships, to jobs, to places they don't want to be in. It's hard to accept you can put that same effort into change, and it be OK with the world you've come to know. The paradox is it's not OK with your world and what you've accepted of yourself. Light can shine in from the outside and all it causes is trepidation at first and for a while after. If the only thing to put faith in is consequence, the despair can be strenuous if not fatal. But it's this pragmatic view that becomes evidence you're accepting control of what happens. If you can get rid of that buffer of pretext and misconception, the anxiety about the "what ifs," then the information they yield become relevant and strategically necessary to navigate your way out. Everyday yields opportunity to practice this control, no matter where you are.
"Discipline" has a bad connotation because to the average person it means forcibly doing something you don't want to do over and over again cause you have to. It doesn't portray favorable commitment, constitution, or desire because the word is beaten over the heads of individuals that can't relate: parents to children, bosses to subordinates, teachers to students. Discipline is demanded by the institution upon its dependents. There is no one word of equivalent describing when the dependent demands it upon the institution, or when the soul provides the imperative upon the body. No I'll strike discipline from my mind and see what I can do with desperation, obsession, rage and love and my own imagination to light the way. It sounds chaotic, but doing things for the sake of practicing a sterile behavior; being disciplined as an end in itself, is still submitting myself to a laborious use of my will as deemed beneficial by the standards of authority I forgot to recognize. Life should be an adventure, not a daunting practice. I can play video games religious. I escape everyday to the terms I prefer. Evidence exists that I can be dedicated to something. I just need to bring those terms home to me, and own them in the things that matter. Then discipline won't seem like a lash. It'll be a banner. And my faith in consequence will yield the spoil of production.
In the end, I as a young man with an open future, just want to declare myself something positive and forceful. Nothing is trivial.

I don't know what to write.

No. That's not true. It's not plain to me but it's there nonetheless. It's some thumping, clanking nonsense in the background. The only tangible material lies in the intent. It's most clear desperation is a stride toward legacy.

The ride is so important, so the ego frays before the dilemma of "how?" and "why?" relinquishing moments to translate the intent for the long view. It's easy to get caught up in wonder; the appreciation of life's mysticism. The quiet moments at 2am, when the pretenses fall and falling asleep feels like giving up, are the clues that the day and its distractions acted both as hiatus, and missed opportunity to fight for something closer, to the truth.

Today I quit my internship. I cut a loss of time ill spent. I'm 26. An internship without direct knowledge of the company or a strategy to win the hearts of its management is like donating life-times to the abyss of never-where. I try to find consolation in the lesson, that decision making should not be a passive consequence of external events. Were that lesson so easy . . . I've been wanting to sit still and write my business plans. My unemployment is running out, I have few games to claim my interest. I'm building the courage to jog again. My life has be a series of preparations and plateaus, but I won't stop believing that perspective can change the game. Not everyone ages well. Peel your lids back and find yourself racing a demon without regard for showmanship or declaration. In fact, the enemy of progression is silent; absence. The fight for legacy comes in simple moves, strategies, counterattacks, feints, presses and withdrawals. It's sort of wonderful when you take a step back. But I do wonder if that hand that articulates this tapestry isn't simply my willful own. Is idle deliberation a sign of the crazies? I wish someone had the authority to point that out. But I know I'd flip them the bird anyway. Being human is a trip. No wonder the signs don't come in plain English anymore.