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“I´m going to quit”, I told him. (4/8/2018)

“I´m busy”, he replied, “tell me tomorrow.”

I chuckle as he tells me this story; yup, that´s how he is.


We exist in a point in a moment on a sphere in an abyss; what´s beyond the horizon of what we can see?

Is something waiting for us? A toddler taking first steps towards it´s parents, perhaps?

The sun holds us hostage in an elliptical orbit–are we stuck going down a drain? Can we pull ourselves out? Certainly, it can be determined that, incrementally, we progressively get nearer in every moment–what options do we have? Perhaps, that is the real question–are we stuck or can we do something? Maybe, the answer is not yet here–what will exist tomorrow?

I put the letter back down on the table; postmarked 2015 from Planet Earth.

I take my glasses off and rub between my eyes; I put my glasses back on.

Cause & effect.

The stranger in the kitchen turns his head back to me.

“Do you want to go back and change that point?”, he asks.

I sigh.

I turn my head to look out the window; I turn my head to the fridge; I turn my head back to the stranger.

“So”, I ask him, “why are you in my kitchen?”

He turns his head away, “I asked you a question.”

The doorbell rings; the police enter and handcuff the stranger; they leave.

My wife peaks her head around the corner from the hallway.

“Is it safe to enter?”

“Yeah”, I reply, “the police came again. We really need to get a better lock on the front door. This is getting old.”

“I know”, she replies.

She sits down and reaches over for the soda; pouring a glass, she sighs.

“I hope this person finally gets the help that they need”, she says as she takes a sip.

She reaches over for the potato chips; turns her head to look out the window.

“The hummingbird returned”, she casually remarks as she sets the glass on the table.

“Yup”, I reply as I recline the chair in the kitchen.

I close my eyes; moments later, I´m asleep.

The doorbell rings.


“So”, I ask the crowd, “does this makes sense?”

She raises her hand, “Yes and no.”

Continuing, “so time travel exists but we aren´t using it or it´s not useful or…. you know… I just don´t really get what you´re trying to say.”

I look away for a moment, then back to my laptop.

“Yes, yes, no, potato.”

“What?”, she replies.

“Yeah”, I reply, “I don´t know. Homework is due this Friday by 9pm Dorinto time.”

This is my first day teaching Dynamics. I want to make a good impression and set a high standard for the class. I think the key is to start on a good foot to get momentum, then this naturally leads to setting up something great that people want to live up to; motivation by example; people are taking notes; by making the class important, and a shared experience, I hope that it faciliates an atmosphere of creativity, with discipline, that helps leads to transforming the students into leaders–in their respective fields–on the journey to terraform the Universe, and see farther then we can today; beyond the Visible Universe–what exists?

I hit guadar on the keyboard; add the recipients to the email field; hit send on the laptop.

I hope it´s good enough.

“I remember this”, I think as the movie plays silently. (4/10/2018)

It´s the fourth movie in the series–7 Steps Out Of Wage Slavery. I remember when we were making it; the laughs, the good times, the moments. It seems like I would stop watching–as I can quote the whole thing–but, something brings me back as I recall the scenes.

Oh man, did I really?

I laugh at the scene where I fall down the stairs as I sneak to the kitchen to grab a 2am sandwich.

Hilarious!

This movie is propaganda and banned on Dorinto; it´s hard to come by, but we still get copies; after watching the movie, I have to place it in the trash outside and they come and pick it up in 0.38598 nanoseconds, normally.

It´s been a while since the thoughts, memories, and neurotransmitters were fabricated into this metal object; it´s hard to remember, at times, how it started. I had started writing down my memories for the future to look back; I had read that communicating in multiple languages potentially could alter the effects of the malfunction; so that´s what I tried. It worked, to a point; ultimately, I went ahead with the doctor´s recommendation and was given a more permanent fix to the problem.

These days, I watch this movie–when I can  get it. It´s said to look ahead, but I think that it´s important to keep one foot in the past; then with your body in the present, it forms a triangle: the most basic stable shape: three points. If you are able to add another, such as a spouse or friend, willingly, then you have a factor of safety of one; this does not mean that you are perfect, just that if one leg of your chair gives away, you still have the minimum to be ok.

HAHAHAHAHA

I can´t believe that I did that!

I laugh at the scene where we make the french toast assembly line; #true_story.

“Are you watching this again?”, my wife asks as I turn my head and see her on the stairs.

I look away.

“You have to stop”, she continues, “you can get in a lot of trouble, if they catch you.”

I turn my head back to her.

“This will be the last time.”

I don´t believe myself; I hope it´s true. What can I get, or do, to replace it?

I turn my head to my mountain bike in the corner of the living room: it´s you and I, baby.

I hit stop on the machine; take the DVD out; I put it in a black bag and place it in the garbage in front of our house; the trashmen don´t come in 0.39478 nanoseconds.

In 0.39479 nanoseconds, the trashmen come and take the bag; tomorrow will be different.

I turn around and take a step back towards my house; I guess this is day 0, and that will make it day 1 when I wake up.

I go back in my house; lock the front door; go up the stairs; get in bed; close my eyes; moments later, I´m asleep.


Opening my eyes, the first thing that I can see is that it´s cloudy.

It´s 9am.

Overcast… sigh… that´s ok…. it will…

I blink.

Let it go, I think, it´s just a movie.

I get out of bed and walk to the bathroom.

Estoy bien, I tell myself.


I arrive at the job placement office at 10:17am; I enter; add my name to the wait list; go to the coffee machine; 1 cream, 1 sugar; find an open chair and sit down; moments later, my name is called.

“Follow me”, he says as he ushers me into the hallway.

I follow him.

“This is my office”, he says as he opens the door.

I enter and sit down.

“First”, he tells me as he sits down behind his desk and turns on his computer, “what are you looking for and what do you do?”

I pause; what am I supposed to say?

Ok, I think, take a chance.

I lean back in my chair:

“When I am blogging, I write.

When I am with my kids, I parent.

When I am driving, I control myself and the spacevehicle.

When I eat dinner, I am present.

When I watch DVDs,  I”

“Excuse me”, he says as he turns his head to me, “you were saying something about watching DVDs?”

I pause; he slides his hand under his desk and hits a button; moments later, a person enters the office.

“We are done here”, he tells me.

“Take him out of here”, he says to the person.

I get up from the chair; I sigh.

“Excuse me”, I say as I turn to leave the office.

“Don´t say anything more”, he replies as he turns his head back to his computer in his office, “I´m not interested.”

The person leads me down the hallway; he opens the front door of the office; I am physically thrown out; I take seven steps and turn around; I could speak my mind?

I turn back around and head to my spacevehicle; let it go.

Moments later, I´m driving the spacevehicle back home; so this is day 1?

I sigh.


Further reading >> Bilingualism Appears to Protect the Brain from Alzheimer’s Symptoms, Study Says

“Well… it´s like a herd of waterbuffalo getting ready to run off a cliff–you should consider diverging from the groupthink.” (8/9/2018)

“I don´t think that waterbuffalo run off cliffs?”, I tell the writer as I lean back in my chair.

I turn my head to look out the window in the cafe; 12 surfers.

“How do you know?”, the writer responds as he takes a sip of coffee, “it could happen.”

“You know”, I reply as I take a sip from my taza, “what if the leader of the rampaging waterbuffalo herd has a parachute that he never mentions to the other waterbuffalo. They would prob be upset when they realize after they have gone off the cliff?”

“Still I don´t think you know what a waterbuffalo is so maybe they can fly?”

“A waterbuffalo flying?”, I say as I spit out my coffee, “how absurd!”

“Are you sure?”

“Actually not”, I reply as I pick up a napkin and wipe up the mess on the table, “you know maybe they´re like–Hey Bill. Hey Tom. This is going to be great–I heard a rumor that there´s straws in our drinks where we´re going. And then the waterbuffalo is like ´I love straws in my drinks!´and then all the other waterbuffalo shake their head in disapproval like an angry parent ´cause he, this waterbuffalo, just keeps talking about straws?”

“I mean”, the writer replies as he takes another sip of coffee, “you know–one moment you are running to get a mixed drink with a straw next thing you know–BAM! There´s a herd of your fellow waterbuffalo kind running and you´re like ´I don´t know where they´re going but they sure are enthusiastic about it–Don´t want to miss this!´”

“If you´re not the lead waterbuffalo”, I reply as I take a sip and set down my taza, “the view never changes.”

The writer chuckles; the waiter rolls his eyes.


“Aggressive people are, and end up, poor”, the pyschiatrist says as he shifts in his chair.

“Look at assertive behavior”, I reply as I lean back in my chair, “that´s a more solid strategy for success in life.”

“What about passive behavior?”

“What about it?”

“Does it go hand and hand with aggressiveness?”

“You know”, I reply as I lean forward and pick up my taza, “you´ll beat yourself up on the backside if you are aggressive–if you don´t value yourself, you won´t see, inherent, value in others.”

“What if you are assertive? What is the other side of that?”

“You respect yourself–you develop a rich, and prosperity, mindset.  You understand, and internalize, that where you are is not where you always will be–life is change; accepting that there will be change will position you for success, regardless of what may happen.”

“So you are saying that we should write how assertiveness is key?”

“I think that we need to stress that owning your life will put you in the driver´s seat–if you´re not there, you´re going to just be a passenger.  The passenger has less control over the agenda then the driver–did I ever tell you about waterbuffaloes?”

“No? That sounds interesting.”

“Well it´s not”, I reply as I set my taza down and recline my chair, “but long story short, if you aren´t the lead waterbuffalo, the view never changes?”

“Oh”, he replies as he types on his keyboard, “that definetely needs to be included.”

“I would have it no other way.”

“Hey–quick question”, he asks as he turns his head to me, “can they fly?”

“I head a rumor that waterbuffaloes have wings.”

“I think you´re masking your depression–what´s your house look like? Is it clean and put together?that´s a good indicator.” (8/26/2018)

“I´m glad you agreed to meet me for coffee-but I´m tired of this abuse”, the writer replies as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I thought you should know”, I reply as I lean back, “also–I think that people know and they are being nice to you because of it.”

“I hide it well”, he replies as he takes another sip, “I mean… I don´t know what you´re talking about.”

“It´s written all over your face–your mask is on display, not you”, I reply as I pick up the taza, “people can tell quickly, if they know what to look for, that it is insincere–between the poses for the camera, it´s obvious that there´s a different person.”

“I don´t pose”, the writer replies as he smiles.

“See! That there is manipulation–emotional manipulation to get me on your side.”

“I don´t know what you are talking about!”, he replies as he stretches his arms out into the air.

“And there”, I say as I take a sip from the taza, “that´s a power pose–you are attempting to assert your dominance over me. You want me to think that you are supreme to me.”

“It´s all lies that you say”, he replies as he puts his hands to his side, “you see things as you are.”

“It´s an interesting point that you bring up, writer”, I reply as I take a sip from the taza, “but you are asking for more money and power posing, and denying it–I think that I know a manipulator when I see one.”

The waiter hurries over; he hands me a menu.

“Here are the options for food”, he says as he points to the right side at the list of sandwiches, “you seem agitated–I think that you need to eat something.”

He smiles; I roll my eyes; the writer leans back.

“I will not be controlled–I am in charge of myself.  I own me.”

“Yes–but you will be happier if you also own a ham sandwich with a side of curly-cut fries.”

“Excellent arguement”, I reply as I lean back, “but I am going to pass–I think that you are using my pain for your own benefit.  I can handle it.”

“As you wish”, he replies as he takes the menu away and turns around.

“See”, I reply as I turn my head to the waiter, “everyone wants to capitalize on your suffering without regard to you.  They are in it for themselves.  You don´t exist but as someone who eats; consumes what they sell.”

I pause; why did I agree to meet writer for coffee?

“I think that this was a bad idea”, I reply to the writer as I set the taza down and lean back, “I´m going to be heading out in a minute.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a digitaltarjeta; he puts it in the air; the waiter comes over.

“One thing”, he says to the waiter, “I want you to purchase a sandwich to go for him.”

He turns his head to me; I roll my eyes.

“Please don´t.”

“I insist”, the writer replies as the waiter takes the digitaltarjeta.

“There you go again–not respecting my wishes.  I have dinner waiting for me at home and don´t want to spoil my appetite.”

The writer gasps; I had no clue.

“I had no clue.”

“Every behavior is caused by something; there´s a reason that you don´t know so you need to trust me.  We all are doing what we do.”

“That doesn´t make sense.”

“Yeah”, I reply as I lean back, “maybe that was too over the top.”

Moments later, the waiter returns; he hands me the small bag with the sandwich; I hand it to the writer.

“For your girlfriend, or your cat, or someone.”

I stand up; I reach down and pick up my bookbag; I turn and take a step to leave the cafe.

“Thanks for the thought.”

“Sometimes, you need to make a joke that is not particularly funny–yo–see how people react; the real hidden biases.” (4/17/2019)

“Well, Bilta”, I reply as I shrug, “I don’t think that’s why the chicken really crossed the road–you kiss your mom with that mouth, yo?”

“It’s not bad”, he replies as he takes a sip of fruit punch, “lighten up, yo.”

“Yeah”, I reply as I turn my head to look out the window of Bilta’s small studio apartment, “I didn’t like it–I didn’t find it funny.”

“Well”, he replies as he punches me on the shoulder, “no one asked you.”

“Ain’t that the truth”, I reply as I roll my eyes and take a sip of fruit punch, “so anyways… this isn’t that bad a party–I’m actually having fun.”

“Yeah”, he replies as he turns up the volume on the digitalstereo, “I know how to throw a kickass party, yo.”

“I don’t doubt what you believe–but, all the same, consider what people are saying.”

“Huh?”

“Your neighbors can see in your house–it’s a major sausage fest.”

“What?”

“You said that there would be other people here”, I reply as I sigh, “but it’s just me and you–like always.”

I sigh again; I take a sip of fruit punch.

“So anyways”, I continue speaking as I turn my head back to Bilta, “like no other people or velociraptors are coming?”

“I don’t think so”, he replies as he turns his head from his stereo to me, “looks like it’s just a couple dudes hanging out and having a great time.”

“I would probably say that the situation is slightly different then how you describe it–I mean… like what are you thinking?”

“About what?”

“Bilta”, I reply as I sigh, “what are you doing in your life? Have you thought about your future? Is this the pinnacle of where you want to go in your lfie?  This is what you wanted to be when you were young? Did you ever have dreams, yo?”

“Basically”, he replies as he takes another sip of fruit punch, “I’m pretty happy–like this is good.  I’m just a velociraptor–having a studio apartment on Dorinto is pretty fucking awesome.  You should see my family.”

I take a sip from my cup; he makes a mean fruit punch.

“Yeah–I know what you mean.”

“Maybe, you should relax a little on your expectations of me, boss.”

“I am a little uptight–I think that’s true, yo.”

“Slightly.”

“I would feel better if I punched you in the face.”

“Anger–that’s your crutch.  You don’t know anything different–one speed. From nothing to everything–from happy to pissed.  That’s your tell.”

“Tell what?”

“I mean–that’s how to beat you.  That’s the way to win against you–you don’t have a behavior that you do all the time–you just go straight forward too quick.”

“Huh, Bilta?”

“It’s easy to side-step a charging bull, yo.”

“Where?”

“In front of me!”

“When?”

“Yesterday–I think, yo.”

“Bilta”, I reply as I shrug, “get to the point–what do you want to really say?”

“I want to make more money.”

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