Focus Pocus

Time for a little ranting. Nothing like a solid bitch-fest to purge one’s soul of the endless supply of emotional toxicity we all love to generate.

You know what I liked the most about not having a full-time job?

Not having a full-time fucking job.

I’m not sure how people do this shit their entire lives, but after a month of it, I’m ready to play hobo again. Routine doesn’t seem to bring out the best in me.

But I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I’ve made a commitment to my new friends/bosses, and I plan to see it through till the end. And the extra cash will always come in handy sailing the oceans. Apparently Haitian hookers don’t accept coconuts for barter anymore. Bah, what a world…

It’s not so much the job that’s the problem, it’s the lack of time to work on projects I truly give a shit about. I have no qualms helping others or sacrificing my time to further the things important to them, but I’ve lost a balance necessary to keep my brain from gravitating to thoughts that the human experience is an exercise in complete fucking futility.

But whenever I find myself down, a change in perspective always seems to provide medicine to whatever mental illness is festering in my head. And that’s really what life comes down to — the way you choose to react to your situation at hand.

While pondering this “glass half-full/half-empty” philosophy, my roommate just kicked over his beer, and now we’re in an argument over whether the carpet is half-wet or half-dry. Bah!

Kidding aside, we need to remind ourselves we are always masters of our own fate — our thoughts, our choices, and our boneheaded decisions have put us exactly where we are, and it’s up to us to either be grateful for the opportunities awaiting on the horizon, or bitch and whine that life is tough, cruel, and unfair.

So many problems lie in wanting immediate gratification, and new technologies have done nothing but exacerbate our short attention spans and lack of patience.

But living is a process. Skipping “Step B” to get to “Step C” pretty much always fucks things up. Especially when working with Ikea furniture. Did I mention how much I fucking hate Allen keys?

We need to ground ourselves in whatever “step” we currently find ourselves in — embrace it, enjoy it, fully accept it, and love it. We need to remind ourselves each phase is transitory, which is the greater reason to be present to it, before it fades.  Always living for the endgame completely misses the point of playing.

Control is a complete illusion. We’ll never have whatever whims tickle our fancy appear instantly before us, and we’ll never have a guarantee that the things we take for granted will last indefinitely. Acceptance of our endlessly fragile state is the only way to ward off insanity.

So instead of going back to bed and trying to futiley escape this reality through unconsciousness, I’m getting my ass in gear to finish what needs to be finished. I’m slipping it into high-gear. Shit’s gonna get done — not because it has to, but because I want it to.

I’m excited to get my new book released, but I can’t touch that project until I finish editing another book that’s on my plate, which is going painfully slowly. But the more I immerse intentionality and purpose into it, the faster it will reach completion — like everything else in life.

My advice today? Focus on the now, and fuck the future. It’ll always be a bunch of empty promises. The path we currently saunter down is the only one that matters. Embrace your challenges of the day, and put your anxiety about the unknown twists down the road deep in your backpack. Stress serves no purpose but to ruin the only time we have — right now.

Although there’s more I could add to this post, like how much I hate 80 year-old cocksuckers ordering well-done filet mignon, I have bigger fish to fry at the moment.

How ’bout some words of wisdom from Dr. Seuss to end this spiel…

“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep, because reality is finally better than your dreams.”

Peace out homies.