Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Botchla 2.0


Botchla 2.0

I haven’t blogged in a bit. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but there was so much going on. Let me look back at my schedule and realize what it was.
It’s hard for me to ever say ‘I’m done for the day’. I know I was incredibly blessed before, but I gave into what I was warned against. The words “mental illness” don’t help me picture a coward anymore. I blew my chances. To get another one feels like a kindness I don’t deserve. I don’t let myself rest because of that. Slowing down makes me feel ungrateful for what I’ve been given.
I need to shake that.
Why do I care so much about posting? The calendar’s full. I’m doing well. In fact, I have more than my fair share on the plate.
It’s about documenting it. This life is fleeting. Take pictures. Write some of it down. You’ll forget all of it tomorrow.
You, indeed, have made my days short in length,
and my life span as nothing in Your sight.
Yes, every mortal man is only a vapor.
“Certainly, man walks about like a mere shadow.
Indeed, they frantically rush around in vain,
gathering possessions
without knowing who will get them.
23rd I went to Costa Rican immigration to do an interview. My interview consisted of three hours of waiting in life and then writing my name on a piece of paper.
Could you imagine Leonardo Da Vinci with the internet? Writing backwards, linking things, and all the useless blueprints he’d cut and paste like we’d care?
24th I did four lessons in the morning, then I shot the poop with Jack Welch. It’d been too long. I worked out for a couple hours, then I studied the Bible. I finished my day updating my records. I was pleased to see how the past Sunday had gone.
I was reading about Martin Luther’s life the other day. He went mad while reading and rereading scripture, trying desperately to understand. It saddened me.
Then I went and poured over more hand histories while talking to someone who I couldn’t see. I wrote more things down, next to other things I wrote down. I sent off a portion of my writings. I grieved for not being able to watch a training video.
It’s oh so different. I deserve respect. Money is involved!
25th I took the day off. I went to the University here and played tennis versus a student of mine. It was one of those courts where we hit it against the wall and had to get out of the way of each other. I had a lot fun, even though I lost both games. I ran too far away trying to get out of the way.
We went to the movie theater at a more fresa mall around here. I was psyched to see Django, because I’m American and blood is funny. On the website it said it was starting at 1:30. I got there at 1:35. The snooty gay kid behind the counter delighted in telling me the movie was at 1:00. I wanted to yell, “what is wrong with you people? Everyone checks the times online now! Could you manage to update it once in a while!”
My fiance and her friend found out there was nothing showing. Instead of watching a spaghetti Western where people got shot I was treated to maternity clothes (not for my fiance) and preparing the please-buy-us-this-stuff list for our wedding.
I told my fiance to buy tickets to Life of Pi or whatever that movie was about the tsunami. I figured they were better movies to see with two women.
They pulled me out a bookstore later to say we were going to Django, because of Life of Pi was in Spanish and I seemed psyched for this. Alright!
Then I’m watching a guy getting his arm ripped out with Leonardio Dicaprio cheers with buck black teeth. The blacksploitation humor is going over everybody’s head. I’m the only one laughing at Samuel L. Jackson. My fiance goes “how long is this movie?” I want to see it end, but I’m embarrassed I dragged us all the way out to this far-off mall because it was the only one showing Django. I wonder if the movie is going to force our pregnant friend into early labor.
My fiance gets a call. She starts crying. She says we have to go. Everyone sees me leaving with a crying woman and assumes it’s because of the movie. I hear a Costa Rican go, “…we shouldn’t watch this. It damages our brain.”
The phone call was about a hit-and-run. Someone I knew very well was in the hospital. I don’t care to go into details, because it’s not my place to blast these things out for the world. It’s not my family. It seems like a private matter.
Walking into the emergency room, looking at a gap in the ceiling that revealed a pipe marked, “agua negro”, I had one thought: I never want anything I write to be carelessly connected to a moment like this.
25th, no the 26th. I woke up and did another bunch of lessons. I studied the Bible. I prayed more than usual. I wanted to play cash games, but I didn’t have it in me. I went to my fiance’s family’s house to celebrate her brother’s birthday.
27th I went to church. They had a lunch afterward which I said I’d check in. They were very nice people. I told them about my life on the road, and how I met some of the richest people they could imagine. They were all miserable. Then I detailed how I got off the tour.
I went home and played Sundays. I literally lost with AA AIPF five times in a row. I recorded me later on, for a Pocarr presentation, and to make sure I kept my cool. I glided into a no cash Sunday. No, one, for $60.00. Record keeping wasn’t going to be as fun this week.
I went for a run up the hill here. Halfway up I felt like vomiting. I could taste all the coffee I drank that day.
Helpless, I started The Hunger Games at home. It made me want to write, because, somewhat arrogantly, I thought, “I could do this.” The simplicity of her writing is what makes her great however. Maybe I just read too much. I’m a hipster. Everything is overwrought in my mind. This is a sacred text to someone. I think I could do this, but I haven’t, because I’m a wannabe on the sidelines.
28th, I feel like garbage when I wake up. I clean the house, shave, clean myself, and it doesn’t help. I do six hours of lessons, two in my group study. I have a headache the entire time. I’ve never so thoroughly felt the blood pump through my temples.
I’m worthless after six hours of holding back the same coffee from the previous night. I haphazardly read Hunger Games and fall in and out of sleep. Gold eyeliner. I’m mean to people when I wake up. I pass out early.
29th, today. I feel great. I do a bunch of lessons, get a great fish lunch, write my new Bluff article (the rough draft), finish making my Pocarr lecture for tomorrow, play an hour of cash (lost 70), and now I’m writing this blog.
So that’s it for now. I am officially caught up.
My Plugs: Check out my vids at Pocketfives Training, contact me for lessons at assassinatocoaching@gmail.com, see other stuff I write with my friends at www.pokerheadrush.com, and follow my Twitter @TheAssassinato and Facebook at www.Facebook.com/Assassinato

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