A Janitor with Millions of Dollars: 500 Words a Day – Day 11
I want to start FB flirting with new girls, but I should wait. I am isolated over here, fearful that the world will finally take off without me. I need to get my licks in so everyone doesn’t forget about me. But I won’t. I’ll wait. 180 days without dating. The new regime involves being single and being ok with it. Leaving the day to day grid for weeks at a time for work projects and knowing inherently that I’m not missing anything, that nothing is changing and if I just focus on what I’m there to do that I’ll be as cool as those secret millionaires that take day jobs as janitors because they enjoy working with their hands.
Before every action is a thought and even before that thought is my own thought. But it’s hard to get to. It’s hard not to live for others. And people say they don’t, that they don’t care what other people think about them, but those people have no idea how the brain works, how wires are formed, and how before we were ever old enough to realize, we lost ourselves to the thoughts of others.
I run the risk of opening myself up to advice from people that are only protecting their fears in the form of instruction when I talk about areas that I’d like to improve. And to be honest, it’s really annoying because the advice typically comes in the early stages of their own progression, when everything is exhilarating and it’s hard not to talk about. The people I want to talk to are the ones that have been at it for a VERY long time. The ones that have been through the joy of a new discovery and watched it slip through their fingers only to find themselves alone with themselves again and no new tricks to turn to as distraction. And yet, they still got up the next day and went back to work because they realize that the journey is long and quiet and when you truly understand, so are you.
So why share? Because of all the above. I did something I like. I need to know if you guys like it too. If both of us agree then it can’t be wrong.
I was joking with my friend about hookers again last night because I find it a really fun word to say. And we were trying to determine if this one Facebook account was real or if it was a Russian hooker account – you know the ones with the girls and their fake boobs that only post selfies with huge lips and you look and see that all of their friends are males and then you look closer and see that one of the males is a guy you know from around town and you smile to yourself because you always knew he was a douchey perv but now you know.
After all this back and forth I went down to the hotel gym to work out and saw a real Russian hooker in there doing forward folds and thought this whole process of being alive is all too strange.
