karpet

selfishly, id love to hear more. what do you mean?

I just figured out that I don't have to change my thinking, only the way I communicate my thinking.

11 days out from hell period I don't feel like I am crushing it. I am also not messing up. not messing up is not winning. not messing up is zero. Getting out of debt and getting to zero was an amazing feeling. Being here does not feel amazing. I'm drinking more coffee and more caffeine in general. I do not think that is winning. I do not feel like this entry is going anywhere. I bought more lentils. I suppose the point of being out of hell period and crushing it needs to be put into context. I still have 9 and a half months left till I am done school. I've only covered about 4% of the time I have left. BUT... I've gone 100% of the last 8 and a half months of not messing up. Gary V says you should question or be upset with yourself after 24 plus months of trying. I've only done 8. I have many many more months. I am doing more things i enjoy (learning french/busted out my sketchbook/reading/school/family/hanging out with awesome people - new awesome people) so its not as if I am failing, and by some measure, I am doing better. However, the whole point of the choice I made to be on this journey was to crush it. I guess though, I should ask myself in 16 months time if I have crushed it and continue now to do work. DO WORK. BE AWESOME. ciao.

I think it could also be said that what you are doing quitting games is a sort of changing the environment of your mind. not the deepest thought, but if you can see the value in changing your physical environment and have physically experienced a benefit, you can make that leap that you are doing the same thing with your mind,and you should also expect to see gains in that act.

I'm a pretty big fan of letting new things come into your life instead of forcing them. I find when I look at the world curiously, it has something to show me.

one day at time as they say. the world is an exciting place, it just takes some time to see that. question, calibrate, repeat. good luck.

re: french. learning French has taught me that I say too much in English. I've enjoyed as I mentioned above superfluously using English. Saying everything. However by saying everything, ultimately I'm saying nothing. First, there is the idea of leaving something on the table, like one might in a negotiation. I suppose in a way it is like fishing. If you don't say everything it gives a greater chance for people to say something, contribute, ask questions. People generally like being heard and accommodated for. That void is essential for communication. Lastly though, its the void that is most terrifying. Inherently, the void allows for people to judge me, or reject me. I have felt that at least if I am complete or try to be complete, then the rejection of me is the issue of the other because I've fought to be heard. The fact that I tried, and have not succeeded would be evidence that I have been rejected, and consequently failed. I am at fault. The problem of the other is actually the problem of me. I only came to this conclusion yesterday. I have however been experimenting with not saying everything. it seems to be valid enough. again though, it's the lacking. a sense of lacking in myself, a lacking of completeness. It drives me mad, but it is a commonly occurring topic in my life. I do find it odd just how deep that sense of lacking permeates. I endeavor to continue my reformed speaking. restraint.

I guess I'll talk about french strangely, You decide how your life is going to be. You decide what you can do what you cant do what you will do and what you should do. I've done this time and time again. it is not strange for me to think about or do. One day I woke up and decided. Okay, I can speak french. Okay Okay, it wasn't one day, I said it a few times. but one day I connected with it. hard. I know I cant speak perfectly. but I can't speak English perfectly either. And one day, through circumstance, I found myself talking English. Actually it was a lot of work. but, my situation bread the reality where I had to learn English and be good at it. I think its important to think about that. because, at some point I had gotten over my impediment, and spoke... and spoke, and spoke, and spoke. I think its all I've ever done. It took a lot of confidence to talk (and write) and I think I wasted a lot of time talking and writing because my head got too big. now, I remember vividly the struggles and work I had to do to become good at English, it was a real pain point. but I also remember the joy I felt (referenced above with my head getting too big because I found a great amount of joy over coming that issue) and I am lucky now, that I can experience maybe the reverse of this. By accepting I can speak, I can move forward learning how to speak better. read better, write better. This is something I want to do. Why? It fits into the image I have of my life. I think a person (a man, me) of the world ought to know about good food and wine, speak a few foreign languages, play an instrument, be artistic (drawing/photography/painting/etc), well versed in the classics, be handy with their hands (fix machines), be current with world events, all the while succeeding at their career and sharing their lives with rich (not money specifically) individuals. I've got some of this, I can improve in others, pick up the rest. that's all I got for now.

pretty chill day. spent reading week learning about the oil and gas industry and improving my french. I'm pretty happy about my french because it is really coming along. I should talk about it more in detail later. I just wanted to write something. Going to see a friend later today. I'll probably journal afterwards.

something I wrote months and months ago, I read it over today, I think its great. I did drugs, I did them very frequently. I spent money I didn’t have, I spent all the money I could on drugs. I like drugs, they’re fantastic and I think more people should do drugs. I like drugs because they unlock a vision of what is possible for the human body to experience. With enough practice and focus an individual can reach whatever state they desire through their own means without drugs, but its drugs that allow you to realize what is possible. The biggest downside to drugs, outside of giving the perspective of what is possible, they do very little else. In effect they do virtually nothing both on the upside or the downside, a person could in theory forever be stuck in a limbo of sorts, depending on where that limbo is it could actually be quite awesome. I didn’t stop doing drugs because I couldn’t go on so to speak, in the made for tv movie drama kinda way. Depending on how you live your life what social and economic bracket you are in, doing drugs is a non-issue. Essentially, I could live my life forever being a functioning drug addict and not really cause any massive waves. There’s a certain reality, where people who ascribe to it, see it as a non-issue, because ultimately it is a non-issue. Again in reference to the above, it doesn’t add or subtract anything. Such might be the case made for designer jeans, they’re something, if and only if they fill in the narrative. I can tell you there’s nothing special about a sheet of cotton assembled by teenagers in Romania worth the $400 I spent on a pair of jeans. But, if you choose to ascribe to the ideas of craftsmanship, marketing hype, exclusivity, design, or materialism then obviously designer jeans fill in the narrative you have in your mind. Small minds. That’s what makes the whole story of drugs so ridiculous. The laws, the gangs, the murders, the life. It’s like the newspaper that’s written at a grade 8 level that 80% of the population reads to discuss over the instant coffee, coffee break. Really, you really care about ISIS? But going back to the beginning, I like drugs (I REALLY LIKE DRUGS), I like them because they… Expand the mind. But that’s fucking trite if you never use that insight and never endeavor for greatness. In little rooms all over the globe ex-junkies huddle together mumbling fucking odes to an idealized life, a normal life. Really, you spent $30,000+ a year because you wanted to feel normal? Fuck me. I for one want to be fucking fantastic. AND HERES THE THING. I know I can. Why? CAUSE I DID DRUGS. Mind you, that feeling –while possible- is EXTREMELY easy when doing drugs. Why every morning did I feel like a bag of shit? Probably cause I fucking realized, that the greatness I felt came at no cost. I stopped doing drugs because I wanted to feel the pain and suffering of working towards greatness. I wanted to achieve greatness through effort, work, and sacrifice. I stopped doing drugs cause I knew I could go on, that I’d get there, that there were enough resources available to guide me along to reach the states I wanted to reach but only if I worked at it. There are no bad days, only days to iterate on. Go buy those drugs, go do those drugs, revel in that shit, experience all the fucking drugs, figure out what feels best and spend the rest of your life chasing it through hard fucking work. Or don’t, whatever.

so much of our life is the narrative that we tell ourselves. At the age of seven I started acting. from the age of 7-15 I was a gainfully employed actor. I did tv shows, commercials, and movies. It is not an easy life. Generally speaking I would have 3 auditions a week which meant memorizing 3 sets of lines, presenting myself in front of casting directors 3 times a week, and getting rejected 3 times a week. weekends were spent attending acting seminars where I was to develop my craft, then when I actually got a job it was 16 hours on set. Because I was a union member I was entitled to union rates and if I am not mistaken at the time the base rate was $80/hour. It was good. But, it was also expensive. Head shots, management fees, gas/transport, acting lessons were all part and parcel of the gig. I was lucky enough to spend the remainder of my earnings building a cedar strip canoe with my grandfather when I was 16. I think I maybe broke even in the industry. A core thing happened at the age of 15 when I moved from the city I was living in to the city I was born in. I decided that I needed to be a kid, ride my bike, hangout, and have fun. This was actually something I needed to do, but it wasn't what my peer base in my high school was doing. Everyone I went to high school with was focused on getting good grades, saving money, and getting into university. This meant girls too. At the time I couldn't understand for the life of my why I wasn't getting a date. Now when I go on Facebook, and see the girls I was chasing have rock solid careers in one of the toughest labor markets in the country, and also have condos in the most inflated housing market in the country, I can understand what they were doing, and why hanging out with me wasn't as big of a priority as setting themselves up for the future. But I didn't understand any of this at the time. I thought there was something fundamentally wrong with me. I left the city I was born in and returned the city I am in now. I worked, I saved, I had fun, but I also aimed to get back to the city I was born in. another horrendous thing happened, I moved back to the city I was born in! I had been gone 4 years at this point, and everyone I knew had finished university and were on the next phase of their life. So, while I had spent 4 years thinking something was wrong with me, that gap between me and everyone else, that same gap I experienced in high school, widened. This widening only further baked into my mind the idea that there was something wrong with me. I was devastated. I didn't deal with this gap well. I didn't deal with life very well. I couldn't abstract the idea that I was on my very own unique path, that I couldn't compare myself with other people because I hadn't experienced what other people had experienced. I didn't have the mindset to look at myself and my journey in its completeness, nor the journey and mindset of others and make a comparative analysis. I had spent about 8-10 years up to this point thinking there was something wrong with me. It's a shitty problem to have because all kinds of people come out of the woodwork offering a solution of sorts. different shapes, and different offers, but all the same. hope is the most addictive drug on the market. it can totally sidetrack you from getting to where you need to go. by writing the above it helps to put into context my life. I'm fortunate this time round in my journal to have thought about this narrative for quite some time so I know that it is a complete idea. I'm mostly documenting it for posterity's sake. It's tough to stand and survey the land, and realize things are good. its tough to create a new narrative, and its tough to make it. ultimately though, you gotta do it.

so, typically the period from Christmas to my birthday is the darkest period of the year for me. one, its winter so its actually quite dark out, but second the whole holiday season I have negative views towards. Obviously I should change my views so I can enjoy life more. I am not going to recount my foibles of December to my birthday pasts. suffice to say, they suck. so, on my journey towards uber success, I've always questioned whether or not I would make it, like really, will I make it? like make it make make it. you get the idea. So I figured if I could just get through Christmas to my birthday with no hiccups I would actually be successful. That by making it through, I would have "tested" myself sufficiently, and that I was on the right path, and that if I continued to do what I was doing, whatever I am doing, success was sure to follow. today is my birthday. I made it. I will make it. success is inevitable.

I'm pretty fixated on the year and a half I worked in coffee and how much of a waste of time it was. I have dubbed this The Worst Year and a Half of My Life. So, I worked at this shop that was the bees knees of coffee. I came to it from wine. In wine, I had spent several thousands of dollars learning and getting my palate effectively certified. What I mean by this is that a governing body who deals with training people to use their palate for effective decision making on product purchasing and other core business functions, trained and tested my palate, and I was successful in completing this, thus allowing me to contribute meaningfully to the world of wine based on the fact that I could taste things. Now, going to work at a coffee shop, who positioned themselves as quality focused, and where having a clearly identified functional palate is super important in quality control, roast profiles, purchasing, etc. effectively the one skill i had to bring to the table that would have made the most impact, didn't seem to fucking matter. I got zero traction. It was dope being a barista, but then I got moved to the bagging of coffee, by hand. This was done under the guise of being around the inner workings of the industry so I could learn more. Yet, who I was surrounded by had effectively no sort of certification or validity in their opinion other than experience that couldn't be quantified or measured in any valid way. What I mean by this is that the main proprietor spent 6 months working as a barista at a no name shop, and then all the sudden became like gods gift to coffee. how? who trained you? how did you get exposed to what good coffee was living in a small hick town with NO access to quality coffee? the story is great on the side of the bag, but in reality, like, what makes you an amazing coffee person? So, the situation didn't really make much sense. To further complicate the matter, I got a pay cut. The idea was that being in this new position was going to be more time intensive, and as such I would make more money. Well, this wasn't my first job, and it certainly wasn't my first laborious job so I was able to improve processes in such a way that I had cut the expected time to complete the task IN HALF, effectively further cutting my own pay. Then, seeing that, seeing that I was adding value, and that I could work, I was being tracked to $50k a year to be a warehouse manager... which by the way, the guy that took over my job more than 5 YEARS ago is still doing. AND FOR WHAT??? to fucking work in coffee? to rub shoulders against the brilliant mind of the proprietor? fuuuuuuuuuuck that. Anyways, I'm pissed, I guess because secretly I wanted to find a home there. I didn't get that, but I think I could have, had I changed my perspective a little. or, changed something about myself, maybe I could have found a home there. Part of me wants to think you shouldn't change who you are, but then part of me wonders what I am doing right now? I think the best way to identify what I am doing right now isn't so much changing who I am, but rather distilling my essence, or like making a reduction (think sauce) on the superfluous. So, Im not changing who I am, im focusing on myself. Now, I'm getting into some weird territory, but stuff to think about. Also I feel I should close the loop on the city thing. I thought about it some more, and certainly one of the issues that I have is this relationship with my mother and her story, and how her story affected me, and who I am as a result. Part of historically wanting to go back to another city was the fact that, that's where I felt my home was, and I kind of felt like going back there was justified as like "well, I gotta do whats right for me, like you did what was right for you". I decided to take a much longer term view, and think about how I would feel at the age of 60 or 70 thinking back on not being apart of the last good years of my mothers life... How much of a dick would I feel? also, how much of a dick would I feel about not spending time with my mother, or being around to help her, because she did something a million years ago. I'd feel like a giant dick, and quite frankly, I don't really want to spend the last years of my life living in regret that I treated my own mother poorly cause I was too pathetic of an individual to see the awesomeness around me and contribute to it. I feel like this is a really good position to have, mind you, if like I got a dream opportunity I would certainly review my thoughts on the matter, but for now, this suffices.

So many thoughts about that, but an accurate point.

Things are going to be all right. I lament about or have lamented about living in the city that I live in. It's not the greatest city, its not the worst city, its just a city. It's that middle feeling that drives me up the wall. But fundamentally its a place where a person can do something and be okay. My biggest gripe is that I'm going to live a good life. My grandparents did well here, my mother did well here, logically it should follow that I too will do well here. Somehow that idea was like no go in my mind. But, what right do I have to complain about living a good life, Like oh no, my city is not another city! it's quite silly. Things are going to be good. I have to go to class, so I can't finish thinking this out, but, also I just had the thought so I haven't flushed it out fully yet.

this writing thing at 4 am. Anyways. Things are better. much better. sometimes you just gotta get it all out. Nothing going on. Have a midterm coming up on Wednesday. I've totally run out of money, so I need to figure that out soonish. I guess I wont be smoking due to lack of funds. so, I gotta figure that out. fun fun.

I guess I should talk about that meeting with my friend that I hadn't seen in 14 years. The entire time I was on the verge of crying. Even thinking about it makes me want to cry. When I think back to who I was when I was 16 and the way my life turned out to this point, it doesn't seem fair. I sound like a whiny bitch for saying that, but that's the emotion. That it doesn't seem fair. It doesn't seem fair that I couldn't stay in Vancouver, it doesn't seem fair that I didn't get to stay around my family, it doesn't seem fair that I lost all of my friends, it doesn't seem fair that I went to the high school that I went to, that I got the grades that I got, that I didn't have more privilege. I know all the things I'm saying sound super ridiculous, but those are the emotions. Those are the things that make me want to cry. What makes me not cry? the realization that the story hasn't been written yet, that I'm not finished, that my life isn't permanently the situation that I find myself in. that I am strong, that I am capable of almost anything. That I am smart, that I have drive, that I am teleological. I still feel really fucked from the encounter. I wrote in my paper journal a list of things that were going to be dangerous for me, or things that would challenge the growth that I was on. One of the things i wrote was people from my past coming out of the woodwork. I had messaged this guy in july he didn't respond, and then I messaged him again like last week. maybe I shouldn't have messaged him again, maybe I should have taken it as a sign. But I did, and I didn't think about my journal entry until the day we planned to meet, or maybe the day before. But here I am, dealing with this thing, that's really hard to deal with. Above, I wrote sort of how I feel, but I haven't really resolved this. I suspect though, this is why many people from my past may not wan to talk to me. There's always an upside to a situation and if it means I now have empathy for all the people I once knew, then that's gotta count for something. (long pause) I recognize now, that that was the happiest I have been in my whole life. I look forlornly at mountains, hah, not even real mountains, photos of mountains. I am still wearing the pants I had on that trip, I'm wearing them right now, I use my multi-tool almost weekly, I still have my hiking boots and even some underwear from 14 years ago. I keep these things around as a reminder I guess. A promise? -this is totally getting morose. but this is cathartic in a way too. I'm sorry you all have to see this. I peaked when I was 16. typically when I hit this level of recognition, especially if there are physical objects attached with my memory, the first thing I do is destroy the objects so as to destroy the self. I'm not doing that. nor am I going to do that. I will not destroy these items. part of me thinks this is the exact time I should burn these possessions because if I destroy the only time i was happy then I'll have nothing and by having nothing I can grow. but the other part of me says 1st. all this stuff is useful. 2nd I cant keep doing what I've always done. objects and memories don't define who I am. I can't be afraid of the past. Is this just my weakness showing through, is this just my mediocre inner demon allowing me to keep mementos of the last time I was truly happy, so that I can spend the rest of my life looking back on these, or not even looking back, but having them on me so as to feel that I never really left, that time hasn't passed, that I'm still a 16 year old boy? this is fucking dark. (long pause) The fucker tried to link personal success to shedding the dead-weight of a few meager belongings with sentimental value. but, the value these things posses is more than sentimental, the actually have real value, I don't own a pair so scissors, I have a multi-tool. quick-dry pants? they are awesome at home for lounging. and do I really need to talk about the value of underwear. nope. the possessions are around because they provide value to my real life. I am however going to attach a promise to my multi-tool, and that promise is to ensure that the experience I had on those mountains when I was 16 isn't the only one I ever have like it. simple. I said it was the happiest I have ever been in my whole life. It's more complicated than that. It was the amalgamation of yearning, self-actualization. hope, and a bunch of other fun words. But I know what it was, and I've had similar experiences bicycle school in oregon (of which I still have my apron from the shop, and a baller set of tools), and wine school (still have books, and some wine in a cellar). I feel more at peace now. but still and I'm looking at you multi-tool, don't fuck it up.

Why's that? I would like to be able to explore the depths of my mind without scrutiny or a link to and from the outside world. --Journal-- I went on facebook today. Saw that a person I knew died. One, he died youngish, he was 60, maybe 59. two, I knew him in sort of a nefarious way. It feels like a lifetime ago. Its funny how 2009 to now can seem like a lifetime ago. It's funny how I feel a separation of really only 8 months from my own nefarious past which further exaggerates the separation from 2009. I suppose lifetimes in this case aren't measured in chronological time. This brings to light another thought. I've always looked at my past (paths,mistakes,successes,etc) with the outlook of "well, that's made me the person I am today" and it's cousin "well, I wouldn't be where I am today without those choices". these views downplay the negativity of my past as well as downplay the impact of my positive choices that arguably got me to where I am now. I feel like => "well, that's made me the person I am today" & "well, I wouldn't be where I am today without those choices" are "loser" statements. I don't yet have a better word to describe those sentences so loser is a working usage. I think its important to recognize that my world view is informed by my past. I think its important to recognize that I have a past. but, I dont think I can say with great confidence that my past is what has gotten me to my present, or my past actions have gotten me to my present state. or ALL of my past actions have gotten me to my present state. that, ALL of my past actions are important. This is a really tough activity, and I am sucking at it. but I think there are some kernels of truth here, and I think that isolating them, and growing them are going to provide more growth later. so. here they are. okay. done.

I'm probably being crazy, but I'd like to keep this journal as removed from my real life as possible.

I'm having way too much fun

oops I closed the window on my old post, then didn't reopen it for a while and now I have to rewrite. so, pumped. When I was 16 went on mountaineering trip, my friend on the trip lived far away, so we never saw each other. he now lives in same city as me and we are hanging out tonight! bonus. Having so much fun on twitter, access is unreal. slowly connecting with people that I want to connect with. slow uphill grind, but those are the best grinds. shaved my head, but kept my unruly beard. Can't tell if I look bad ass, or crazy. doesn't matter, confidence == number 1 accessory, second most important accessory is a smile. have fun guys

things are good. There's this idea that when things go lopsided it's actually you acclimatizing to change. so, not every day is flat. I've found this a useful frame work for dealing with non-ideal circumstances. I don't mean to say that my circumstances are less than ideal, only I feel less than ideal at the moment. Not at this moment, but generally in the last couple of days or weeks things have been feeling less than ideal. Feeling I think being the key word. but again, refer to second sentence. so, if anything I'm acclimatizing. To what I am not too sure. I'm hoping it's success. Or if not success some weird cousin that will put me in contact with success.

totally want to start a lifestyle brand called 100%UPSIDE it only has one message: You aren't a rational actor, quit making rational choices. See everything you want to do as having 100% upside.

@Cam Adair so many great movies to watch!

so, by any measurable statistic I am very far from being successful. I do however have a mindset for, or am developing a mindset for success. One of the things I've heard is that it's lonely at the top. being alone in the sense of not being around other people doesn't bother me. What does get me though is the psychological warfare the self plays on its self. This warfare of the self plays out constantly when I am alone. Worst yet, it attacks the very being of being alone. It tells me I'm alone cause I'm no good, it tells me I'm gross, it tells me I am delusional, it tells me I'm a failure, its unrelenting in its attack of me. I know I'm going to make it, I know these voices aren't real. It's like the ultimate mind over matter game. This is the biggest thing that I knew was going to happen when I started this journey. Not playing games, not drinking, not doing drugs weren't really the challenge. The challenge was going to be looking into the abyss. I posted that quote on my facebook last year 2014, december 30th. I've known for quite sometime that this was the challenge. Maybe a year ago I wasn't ready to face it. Now I am. Now I am facing it, and it's dark. Again though, I'm going to make it, and I can take this shit in stride. I'm relatively certain I'm not going to go out and do anything overtly damaging. As well, I've made some interesting transitions away from more subtle forms of damaging behaviour: I'm not spending oodles of time on imgur or youtube, I'm eating more regularly, etc. I do question my involvement with twitter, it has the potential to devolve into the negative realm, I addressed that in an earlier post. Ultimately the darkest issue, and the one that resides all the way at the bottom is: what if it's all for naught? This isn't about a metaphysical reality, or a contemplation of Buddhist ideologies, or some inner-space navel gazing. What I mean is what if I don't get what I want. What if I've thrown away all the things I really enjoy, lived as a hermit, committed myself to a path that ultimately has no yields. It's one thing to change direction, but you can't get time back. I trust that what I am doing is the right thing to do, but what if it isn't? you get burned. the end. It happens to some people. it could happen to me. but, right now, I can only go off of what I know, and I trust myself and my decisions. you can only do what the information you have available leads your conclusions to. I've spent significant amounts of time thinking about this, wrestling with this, and given all that I have available to myself, this path makes the most sense. so, there isn't really anything to freak out about. good luck guys!