I Will Not Waste Any Single Moment Alive

Hope you’re doing well, and hope all is working out for you. I am hitting for the fences, published another book, and pulled in eighteen hours of labor before I hit the sack for two hours and then doing it all over again. Luckily, I don’t waste my time trying to fall asleep; I do something that has shaped me and strengthened me, I meditate. At least twice a day, one full hour in the wee hours of dawn at work and the other thirty minutes, sometimes I can put in a few mini sessions. Anytime I get the chance, I meditate. It cleanses my mind, it rids me of the mental barriers, it annihilates this constant chatter. I discovered recently, while using ear plugs for the first time in my life, that there is a ringing, deafening tone that permeates through our consciousness, our internal dialogue. I’ve been hard at work, and plan to keep myself busy, go out and mingle, this is a time to rediscover myself. I ought to give myself some time apart, perhaps part ways. I did it at work, at home; I changed from my comfortable schedule 9-5 Monday through Friday, the only 9-5 with weekends off. I left all that and now I find it harder to keep up, it’s part of the process, I’m taking more responsibility and life isn’t just going to hand me a piece of the cake without me earning it. My mission is transformation and this usually means a great deal of sacrifice. I will still venture out, will cancel my 401K and invest that money myself. I will pick up running; I will pick this room up. I will pick myself up. I will work out like a maniac and buy myself the coolest pair of jeans and shirts like I have in the past, and treat myself right. Once this certificate comes through, I will be earning considerably more than now. And even now, it’s not that bad. But I want more. I will be more.
My purpose is propelling myself to the next level, meet people in the process and never fall in love with madness. Once something cool is over, move on quietly. I withdraw before the fighting and bickering begins, when there is no memory of pain. Up until now, things look kind of ugly, and so I think is best not to be a complete moron and show my face from text to text. It’s okay, no sex required. Take the week off. Let’s see if we can be adults about this. No love can survive the same routine played over and again. We ought to learn new tricks, see new faces. This is our chance to be something far greater than lovers or desirable strangers, it gives us the opportunity of being friends, something we never came around to. I’ve gone out: I screw up so many chances, like a girl next to me saying if I was waiting for her to speak, to forget it. That was hilarious. That girl was so full of life, and what is more important, she was surrounded by beautiful girlfriends. How could I screw that up? I turned my back, watched the game and they left when they mistook going out for a smoke for going home. As I walked in back in the place, they were exiting. They greeted me like they’ve known me for years. I said goodbye. I can do this goodbye gig for as long as the show still is on, and still wish you well. It’s not you and it’s not me, it’s how these things work. In the end, we better have a good relationship with ourselves in order for us to step outside ourselves and reach out for that you find desirable. But sometimes these toys have desires of their own, and friction rises. It’s no longer sexy tension, it’s friction, which can cause havoc, put a dent on your confidence, lower your morale, weaken you.
You’re the person I’ve communicated more things in years. Perhaps I was craving this so much that I forgot the golden rule: always leave them wanting more. It’s not a routine I run; it’s vital, critical, essential. A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets. That would defeat the effort. Also, where’s our freedom, the capacity to withstand the present pressures life hangs upon our shoulders and walk right into the night. It’s dark and scary, and you want to hold on to that which you find most familiar, the common pleasures past. Then you withdraw, like you said once to me in bed: “Don’t withdraw now.” It is something that, somehow, it kind of stuck. I think about it, as I do a thousand other things. Baby-sit my baby boy, take him out for a walk, work long hours, study for the FSD test, cancel my 401K, change the face of the earth in my room, and chop, chop.
When you’re overworked, you’re bound to make mistakes in some realm of life. The realm I most easily rid of is the emotional realm. I stick to my guns: I am a creature of reason. I practice it every chance I get. Best to know when to call it quits, and do so swiftly, and just get it done with.
So, I plan to go out there in the best shape of my life, dressed like a prince from top to bottom, and not spend a fortune while at it. I will work out more, put in more overtime, meditate even more, write more than I have ever in my life. I will not waste a single moment alive.
I want to seduce the finest girls, go home with a different one every other weekend and keep the ones that are most special close. No need for the intimacy; it's not like we never fucked. I plan to be an animal, and make no excuse of it. Take tons of pictures, post them on my social networks, Myspace and Facebook, and I plan to write a poetry book by the end of the year. Things have never looked any brighter.
My hands have healed; I quit smoking; lost nearly ten pounds, all from my belly! Friends are beginning to notice it.
And I know I owe some that newly regained self-steam to you. So, I thank you. Sincerely.