Lazy monday before work

So, it's almost 9 am, and here I am, watching myself write. There is a general chaos, typical of a morning before work: I have to clean the cat litter, take out the trash, there are dozens of little projects, my garden needs water, etc. My primary objective is enjoying my coffee right now, checking my pressure. There is no sweet bread to eat, so I might go down and buy some.

I am worried about money. They took off one day and several hours from my job, and now I'm earning under 2k pesos per week, with a rent that is 4k per month. That means that if I don't find secondary sources of income, we are going to be eating rice and beans for a while, and that's no fun. 

Also, I have to think about going to the USA this coming month. I want to re-instate my SS money is possible, and make inroads to writing jobs like I used to have, although the whole Hollywood industry has changed.  My job suffices for what I am doing now, but not for what I want to do.

Mom's death took away the "emergency" of having to find cash, and the 18+ years took out my ambition to be wealthy. At 53 I am more concerned with my health and having enough time to write what I like to write. My dreams of a psychedelic clinic are all but quenched, and I realize that the important work I am doing is to help Rajasthali and Nandadulal get a life. What life expects them in a word full of pandemics and political madness? The best world I can create for them. All I have to give them is my own example. 

This year, with mother dying, it has been all about realizing my own limitations. I spent decades in a kind of narcissistic dream of how bad-ass I could be, and all the things I could accomplish. Now, I am looking back and realizing that I'm not that bad ass after all. Where is all the money? Where is all the fame and fortune? 

Mom's illness was so hard to take that all other desires were put into the backburner. All ambitions, business, concepts for making money, all of them were left behind, and what remained was what helped me support her during her death: telvista and renting cars. Now that is over and I have to consider that I have quite a few years left to better our situation somehow, but I have no clue how to do it yet. My YouTube channel is null. More a family channel to remember our days of old. My tarot shops are over. And Telvista takes so much time out of my hands that I have little time but to write, for instance, what I am feeling right now. So I have to create new projects, give them energy and time and make them work.  

We'll see.  For the moment, I have to think of Christmas and paying the rent on time. 

 

13 minutes before work

There is a weird kind of desperation on my job. Once the phone calls start, there is absolutely no creative or active playful energy because it's one call after another and I must pay attention to the client at all costs. It's a bit like driving a car. You can do it easily, but you can't keep your eyes off the road or you kill yourself. No time.

Time.

I count the minutes. It's 10:40 and in exactly 10 minutes, I must begin my foraey into listening to people complain about their rental cars. This morning, I looked over at my projects - nothing outstanding. Nothing new. Just a few little stories that I have to finish. But when I had no job, the ideas came one after another. And of course, the tragedy is that those ideas make no money. There is no way to make money with my stories. Or at least, I don't see it clearly. 

I have written a lot of stories over the years. Some I have been paid for, like the STAR ROVER and the Gary Davis story. Most, I've done because I've had to, like Lollipop and Om'Haha. 

It takes time.

It takes time to dream them up. And that time is about over right now. I have to focus on more important things. Renting cars.

I have to change my life and I am not certain how to do it yet. Rasa did a reading a few days ago and it was very clear that I must "rest" - which means not do anything harsh, not go to the states, not move into a different job, those kind of things. I must rest. 

I wrote RAGESTORM in Crestone, meditating. It was then stolen from me and made into "24 Hours Later". The concept of "fast" zombies and a zombie road-trip.  Publishing my stories on Amazon means a kind of forced copyright, so that the 24 Hours thing wont' happen again. Or will it?

Somehow, it does not matter. I write because I have to. Just like this blog. 

I didn't know what to write. Now I am writing this. 

BTW, the picture is of a cell, the best picture of a real human cell by the best microscopes. Looks like some damn city. 

 

I wanna talk more about it. It was just a few moments I thought it was 9:30 and I could bathe, but suddenly it was 10:30 and I have to start preparing for the job. It's like my time is not my own. I realize it has to do with my job, and keeping the schedule active. But it's wrong. It's wrong in a very spiritual way. Renting cars to people is not advancing my own spiritual growth, except by the $2 an hour that I get which permit me to keep this apartment and feed these kids. It's wrong but it's also right. 

My writing projects are on the backburner. Cleaning up my room is on the back burner. Walking to pay the rent is on the bakc burner. I think of the days before my job, when I had all day to do nothing. I was becoming lazy, complacent. Now, there are so many things I wanna do... And I don't. 

10:38. In approximately 12 minutes, I will start taking calls. That's how it works. 

When I am done, I am too tired to write, too tired to think of anything but crashing and watching a few videos on youtube or playing sims. 

The great change is coming. It's gonna be brutal. It's gonna be great.

 

Imagesnes Octubre

 

Altar de Muertos

Like many days before I feel a little out of control. It's always the small things. I woke up too late to go pay the rent at the mall as I had planned last night. Nanda didn't wash the dishes.The cats were fighting on top of my altar to the dead. Little things that when added up make me feel out of control, out of sync with my plan to make our lives better.

It's all in my head, of course, and it has little importance in the overall flow of the universe, but it's odd how such nonsense can affect my mood. I am far less in control of my life than I need to be. 

A plan B appears quickly in my head: take a shower. Have a coffee. Send the kids to pay the rent, or pay it this evening.