So I got a job working for the Avis Budget Group in downtown Mexico City as a Telephone customer service representative. I get paid a little more for speaking English. $16 USD a day. The same job, in Texas, pays $15 an hour. But I guess Avis and Budget must keep their costs down by hiring Mexican slaves... Me. 

Como vender mejor mi producto? Cual es mi producto?

Pues de forma, el Ayahuasca, pero de verdad, el Tarot. Mi problema es basico: mis gastos son superiores a mis ingresos, y pues, como no puedo reducir los gastos, hay que reducir los ingresos.
Acabo de ver las siguientes paginas web para ver como ganar un poco de dinero extra:

skillshare.com
udemy.com
flippa.com
texbroker.com
clckbank.com
computrabajo.com

Veamos que hay ahi. No nececito mucho. Hace unos dias, Noehmi Ruth me consiguio $80 dollares de clientes pagando $20 dolares por lectura. Si puedo lograr eso cada semana, ya resolvi mis problemas economicos. Es cosa de buscarle. Lo que es perfectamente claro es que con mi puro seguro social no voy a poder mantener a 4 personas y 2 gatos.

De regreso de mi viaje a USA, enfermo, pero sanando, confundido, y sin muy claro camino de lo que sigue. Rasa esta viviendo con nosotros, y yo me siento extraviado. Como que hay mucho que necesito resolver y no estoy muy seguro como llegar ahí.

En efecto, lo que necesito es un nuevo plan  para salir adelante. Dinero me falto en este ultimo viaje y la razón es que no estoy produciendo nada. Y pues, que sigue?

Posiblemente, empleo. Vamos a ver. Unos 10,000 pesos adicionales podían cambiar nuestra situación bastante. Pero el tiempo que dispongo para eso es un problema real, y no me gusta que otra gente tome mi tiempo para ellos. Eso es lo que busco cambiar.

En fin, necesito empezar a ver opciones. Tal vez un part time.

Todo bien. Todo en camino, pero falta dinero.

Return to LA scheduled for 11 Dec.

So I got my ticket.
That always makes me nervous, getting my ticket. There is a finality to the matter, that cannot be taken back. In and out. Return to Mexico ASAP so mother does not do any more mad shit. I doubt if Nanda can handle her more than a few weeks. A couple of months at most.
Smoking more and better weed than I am used to.
Distractions. Mom asks me how I am going to make the surimi. I give her a Nicholson look and tell her not to bother me with that right now.
I open my blog when I want to write but I am not certain WHAT I need to write. Just writing for writing's sake. Getting my ideas into words.
Ideas into words.
I feel strange.
Like I need to be doing something, but I don't know what anymore.
Like there is a doom?
No.
Just .
Sapo.

Bueno, nececito bañarme y salir a pagar la renta, mandarle unos centavos a Majo pa que coman y luego ir con Pin al jusgado. Holy shit. Busy day.

Fumando tabacco mentolado con quiensabequechingados.

Ta gueno el tabacco.

Wow.

Rig Veda on audio, and lettting my fighers type my words.
The world feels right, and me good on my way.
The war is won.
The spaces set.
Words become acts, acts become history.
And my stone-form becomes aparent.

South Dakota.

Smoke a little to elevate thoughts.
Meditation on everything.
Smoking meditation.
Writing meditation.
Listening meditation.
Seeing meditation.

Josue is arriving soon.
I feel the arrival of The Grandmother of the Amazon.
Amazon burning.

Letting the spirits in me.
Letting them flow from my fingers.
What are fingers?

Does Fire understand finger?
Does Water?
Atl.

The people of Atl.

I feel my pulse in my hand.
Bring it down with breath.
Return to the fingers.

Nahua.
Sanskrit
Spanish
English
German

What is the truth of these words?
I write in English because it is the idiom that I have studied most.
Should I write in Nahua?
Sanskrit?

A mental meditation.
A mental masturbation.
In the deeper states of "no-mind" there is no mind.

My software "corrects" my English.
I should go back to drawing.
But sometimes, words should be written, too.
And in the language that they are "thought".
Such is the process of writing. Another form of meditation for writers, particularly.

For Stephen King, writing is a discipline that requires edition and correction, and preferably, autocorrection and planning before that!

But Stephen King writes from the Soul. He is a profit motivated write who writes for the love of writting.

So what is the answer?

To being a good writer?

Was Moses? Was David? Was Solomon?

How do they live up to Sri Vyasa? Or even Nabokov?

Rig Veda.

I am listening to a woman talk about the Vedas, but not read them. How utterly perplexing!

Perplexed. That was "my" state during the Maha Pralaya of the Second Toad Ceremony.

The Demonic "Tamas" has the quality of perplexity. Ignorance is its primary quality. I know lots of Tamas... And Rajas. but the Third? Do I know it?

Satva. Sannyas. Seva.

The SS..S.

The Ganeshhhhhhhh!

The Gate, Gate, Para Gate, Para Sam Gate, Kali Ma!

The Dance of the Dark Mother came to me. I went lovingly there, looking for her in adoration. Not the "smartest" thing to do if one has read the Vedas, and specially the Srimad Bahagavatam. But I have long considered myself the Asura of the family, drawn to ignorance.  Tamas.

I have been drinking tequila all day. 1/3 of a joint and I get so spooked that I need to listen to Vedas. Too many years of hallucinations (and perfectly legitimate poltergeist events) not to feel a little spooked after 1/3 of a joint.

But then again, I have 3 ayahuasca rituals in September, and I must help my Master.

Brewer. Master Brewer.

I wonder if I have the concentration to finish the Diplomatic Interspecies story.
Lots of projects going unfinished.... Getting lazy as a writer.

Or at least the second translation of Horror Stories for Children.

A work in progress.

WTF? Good weed is good weed and good ideas come with it. It's just how we roll. Go figure. I am going to make some supper and hang another box from the wall.

Lavander Disel. I think that's what they called it back there... Lemme see? Hydro. but which?

Bravo to the gardener.

Kitchen clean. I have things I want, but what do I want?

Nothing. I need for nothing. I want for nothing. that is the truth. I simply react to what the universe puts in front of me. Like the corrector that corrects my writing to the kohl in the kitchen, everything is as it should. Pot tea on the stove. Tomorrow PIN and the lawsuit.

Far behind are 9-11 and the border launches. The last time I crossed the border, I passed right through. My slate is clean...

And my soul? My spirit?

Likewise. In the deepest Ayahuasca journeys, K saw that Maha Pralaya is not "me", I just stand there observing it, a conduit for some who might not even be aware of it.

Why write a blog? It's not for YOU peeps. It's for ME. It's a grimoir, and should one find it and be of good use to him or her (or it) well jolly good. I would see gardens in all the rooftops and rivers in all the streets. It's what this town calls for. Burning it would also do the job? Probably, but in fact, there's some nice lookng little changuitas that I would fornicate with before that.