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If You Can Read This?...Let's Get Rich!

It is true that I am not exactly certain the reason as to why this existence for me has spilled out into a compiled “yearning mass” of spoiled directions and separate dimensions of ambitious pursuits. Tender, yet I was, and likely as we all are, or, once were, when the beginning was clearly noted and understood by me as being aggressively troublesome, but yet having rigorous fledgling-like confidence and being restlessly unperturbed by its difficulty at that time, I stood up to the challenge of trying to become.

I don’t often get to admit this, but I guess at that younger age it was far less challenging for me to dream. At any rate? The point being—that there was a series of tidal-wave structured pursuits of mine that were up against incredibly monstrous forces and leading on separate portions of the globe. 

The beaches of infamy and accomplishment were diverse and certainly took unfathomable levels of discipline to research the successes and failures of those who had challenged a similar strait.  No matter how ready-present and apparent the visibility of unlikelihood and failure was for me? None of that prevented me from diving in head-first and enduring the long-awaited echoing of suffering that would trail and ping itself along the hallways of dedication toward my ambitions. Because wasn’t it a worthy ideal for me to pursue in being given one lifetime? Another moment? Another breath of fresh air? Yes, most certainly. I could understand that it was. People needed a break from their lives. Where I grew up? People required satisfying entertainment. Something bigger. Something deeper. A something bit a tad bit more fulfilling. And perhaps my formidable ego, or, while naivety circled my perspective of life closely—I was certain only of one thing: my certain death was ever-approaching on the horizon.

Self-pity—while tempting to succumb to as physicality’s declined—nor my overindulgence within the saturated solitudes of despair, were meant specifically for me to feel sluggish over. I had to continue marching ahead! There was much work to be done! Forget! Forget! Forget the past and carry on! A past too deep and steepened with fields and terrains of failures and struggles, I was yet unaware of the possibilities as creations versus the obvious conclusive evidences that lay out in front of me.  Those were the words to latch-hold of and fly onward with. The heavy-laden blanket of failure soaked up my clarity and drowned me in confusion and discord. I could see myself, but only under its certain domain. Failure was the space for me that was heavily entrenched by the stench of perilous, worthless endeavors earmarked by lost time, insanity and shame. I was preparing myself indubitably well for becoming a nobody: a wanna-be.  Moreover, I was trying way too hard to be liked by everyone.  While being polite was not the time for me anymore, making friends in this lifetime was all that I desired.  And while remaining the pit-bull, clenched jaw-attacker I had learned myself to be, this approach toward friendship was seemingly not possible: it was frightening, and yet? I had to do this all alone regardless. 

How much more time could be wasted on the wrong people, or doing the wrong-type of thing? Wasn’t my life an apparent circular dead-end propagation? Existence was certainly charming. I do not interpret myself as a negative-type of person, but what? Where? Why? When? And how? Were after me at all times. My own unique sense of being was deflated. Waiting felt uncommonly familiar to me: whether in expectation for answers that contained remedy, or in being approved upon and cleared—becoming familiar to the notion of capable growth and of worthiness to perceive myself as a matured, and rightfully-earned master. It takes constant practice to be your own biggest joke. It really takes consistency. I have to mention that because consistency is a big pike for me to overcome. It might take a person their whole life to learn how to laugh at themselves. But for me? In my case? Laughter was my favorite medicine. My life was rife with comic despair.

This day had to be put down. This outfit had grown altogether frighteningly silly-looking for me to contend with…like a Halloween costume that’s been outgrown and overused, but still resonates and reminds the wearer of how far they’ve come while to everyone else it is rather obvious to perceive that it’s about time to get a new costume. Personally? No matter how bad this thing looks on me though, I still get the thrill of being able to make it fit. Like a fresh, new 2020 MAGA hat.

This life of mine? It’s like taking a plunge off the deep-end and playing the game of who can hold their breath the longest. But then when arriving at the bottom of the water? Discovering that the other people there have protective SCUBA gear on and aren’t really all that interested in playing the same game you are.  

All the while there is a tremendous amount of invisible pressure. Pressures that were apparent in high school? No. Not exactly.  More personally vindictive. My timidity, is gone.  The thrill of being on stage, or otherwise performance, is still there. But the more deeply engrained habitual reactionary ways of being are what prevents me from progressing, so to speak, in a societally-oriented fashion. 

And yes, there is a desire to participate in society, but I recognize the rugby match of paradigms that continuously combat against each other in my mind.   These types of matches occur for me especially wherever a space can be labeled as “home.” Home is an easy way to give up for me and to just turn in the towel. Feel comfortable not. Just—not getting involved in any aspect of societal existence.  It is also a great reminder of the fact that each moment is an opportunity to be thankful for and to utilize appropriately with better habitual thought patterns. As best you can and for all that you’ve got give yourself a boost by thinking thirty positively constructed thoughts. Go. 

If this isn’t real enough for you yet? Let’s be real for a second—it could be a lot worse.  I am absolutely aware of this. I could have been…but not. THIS is my battle I am up against: a highly deranged family who participates in societal life with congenial alacrity and has absolutely no interest in what it is I do at all. From the moment I was there—to the moment I came back? It was like starting out all over again with no experience and no interest in what I have accomplished to be a valuable asset to the family.  I am unequivocally related to them as their “project.”  Unfortunately I am incapable of providing them with much of anything in value.  But that! So you know. THAT way of relating with the world, can also become a disadvantage.  It can create burdensome and lackluster anger and aggression issues directed toward people.  Some moral compass of mine quite distinctly related with my BoyScouts experience forces me to give and get back to my roots—to make it better than how it was when I got there. And it is great for those whom I provide this service for, but in my opinion? It goes relatively unnoticed.  I created this. I am responsible. Yet If I were in their shoes and attempted to understand the perspective and orientation in life where I, the “project” was coming from? I think I would really admire them for noting that type of executive level of support. “Someone on our team is sinking—find out what we can do to patch-up that hole.” It’s not their responsibility. I get it . I am on my own.  But, again personally? I believe it to be an experience worthy of exchanging human to human conversation—at least an acknowledgement.  Life is not easy for anyone.  But never mind my struggles I have been adorned by and am preoccupied with—I hope in the very least, that a reader could at least gain some value in attempting to understand the space where self-pity and victimhood could come from—make me feel safe? A space that welcomes me gladly and without any judgement. Kind of like a good Cheers bar and P.S. I am absolutely fine without an alcoholic beverage, or any narcotic substance for that matter—it would do nothing but prolong the experience and likely contribute to more of that which I am not interested in.

So in the understanding of pride and its relationship with ego? At this point—I would argue that I’m on the tail-end of that journey. I would at least like to think that.  I’d still stand up for myself and I would most certainly make sure that I stand out honorably for people to be able to interpret my level of integrity and worthwhile, intrinsic value.  There again, a little speck of emptiness of mine could be spared for that occasion. Yet that occasion does not come on so frequently.  I could fall off the hook again and be left alone with my despair and this deeply depressing state of existence. I know what I did. I know what I have done. I certainly wouldn’t do it again the same way, but admittedly I have to acknowledge that there is a certain sort of perfection of it—given that I am still here. I’m pretty sure. I know also what I can no longer do, or, will no longer attempt to do. That narrows my options down a bit more for me: the older a person gets, eh? Either way I do not feel as though I have the time to get stiff and upset about any of it. My mind is overflowing with ideas: crowded enough as it is. So right now? Right now is my time to make a choice to continue doing the same thing I’ve always done, or,  learn from my errors and change to do the same thing I’ve always intended. Fuck yes. That is absolute. This is my life: my only chance to pull my head from the sand and grab my dick out from the dirt. This life of mine will either be the “saddest, but you have to go and learn from his failures,” type story, or, the greatest most fearlessly inspiring fairytales of human-existence. Any person with a conscience and a hidden monstrous talent and skillset is well-aware of their “everyman” pursuit. But the main point here is? The, “Dark Horse” always wins in my book. And if you’re not betting on yourself in life? Then you’re likely not going to be on my team: the stretch is a stretch for a reason: it will take something great from creation.

Please, do not play the reliable, trustworthy cell-mate: everybody knows they stole, murdered, cheated, or whatever they did. I want the honest and loyal, top-bunk deliverer of experience-oriented truth. I don’t care what happened in their story, so much only that they have voiced their intentional direction in life and where they are understandably capable regardless.

Regardless? I am not asking for anyone’s pity of me and/or, my situation. That would do neither of us any good. But if you do denote a sense of pity on my circumstance? Consider making note of it: observe it and how it feels. Look? I’m 38 years old, I run a failing business that I have tinkered around with for the past 15 years, I have no money in my bank account, I live with my parents, and if that doesn’t do anything for you? I was diagnosed with a serious medical condition that leaves me only slightly handicapped. Meaning? I can walk and stand, but I could never chase and nor could I ever run. The truth is in the mind and for whatever reason? I am still here.

The trick to understand, however, is that it does not work—self-pity or a state of victimization directly impinges upon a person’s interpretation of freedom.  The mind is always, “ON” unless? Well…unless an individual chooses to avoid their opportunity through external devices. But a person will have to get this: the mind is the only escape to salvation. The journey is down one’s own individual path, but on a similar destination and accord. The awareness enables an individual to potentially enhance their perspective.

So? In having read through the wretched account of my life—as it stands, I thank you. I truly do want to welcome you into the expansiveness of clarity, and level-headed understanding compassion that you have allotted for yourself. Did you get the acknowledgement? Is it clearer to you who you are as a being to me? Capable. Worthy of praise, love, honor and respect. Not for me, not or any other individual but you? I might have a little hint-of psychosis in my literary methodology, and maybe? Maybe there is the chance that you once had an experience that resembled, or was quite similar to, the situation that occurred for me, but everyone goes through something in their life, and this is not about you and nor was it ever. This next part is going to be fun. This is the next part that is going to more clearly resonate with you than ever before. Additionally it has to deal with truth and law and it’s called abundance, prosperity, financial abundance. Things that might interest you and pertain to a lot of what it is I do for others in the area of manifestation.  The good thing is? I did all the leg-work, likely unnecessarily, but that’s a side-note, so that you won’t have to! Congratulations! It is all done for you. I saved you the time—that likely should be worth it do you—and am intending on enhancing your life as my recovery period is officially over. Welcome again.

But at this point? The rotation comes. Here is where the real application for you begins. This whole entire past-life of mine is forgotten. It is what happened. It is also the story of what I made it mean for me, but this idea of impoverishment I was engaging with is now dead and riches and wealth are becoming available to you and are more clearly visible and tangible than ever before.  This is the realm of truth: the truth of abundance.  Everyone is welcomed to join along in this festive and restorative occasion.  The life of restoration and riches is in vast and limitless effect with an overflow of quantities.  Gold? Riches? Platinum? Dollar-Dollar bills? Negotiable instruments of any sort—All of my aim and ambition now fixates upon the idea of abundant supply: riches and greatness toward a fuller expression of the human being. The way God intended. 

But first? There is wealth available to us all! Each and every one of us who is desiring of a state of existence within a realm of abundance, comfort, excellent health and all who are adamant and assuredly deserving of this well-equipped, fit to reach platform or platitude of experience! It is available to anyone who calls upon its surrender. However, there is one catch. Are you ready? The catch is this: it does and it will involve taking action and performing work.

What is work? Work is a definition being traded on many levels, however, in this instance and for this particular writing—I want to invite you into a specific type of work: the most difficult work of all! What is this most difficult work of all? as described by Wallace D. Wattles in, The Science of Getting Rich, this difficult work is related to the action of thought—“sustained and consecutive thought.”  I am unable to tell you specifically at this point what you should do—to obtain riches—and in some certain way.  But you will do whatever you will do, and whatever that thing is you must continue doing it—and acting on it NOW.  Get a job? Fine. What is work there? In that context I define work as consecutive and steady flow of jobs.  And that is a what works. A bit more slowly, but surely it will be effective in the long-run. Don’t rush it by doing everything all at once. But do whatever you will do NOW and with all of your might while at the same time thinking of efficiency. It is probable that your actions will be related to your current environment with your current set of work or jobs that you have already been doing.  The following passage comes from the book, The Science of Getting Rich, by Wallace D. Wattles. Consider this portion to be your prescription. Read once daily for as long as it takes for you to form a new habit which is generally thought to be approximately 63 days according to psychological experts.

HEALTH IS YOUR WEALTH,

HART

“There is a thinking stuff from which all things are made. And which in its original state, permeates, penetrates and fills the interspaces of the Universe. A thought in this substance produces the thing that is imaged by the thought. Man can form things in his thought and by impressing his thought upon formless substance can cause the thing he thinks about to be created. In order to do this man must pass from the competitive to the creative mind. He must form a clear mental picture of the thing he wants and do with faith and purpose all that can be done each day doing each separate thing in an efficient manner while holding this picture in his thoughts with a fixed purpose to get what he wants and the unwavering faith that he does get what he wants—closing his mind to all that may tend to shake his purpose, dim his vision, or quench his faith. That he may receive what he wants when it comes, man must act now upon the people and things in his present environment.” -Wallace D. Wattles, The Science Of Getting Rich

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