And I’m not going to let any of these temporary stresses rob the attention from such an incredible accomplishment.

One day, I will live in an organized, clutter free home…

I will have a little blue sport’s car that’s always waxed, sitting on fat, wide, grippy tires, and the engine lubricated with Royal Purple.

Money flows into my wallet and accounts like water.

I have a fortune in my bank, actually.

Margerie goes: “Wow, Daniel… I’m impressed.”

I get paid a ton to write cute little short stories. I have multiple books out. They’re all smash hits.

I’m well known in my world.

But today will not be that day. And I’ll keep working and grinding and even sometimes slaving, to reach “one day…”

This is the NECESSARY kind of change.

This is where you prove all those losers— A, M, J,—- that you ALWAYS intended to get a job, and its an important and high paying one.

This new life would nearly IMMEDIATELY upgrade you from a Mitsubishi Lancer and a quartz Seiko to a Hyundai Veloster N and a Tudor BB 58.

You can cram so much fun into your week. Massages, eating out, the boxing gym, a c partner, etc.

And eventually, she will waltz back in.

Two nights ago, I got in at 1:59 AM! Last night, 1:50 AM!

I’m growing, I’m healing, and the reality I want is coming!

I never thought I could disconnect from my relation to that /. But I did. I can feel a mental line, a meaningful, reinforced, “natural” sort of mental divider, which I don’t want to cross. But the most important thing is that I just don’t like what’s on the other side nearly as much. My mind feels so much more pure. All that dark shit, that I feel bad , it just isn’t there. My relation to / feels like its becoming a lot healthier.

Another shitty day which is made shitty because I yet again failed to abide by my sleep schedule.

“My job is to give you homework. Your job is to take it seriously and do it,” she said firmly. Mom-like.

I thought I was doing it. I really, truly, thought I was doing it. But I wasn’t.

You know what, you’re smart enough and aware enough to know that you weren’t doing it. Shut the fuck up.

Heaven awaits on one side of this problem, hell on the other.

An award winning book, tons of writing awards, abs and a huge chest, sparring matches against champions in different countries, money. A house in Bel Marin Keys.

In Hell, I’ll be getting fired from my first AMFT job, continued hair loss, abdominal weight gain, the continued absence of her, etc. The spawning of new enemies, new crushing situations.

In between, this purgatory of dissatisfaction and my spirit clawing for more.

It’s so flat and ugly. Boring, basic buildings sprout up in worn, erosive, concrete to the same feeling as Rohnert Park. It’s just a lame place. Twice the price to visit a NEW, ACTUAL place is worth it.

Daniel of the future, I fucking mean it. There’s no reason to come visit Canada… At all. Lex and Daren are not your responsibility.

The comradery is good, as are the late night adventures, but then they can come here.

It’s really exciting to have met a boxer who’s going into a fight, and to have skin in the game. A stake in the outcome.

“Getting frustrated and riled up at nighttime isn’t going to help you fall asleep, its going to hurt.”

“1 or 2 AM is not an appropriate time to think about dress shoes or leaving another post-it note.”

“Daniel, that’s a lot of caffeine.”