30 Day Challenge – Day 5 and 6

Tuesday is the new Saturday. When Equanimity comes you obey the laws of thermodynamics.

Happy Monday. Let’s try anyway…

  Bi-pedalism is my savior. When in doubt, I walk.

  It was 10:23 Am in the dawn. I navigated my transportation pod off the main road into Pharal Park. It had become unnecessary to add “transportation”as I could not afford a dwelling. Modern pod’s came equipped with every practical convenience as long as they were electric. I pulled to the right when I entered the pod loop. It was designed to function counter clockwise. Two speed barriers later I turned left into my primary parking spot, shifted down the transmission, and shut off the engine. 

  I glanced around at my settings. It was a peaceful day with light clouds in the sky and a glimmer of sunlight. I glanced out the rear view and side mirrors in typical paranoia. I eased up a bit and monitored what was in front of me. The trees were as they always were: still and pleasant. Well..at least the trunks were. A light rustle captured my instincts ,and I stared at the gap between the branches of the closest one. It usually made me think of a slingshot. 

  There were a couple of flat stone benches in the near distance. They were a pair of staples in this pill shaped oval immersed inside the capsule. There was light dirt and gravel painting the ground below. For the savvy visitor, and the transient (such as myself), there was a barbeque pit with a flat top cement shell. I would use it for lower body core exercising and the occasional cooking of nutrients.. 

  Off in the distance I gazed at an open plot where every entrant would pass and reminisced. Once there was a young woman whom I had never seen before. She had a friendly aura about her, but I was painfully shy, making consistent excuses to not speak diligently in such situations. At some point my subconscious took a liking to the phrase “don’t talk to strangers” far too seriously. This was especially prevelant when it came to matters of the opposite sex. It became an abundantly intimidating task to approach a female without defaulting to sexual objectifying programming.

   “How are you?” or “What are you doing?” were basic openers, but the challenge came not in following the game plan but making real time adjustments. I always vowed that next time I would approach her if I would happen to be graced by her notable presence once more. 

  A year passed and the opportunity never occurred. Serendipity is a lie for the passive. 

  Define Cowardice – There is not always trial, but there is always error.

  It was painfully obvious that she was advertising her desire for attention and approachability. Who randomly does yoga/stretching in a spot where every pervert will get a good glance at your beauty and congeniality? It didn’t matter. She was most plausibly a tourist passing through on a long and casual voyage. Such is life;

  I paused my music. Best to be single tasked for a difficult quest. I was a semi-professional Harmony Handler, a sport that spawned in 2020. In this country you are allowed to dream. I consulted the H-Caid for a guided meditation. Understanding awareness is critical thinking. I settled in by closing my mouth and eyes. Deep cleansing breathwork began. 

  It had been an unsettling number of months. I decided to close the business I owned and operated. The ownership was primarily a faux title. One thing led to another. These things happen. 

  I was repaid the lump sum of money I advanced to my future work partner by means of minority ownership in the business he was on the verge of purchasing. It was a card room, which ironically was the only one in town that I prospected once I found out they were legal. The game of poker was illegal in many states of America for quite some time. Eventually, between the global No Limit Hold em boom, and general extraction of archaic laws; the game moved from being an underground sensation, or a niche in society where Native Americans were compensated for the gentrification of their lands, to being a legal grey market where questions were often asked, but rarely properly answered. 

  Along with another man who was a staple of the old school home games from my youth, the business was rebranded under our collective trio. It would have been fascinating to see what would have happened if I researched triads, the power of three, the holy trinity, anything that mattered to a new business owner. Instead, I was a degenerate gambler who preferred to lay in my pod, absorbed in my own self misery. My apathy was such that I merely accepted a H-Caid transmission stating the confirmation of purchase by the other two men as they got high and played poker at the biggest club in town. I would not gamble with my pod lease money when I was running bad.

  What once started out as a dream became a nightmare. What was once unrealistic expectations became an unraveling reality. Now there was only an ultimatum with the universe. If one is not growing, one is dying. My exorcism removed petty desires and exonerated that which was dormant but still useful.. In these following months I discovered consistency and mindset. The only meaning and purpose I had left was to adapt my brain’s plasticity and remove all that plagued me, accepting only that which would move me towards my goal. I jilled into the great neural network, though I had not the faintest inkling how I managed it. In my mind, the following details were written, but were encapsulated in my psyche for many more years before my hand would scribe the information to paper and hypertext. 

   In order to transcend my ego and embrace “The Art of Altruism”, which consists primarily of meeting an individual(s) or group(tribe), I must first establish the kind of person I aspire to become, and the type of person I wish them to meet. 

  In the short term this will prove difficult. I have nothing of importance to reciprocate or furthermore, to show them my validity at this moment. This is detrimental to my long term well being if it can not be solved. I can not get intoxicated in doubt and self misery. There is one scenario where I self-destruct, abuse drugs, and get fixated in regressive delusion.  There is another where I build my character, enhance my faults with medication, and grow with a solid and consistent drive, determined to achieve my goals in life. One calculation remains; Why?

  Q: How can I accomplish my dreams and desires?

  A:  I can plan them properly. 

  Q:  What is it that you would like to plan? 

  A:  A life with growth minded individuals.

   Build a list of traits you would like in your allies. The quicker you expedite the process the faster and more likely you will reach them and not be left behind. If undecided, then the fun has only begun for you. Please make sure you enjoy this discovery process, regardless of how long it takes. For example, I love music. So for many months I would go to my favorite spot; a park in my city, and I would notate my thoughts while I listened by the new method (streaming) and the old (albums), imagining where my persistence would take me if I was dedicated enough to pursue my motivations and ambitions. 

  Once you have found those who spark your creativity; you will need to build your professional network. There might be other avenues, such as dumb luck or hanging out with your friends, but I will assume that if you are taking the time to read this that the material found here is of importance to you, because dumb luck and personal networking are not your forte and/or gifts. 

  It is highly possible that this journey will suck imminently. To be frank; if it does not, then you aren’t being honest and vulnerable enough with yourself. This is the process of discovery. The conquest of these fears are vital.

  “Inhale 2,3,4 – Hold 2,3,4 – Exhale 2,3,4,5…

   My consistency was faltering. The challenge in meditation (of all the great ironies in life), is to just be, do nothing, don’t try. Years of poor congestion and concentration disrupted the upward trajectory and parts started disintegrating into the ozone layer.

  The walls came crumbling down after much anguish and deliberation. I knew deep down that the ship was sunk for about ten months when I made the decision to close the doors for good. Our most capable employee was stealing money. Our newest ownership partner was stealing money. The majority owner of the business was missing in action from full time responsibility during business hours, and was expecting me to perform any and every task that could not be performed by an incompetent mind. On top of that, I was expected to graciously accept back pay for my duties; which in case you lack enough “real world job experience”, is a fool’s pipe dream to immortality. My business partner was behind in rent for months and borrowing from his other connections just to make payroll. This meant little to me as I had become just as much a token manager as a token owner. I had the titles, but the money, power, and control were nowhere to be found. After a whirlwind night that I will never forget, I knew that this was the end for this chapter of my life. It was just after four in the morning. I vowed I would never make such a mistake again as I drove off from the establishment. I waved the white flag, tapped out, and began the painful process of letting go of failure and shame. This time was different. I did not quit on myself, or even on others, I quit on my vice; degenerate gambling.

  Approximately eleven minutes later I relieved myself of vengeful mental poison. It was a start, it was always a start. Enlightenment is hard. It was a chore to constantly remind myself of this transgression. It had only been seven months since he had uncovered any fossils of how to meditate. It had not occurred to me growing up exactly what the nature of sin was. Despite this, I knew now that I was abnormally attracted to it. Like most children born in America during the early 21st century, there was a plate of religion to eat. The sides were tasty vegetables like Catholicism, Lutheranism, Baptists, Evangelicals etc. The main course was always Christianity. It was a big slab of juicy, greasy, roasted, broiled, sauteed meat. Sure, it was tasty and nutritious on a mundane level, but that is a story that can be told in its proper place. Once you had your fill it was tradition to consume a desert. There were a slew of befuddling creations at the various markets. In retrospect, they are mystifying. For every Mormon there was a Quaker, for every Jehovah’s Witness there was a Moravian. Then there was the great divide of theories, awareness before the H-CAID. I should have pursued Astrology.

  This connection of land was labeled the West, while across the oceans there were territories that were referred to as the East. One can only imagine what this encompassing would have entailed before the invention of photography. You would think the textbooks or the “teachers” would outline the intricacies for the feeble and vulnerable minds of society, but this is the game adults play. If you were fortunate enough to receive a set of instructions; God Bless You.

  “There it is,” I stated, aloud. This is why I sat alone in my pod and not consumed in the shallows of luxury. Everyone in the lower social circles is a victim, but once you abstain from the nonsense and resolve to mature and overcome your struggles, then, and only then can you defend yourself from the madness of the ego’s dark side. It was time to elevate.

   Reconsulting my H-Caid, I procured the database for just the right formula of Cognitive Alchemy. The Song of Enhancement was a noble ritual that pierced through my heart every instance the experience was enacted. There was no other option but Music, Sounds, Global Communication. 

  Once the positive intellect vibe and flow began, I reached for my container of supplementation. The simplest list of ingredients was as follows: ionic magnesium, nutritional yeast, spirulina and chlorella infused kombucha, tart apple cider, and a nominal amount of hydrogen and oxygen. Then, I opened the cylindrical glass vial. In my left hand I held the dropper; in my right I gently swirled the contents inside and smelled the aroma. Last, I pierced the liquid concoction within and pumped timidly. An ounce or two was all I required. WIth great precision and caution I tilted my head backwards just enough to where the neck would not sting and voraciously positioned the dispenser in the air and unleashed the concoction into my mouth. It landed more or less on the tip of the tongue, but it violently shot up the base and into the sensory receptors. The transduction process was smooth yet unnerving. 

  A few minutes passed and the transformation was complete. I was no longer a boy, but a man. My confidence soared. There were signs of vigor increasing. The vitality of my being was unrestrained and chemically linear. There was no further reason to remain encapsulated inside this vessel. There were no boundaries, I was free. I ripped the chains of slavery away as I rocketed through the atmosphere.

  I opened the operator’s door and exited the pod with joy as the fresh air bristled down into my lungs. After a momentary lapse of reason, I realized that my mouth was uncovered. It was incredibly (un)fortunate that masking was now a law beyond requirement. At first I thought I had dreamed up a viable solution, but soon I understood that this was an extension of my nightmare, one that I humbly shared with many other despondent souls. Where one breaks, each particle of the makeup aches. Face coverings covered our naked shame in tandem with a shirt now that the Urea Virus was a legitimate threat. As I jilled back into the great neural network of hypertext activity I transcribed yet another future letter to my fellow enigmas in the great beyond. In euphoria I became convenience’s frontline reward.

   I became enamored with Consciousness more than a decade ago. I had always been drawn to things of an introspective and philosophical nature. For a long time nothing happened. Then the Urea Virus struck. Twenty percent of the planet’s humanoid population was eradicated. It had to occur eventually. Folks would not stop procreating. The stubborn mass of fools was eventually too much for the elite class. Heroes and Fantasies were distinguished. 

    It happened viciously over several months. One nation was quarantined. Then universally mankind quarantined. Activities of mass gatherings were halted. Everyone worked within their concrete jungles. The poor struggled during this time period. The common individual proclaimed that status quo ideologies were the best way to live. Once the virus hit; the wealth gap was instituted at a monumental clip. All non-essential but fundamentally beneficial work was quickly converted as tasks that artificial intelligence could handle. The bulk of those who perished were the homeless, the unhealthy, and the old. Those who were well off before the virus were rewarded in the long term. Those who were just reaching adulthood or adolescence were beneficiaries as well. Intellectual privilege was no longer a threat. It was a gift to be alive and satisfy innate needs.

    The internet had become a dopamine feeding highlight reel. A virtual cesspool of filth. Young people were bred and conditioned to climb their way through life grabbing every infested tendril with no regard for the organic world. Those of my generation were not so fortunate. Well…the blacklisted souls such as yours truly. The vast majority were content with the career that life afforded them or their virtuous intentions. Along with that they started families, or dealt with the various fragmentations of modern culture. These in my age group were considered normal. I was more or less a vagabond. My education level was unquantifiable. I had done everything right except question the merits of one’s own validity. Confidence was never conditioned into this man’s social lexicon. Their propaganda expects me to believe it is too late. That there is no clear path other than submission to the bleak realities of environmental and genetic shortcomings. 

    The opportunity that unfolded is mine. I had lost everything, so nothing would deter my focus. If I still had issues with this it did not matter now. I had taken an oath to lose myself to all of the step motherland’s medication if evolving brain plasticity was no longer an option. All I asked in turn was a blissful climax into the abyss of post normal human life, and an invitation to spend time with all its friends.

   My favorites comrades were Accountability, Bravery, and Courage. Any trace of these traits made me better than where I had been before my Exorcism. The dam had broken and the crumbling levee absolved my barriers of confusion until I had dropped over the waterfall of self tyranny. There was no going back any longer; if I could not swim then I would sink into psychosis. This shore I crawled upon when emerging was Terra Incognita. It was delightful to unload the weight of negativity. Such notions drowned in the deep waters or were unable to come ashore because they floundered like a fish with(out) gills. The virus would victimize humanity once again; it was only a matter of interpretation. I knew not when, but I had awoken from my slumber not out of coincidence, but necessity.. By luck I had waited until my brain was fully developed before immersing the mind in the intricacies of Enhancement. Some say you leave the comfort zone to arrive here. I believed the opposite. My purpose and spirit were found in this desolate mutation that sprung my cognition into action. I am Enough, I value process. 

  As I equipped my battle gear into position, the wavelength of transformation became glaringly obvious. The Fall air triggered something that had not been present in the Summer or even the Spring. There was a long awaited sense of urgency that had been missing in the previous months that I charted my findings. The Art of War by Sun Tzu had been eye opening to say the least. It was the length of a standard movie in audio form and I was the consummate warrior for such informative information. Long equipped with a military mindset that was rejected in reality thanks to the faults of the body, I now was optimistic and grateful to be alive. Often I disputed with the Mystics whether or not it was a blessing or a curse that this mortal form had not been disposed of like many others in the chain of life. It was evident to me now in my musings that I quieted personal enlightenment for professional wealth and ironically was spared.

  I placed a yellow bandana with black taoist markings over my face. In the last 9000 years or so masks had been a human configuration, and I envied the wooden versions most. I imagined a time where I went to an academic gala with a former girlfriend, and the crispness it brought to my face paralleled the energy her hand brought as it bonded with mine. 

  I unplugged momentarily as a faint murmur with spasms induced a chronic fury. I had a metal plate in my left leg that promised critical healing. It was an extension of me for many years. Whenever I felt these mini seizures, I knew the source. It was vaguely possible to get a grasp on what happened inside my body with The Sounds of Enhancement, but it was constantly illusionary. I knew by now what was a mirage, but I still had to question whether I lost my mind when I fought with an element without sentience. 

  I steadied myself and took a deep breath. “ The Ment”, as it was commonly understood by the public, was a raft flowing down my blood stream now. It was always a rocky excursion but it was drifting with dignified flow towards the gut where it would ignite the dynamite in a cosmic explosion of compositional plasticity. I am a Cognitive Alchemist, and the body I possess is my testing ground.

  Here at last I stopped the time machine in the year 2003. The Dwech University Sociology Department. Replica building of Qualia 297. The Honorable Simeron Dwech, and her biological experience, The Extravagant Oslo Martin. 

  I continued watching a promo as I waited for the meeting to begin.

  “It’s not about being right, but getting it right, as commandment states.

  An inorganic construct arose out of the wilderness, and greeted us with the merriment of a courageous bliss.

  ^^I am Qi Xi, The androgynous chemistry experiment of the properties. You may enter now, remove all modesty, but do it out of view of any ephemerality weavers. This is Somnambulism. They are building the next Daisy Huffwoman Theme Park and Resort.^^

  “Yes, can I sign the agreement to do no harm to the fitness routine program?”

  An academic ruler appeared before me and I entered the required five punches.

  ^Social currency balance reduced twenty percent. Have a nice neurochemical experience.^

7 – I’ll Be Here Awhile

    Booch and Shew had advertisers. One of them was a chap named Oslo Martin. He is a nutrition specialist in the wellness advocate realm. 

  I entered his arena. It looked and smelled like a used pod repair shop. I was greeted by no one so I decided to snoop around. In his makeshift office I saw a piece of paper that qualified him to register as a specialist and espouse expertise if the ego emancipated. 

  I gilled into the network and documented my thoughts.

  ^^When you were building your first book did you struggle to decide whether your documenting sessions were incomplete chapters or incomplete short stories? If so, how did you rectify this dilemma?^^

  I opened my ekale and titled: Invoice for Sensei Uno.

  “”Sorry my brother. Every seventy intervals is planned in my world. Someone walks in at interval sixty seven and they wait and gaze at my credentials.”

  Oslo had a modest facial tone but his grin was electric and ignited with arrogance. Sweat draped his temples and forehead, staining his v-neck.

  “You workout?”

  “Every daze.”

  “Man, Enjoyment. I workout at least three times a daze, sometimes four to six if I have guests that want to do Empowerment theory live.”

  “What idea came first? Empowerment theory or nutrition specialist?”

  “Come, get after it. I already see you wearing your Bruce Lee wardrobe. Plus I know you geographers want every quark of data you can harvest. You will only remember what’s important if you on the bench and I rockin my spiel.”

  My clothing was an experiment called cotton, which helped absorb sweat but not digest it. Crude and non efficient. Focus Rapids, you don’t know his E.S.P. and whether you can trust him.

^^Is Dimension 7 the code to true freedom. The path to becoming an agent of ephemerality. The epoch where sentience decides between an angel at the pearly gates or a star that flaunts supernovality?^^

  I laid down on my back, taking a few deep breaths. Oslo set the resistance to 68 kilograms. Bastard Au Courant. I rep.

 “I came up with Empowerment theory first of course. But I was a wild man. Fixed mindsex all the fucking time. Every athletic woman would come at my will. The joint would be full. Pure madness once I hit the second cycle. I bled funds for a twentieth because no one took me seriously. I thought I had talent but I was just smart enough to know how dumb I really was.”

  I always did Empowerment hybrid. Clean reps, dirty reps. I could do a dirty dozen but I wasn’t filthy. I prefered to marinate, but this cloth would leave the pores icky for sure. One down, four to go. 60 was the magic number. Hopelessly average.

  “So instead of studying astral projection on the outside, I go for the inside. I was lucky. I got high on all the best meant when I discovered Dwech University. I wasn’t really a menthead in the first cycle. My surrogates assumed I would fail so they ensured that I had no funds for a dwelling, that I would always be hungry if I didn’t have a strong work ethic. My need for nutritional intake metamorphosed. I slept little, always dreaming, jilled into the matrix whenever I had free time. Then I met this one Inculte Harmony handler and I woke from my slumber.”

  Set two finished.

 “She was a citrine digger, and she wasn’t even impoverished! Just spoiled. What a folly cunt. Her network approved me and all. I could have settled into being a total douchebag. There was no way I could harvest being content. She had a crazy fixed mindsex drive. I got tired of all the Amusement. She droned herself out. I tried to explain to her how a masculine has to build some level of the next Qualia, not just partake in Spiritual Entertainment.”

  Three down, two to go.

  “So I got serious on the Establishment curriculum and that’s when I met Simeron. It was tough because her masculine surrogate was a master of Enshrinement. She could have been a bullshitter like that Inculte scum, but she was brilliant and knew it. If she wasn’t going to be an heir she would be a revolutionary, and I had to be along for the ride. Our common chemical bond was nutrition so I got on point, in shape, in love. Now I punch the citrine tickets for all the masculine that don’t even know they are duped by fixed mindsex.     

  I struggled to complete the fourth.

 “Come on bench. One more set.”

  I dilated into my diaphragm, cornered my parasympathetic impulses. Equanimity came. You got this. You are enough. You are amazing. You are worth it. 

  “At first Simeron had periods where she wanted fixed mindsex too. But once I explained to her the concepts of growth mindsex from my perspective she was all in. Easy adjustment. As you are aware feminine have all the gifts for acting so I knew she would be my co-star. The technology came easily with a partner and we started to book guests. Simeron found a connection in organic plant based fundamentals with Shew and soon we applied for sponsorship. It wasn’t easy, but the journey was the reward.”

  I was two thirds through when I needed a spot.

  “Come on bench. Finish strong. Who do you want to be? Get real specific.”

  A flurry of Empowerment galvanized me and I set the weight down in victory after rep 60.

  “Beast mode baby. That’s what’s upward. Welcome to Qualia.”

  Oslo handed me a cleaning unit and I sanitized my nastiness. 

 “It’s so odd that all those simpletons on Fluvial can’t grasp the nature by which the Urea Virus struck. Us magnificent specimens that have the fever of Empowerment understand that you get what you give. Karma is a bitch. Either you pay it forward or you pay it backward. I was in debt once and I don’t plan on going there again. I have values in place to garner concentration. Read what’s on that towel brother.”

  I (Greg) channeled gratitude and tuned in.



Author’s Note: This is why Ayn Rand emphasis editing. Such a polarizing word.

Join me on the ITU platform tomorrow 7:45 a.m. – 12:45 p.m. (pst)

Happy Writing!

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