Life is theatre. All the world’s a stage. Everything we do is a part of the show, where we like it or not.

We are all animals. We say it like it’s a bad thing, as if animals are somehow terrible creatures and we’re so much better than them.

Sure, we have more complex behavior. We’re capable of cruelty and kindness. No animal is kind towards its perceived enemies. Hyenas will rip out the guts of their living prey. See- temple grandis.

Dogs and cats are kind to us in large part because they’re domesticated creatures.

Reddit zoo accident- gorilla attacked another and raped it. Animals aren’t better creatures than humans. We will find acts of kindness and altruism. Cats grooming each other, animals morning each other. That’s a part of the social reality of things. But any animal that is kind in one setting can be gruesome in another.

Life is at once beautiful and horrible. Red in tooth and claw.

We’re all seeking chemical effects in the brain. That’s why we like lolcats so much. That’s why we masturbate. That’s why we go clubbing. As a writer, I am not immune. Writing is one way I get my chemical fix.

The interesting thing about humans is that we have the illusion of choice. We have the ability to do what oddyseus did- to prepare ourselves.

We click on youtube links that have boobs on them, or titles like “banned advertisement” though we know it probably wasn’t. We didn’t have much choice in the matter. We get into arguments where we get more concerned with winning than with understanding each other. We’re animals. We have the  circuitry.

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Today was not a great day at work. My colleagues are amazing, wonderful people and I have a fantastic work environment. I just haven’t fully learnt to work yet. And so I’m walking with cement in my shoes, in my Disneyland.

I need to learn the habit of practice and focus. I am repeating myself so thst this gets wired in my brain. My sleeping habits have improved. I no longer stay up all night for no reason. That’s progress.

I started a fitness routine. 20 pushups and 20 jump squats every morning, and every night. Everytime I do this, I write it down on my kitchen wall. This has worked out well for me. This is proving to do good things to my mental well being.

Incorporating fitness into my routine has made me more free. The challenge is to keep incorporating new routines into my life that further improve my freedom. I know what I must do, I just need to do it.

Damn, this is a crowded train.

I understand that I need to make the most of the littlw moments. The stars will never all align perfectly. The lights will never all turn green. That’s why I’m writing this on the commute home. I have to squeeze out whatever’s in me at every opportunity I get.  need to surround myself with people that inspire and motivate me.

I need to get all these little niggling tasks out of the way. I’m passing a t-shirt to a guy- I’ve held onto it for months! I need to do a book review that I promised months ago, too. These thoughts perpetually weigh me down. I need to ship, ship, ship!

Tomorrow morning I should go to work early. When I get home tonight I’m going to do my fitness routine. Publish 1 and schedule 1. Get plastic bags from downstairs? I need to meditate regularly and I need a clearer roadmap.

I’m going to read another chapter of thinking fast and slow. A chapter a day, a word vomit, fitness routine. These were the dailies I determined for myself a long time ago. I ended up starting with fitness. Now I’m moving to vomits and reading. If I maintain this for a week I’ll earn me some rewards.

Today at work I made tiny bits of progress on large tasks. This will not do. I need to implement strict pomodoro, for I am an animal that’s not to be trusted.

When in doubt, meditate and refocus on your purpose. I think bookends will save me- routines that bookend my day. Because now I just have a routine of disorganized chaos and the value that comes out of that is a mere trickle.

Look to your fitness routine, visa. See how it is strengthening you. And apply it to other areas. We will rewire your brain for the better.

—

I just want to continue this so I can post it up- I’m really thinking about writing about some of my army memories, because I woke up early in the morning and was reminded of my early morning army memories. I’m really not sure anymore of what I should be doing, but was I ever, really?

When I first started out, I just blindly did whatever I felt ought to be done. I wrote about whatever I felt ought to be written about. As I progressed and got more public attention, the whole operation started to feel more “legitimate”, so I started feeling like I ought to be putting some thought into what I’m writing. It makes sense, right? When people start looking at what you’re doing, you should give them what they want to see or hear. We naturally have that tendency- we sit straighter and stand taller when we believe we’re being observed.

But I think there’s a certain crippling/chilling effect, too. I start thinking about what my audience needs, rather than what I personally feel like putting out. Sure, there’s a balance between the two. But it can’t begin from a place of “what does the audience need”, because then I neglect what is bursting from my heart, from my mind. And if I’m not in the right mood, if I’m not in a situation where I’m enjoying what I’m writing, then the audience won’t be feeling it either.

So this is ultimately why I’m doing what I’m doing- in this context, these word vomits- they aren’t for you, they’re for me- but me doing this for me will ultimately be good for you, too. That’s what I believe. It may not be immediately apparent. But that’s how I got here and I think that’s how I’m going to be moving forward.