Happy Thanksgiving!

I have not posted anything to my blog since I bought my bluetooth keyboard, even though I have written several pages worth of material. Today it’s Starbucks on Beach and Hyde, 04:25 in the afternoon. Tuesday. November 26, 2019. I feel stuck. I have written about “getting unstuck” in the past. Anyone can get stuck, and for many different reasons. I believe I need to find “the right people” if I am to get unstuck.


What do I mean by this? Well, I have my core group of buddies; the people with which 

I hangout. However, since I am not starting a rockband, and instead I am starting a business, my circle of friends is not cutting it. I need more. Without cutting anyone out, I simply need to build a larger circle. ‘Business orientated friendships’ is a phrase that comes to mind. I have my fucking dudes. I got my brothers. I got my close friends. Kalen. Casey. Jared. DL. Big Al. Rashod. If I left you out, let’s change that for next time, because I am expanding the circle.


Perhaps I would have been better to befriend Ike, than hurl questioning rock at the fortitude of his public image. The man is taking a trip to Thailand with a team of thirteen other individuals, and they are going to build a kitchen in a remote village. A true humanitarian! As we must all be, also a capitalist, he will receive partial compensation in the form of followers-gained. Though the locomotion that is his skill as a craftsman, Ike is trading his art directly for a trip to Thailand. Selling for between $200 and $450 on his etsy site, he asking a reasonable compensation for his labor. This is considering his video, and his transparency about where the funds are going. Of course I am excited to follow his journey! and in the meantime, what more have I to say? I have really been thinking long and hard about the differences between Ike and myself. He uses the hashtag #bornwithtoomuch, and I think I missed the weight of that statement the first several times I came across it.


A man born in the same town as me, and he claims to be born with too much. 


If you know me, you know I consider myself to be born with too little. I want so much out of this life! Sad-but-true I have squandered a decent portion of my youth. Drowned my late teens and early twenties in bad habits. Hindsight is clear. I had little direction, I now know. Mix that with a knack for swerving authority, responsibility, and good advice. *tisktisk* 


Born with too much, you say…


I have long thought Menomonee Falls to be a magical place. 


When I came to San Francisco I met a girl from my highschool, working at the hostel I just moved in to. Small world. That was the first thing I thought. Further pondering changed my opinion. My highschool, and that little town I come from, [which is actually the largest village in the United States (if you’re savvy)] must be unique in someway. It took confidence to come to that conclusion! If Menomonee Falls is great, this means there are places which are not-great. Unfortunate conclusion of mortality is that we are sometimes stuck with the ‘luck of the draw’. 


Ike is doing something about that. Have you ever been to Thailand? The people who grow up in these villages don’t possess the skillset to build themselves a kitchen, much less the money to execute such a feat. I applaud what he is doing, and I respect his ability to trust the process. A panoid individual like myself is forced to develop his own process, but I will try and learn from Ike, as he himself learns from his travels.


I fancy I am penning a mighty good article right now. The time is 18:40 and I am still at Starbucks on Beach and Hyde. You and I both can’t believe how much I’ve fallen in love with Starbucks, but you know what? It’s Murica’ as fuuuuu


Most days I feel like I have accomplished nothing. We are about to find out, as I go on to publish this article before I leave Starbucks tonight, if today is an accomplish-something day or not. Either way it is undeniable that I am prepared af for whatever situation arises. If I suddenly need to start setting aside blocks of four or five hours aside to get some work done, I am well practiced. One time I spent nine straight hours at Union Street Coffee Roastery. Presumably I was writing, and those words are probably part of the [still unpublished] Bob’s Donuts Chronicles. That was the longest stretch I have done at a coffee shop. That day was epic because I worked twelve hours after my coffee shop stint. Good ole MAC’D days. 


The time is 18:49. Another hour and eleven minutes before they tell me to leave. I could leave earlier. If I wanted to wake up at 03:00 and go to MBSB then I would want to wrap it up right now and go home. That sounds perfect except for that I am a little hungry. No mind! I am not stressed about the situation. I will surely wake up and go to work tomorrow, and then I will surely have four days free from work. What in the world will I get up to? Oh shit! I need to buy shoes. It’s going to be Black Friday! I will find myself occupied with my days off, I am sure. Just gotta make sure I don’t buy anything foolish. What I need is a computer, but I hardly believe, with any merit, that I will buy one this weekend. 


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The time is 06:41 on Thanksgiving, and I am writing to you from Starbucks on Beach and Hyde in San Francisco. In front of me sits a hot pour, 700ml of Ethos water, and a sausage sandwich; cooked. Last year on this day I was in Wisconsin. Probably woke up at my Dad’s house, and I know for certain I went on to eat Thanksgiving Dinner at The Odyssey with my father, brother, sister, and grandfather as well. I found a picture from last year I took of everyone eating together. I should have taken a selfie, but oh well. The picture I took, I don’t think everyone is even looking at the camera. OH! You know what I am going to do? Call my Grandpa! We’re still talking about the same guy. A couple years ago, when I lost my grandmother, he lost his wife. It’s crazy. That man’s life…someday I would like to tell you the whole story. I could never get the whole thing, you know, because only he knows the whole story. Life is a complicated thing. He knows. I know. You might know. If you don’t know, now you know. 


I suppose it is the case that I feel a little sad today. It is so destined to be, and I need no consoling. When I was a child, we would gather at my Grandparents house and my Grandmother would prepare the fixin’s, along with the bird they accompanied. Two of my three uncles would come over [the third being in Dallas]. Also my cousin, my mother and I. In the later years my uncle and cousin would bring their girlfriends. Good vibes. 


The time is now 07:30. Spent a while playing around on my phone, and smoked the rest of a bowl I packed earlier. Now the time is 07:42. I am messaging my Dad back and forth because we are having ‘not so great’ service with Verizon. We both have the Google Pixel phone, so, idk. I literally have zero phone reception today. It started when I woke up, and then I left North Beach and got all the way to Fisherman’s Wharf. Still, I have no service. It hasn’t bothered me much today, but we shall see as the day goes on.


Honestly I don’t know what more to write. My friends and I are going to meet up and do gravity bong rips out of the fountains on Market Street today, since it will be dead. Perhaps I will have more to write as the day goes on, but for now, I am going to put the keyboard away and look for good deals on the internet, lol. Classic Thanksgiving maneuver. 


Spark Twain

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