Texarkana to Fort Hancock, Yo: on the trail to a better life one step at a time, yo #MOVE11

“Why would you want to go there?”, I ask as I recline in the chair at the cafe by the beach, “this place is nice and sweet–there are several interesting plants in the corner that make the ambiance of the space more warm, yo.”

“I want to see what is out there, yoo”, he replies as he sips his coffee, “I want to see what else there is–if you don’t go , you just sit at home wondering until one day you stop, yo.”

I take a sip of my coffee; I don’t care but he keeps talking.

“And”, he continues as he sets his coffee down, “I want to try something different in my life–the way and the things that I am doing aren’t working well, yo.”

“It’s up to you”, I reply as I take a sip of my coffee, “ultimately, your life as the result of the actions that you take and not the thoughts that you think–the steps, tangible, that you take move your forward–not, your wishing thinking or positive affirmations, yo.”

“That makes senss”, he replies as he turns his head to look at the beach, yo.”

“That’s interesting”, I respond as I turn my head to look at the surfers in the water; there’s 16 today in the water waiting for the next set of swells.

“That’s interesting”, he responds as he turns his head to me, “you want to do something that matters–you want to say, at the end of the day, that you made an impact, yo.”

“I don’t care”, I reply as I turn my head towards the waiter, “you want to just enjoy your life–you can’t do that when you are thinking all day and avoiding your life. You can’t more forward if you mind is moving but you aren’t; you can’t progress if you your only effort is virtual or or digital, yo.”

“Whatever”, he replies as he takes another sip of his coffee, “at the end of the day, I am going to do what I want and your words may influence but they don’t control behavior; you can tell a bull to charge, or not too, but, ultimiately, it will do whatever that it wants, yo. You can tell a person to do whatever you want; at the end of the day, they will do what they please, yo. It’s interesting how you spend energy on moving something outside your control-use your energy to take actions on what you can control–you.”

The ATF, Awesome Time Federation, & The Dutch Oven Cooking on The Camping Trip, Yo

“Why did you decide to go camping with me today, Bilta?”, I reply as I rotate the marshmellow on the stick above the campfire, “didn’t you want to do other things in your life–did you just want want to hang here with a pitched tent, dutch oven and hot cup of coffee, yo.”

“I want to become manlier, yo.”

“That’s a great idea, yo–consider grabbing my Swiss Army pocket knife and I can show you how I open a can of cowboy chili, yo.

He reaches into my small black backpack and grabs the small metal case; he hands it to me.

“Check your assumptions and you’ll find that you start on the wrong foot and so the next step is always the wrong choice to proceed, yo. Before you start, or step, decide or determine which foot you should start on–maybe, you are actually 180deg opposite the real story.

Wouldn’t Give A Penny To A Drowning Man but Expects The World Because, Yo: no biscuits for you, yo #246

“I don’t like biscuits”, Bilta replies as he leans back in his chair at the café by the beach, “not everyone likes recently cooked warm biscuits with a light topping of butter, yo.”

“Whatever”, I reply as I stoke the fire fire at our campsite, “so did you pitch the tent right this time, yo–it was no fun last night when the tent fell in the rain while I was in the middle of the dutch over cooking our #STROGANHOFF, yo.”

Don’t #STROGANHOFF with the dutch oven in the tent, yo”, he replies as he shakes his head, “everyone knows that you don’t cook in the tent with the dutch oven–leave the #STROGANHOFF for the campfire.”

In His Angry.Digitl.Chair, He Sits And Watches Over The Business, And His Neighbors, Yo: the jealousy nxt door, yo

WHERE ARE YOU, YO, GOING SUSAN WITH THAT NOTEBOOK, YO: nothing’s real until it involvs the wallet, yo #411

“My name is Bilta”, he replies as he sets it down on the table at the café by the beach, “I want to be a writer, yo.”

“You could write me a check for not caring about your ambitions”, I reply as I roll my eyes, “everyone wants to be something they are not, yo.  Everyone wants what they can’t get; the pursuit is the desire and not the catch.  What would a dog do if it caught the car that is was chasing after?”

I pause; I wish that I wrote this shit down.

“It would probably be confident and slightly satisfied with the achievement of a goal–no matter how small, yo.  Wanting to get something or having something happen and then taking steps, how ever many are needed, is the joy in life, yo–the steps towards your purpose fills up the moments of toil with happiness, yo.  The mundane of staring at the wall in misery kills; like the most cliché advice ever to get out of your bed and walk to the refrigerator.

“Why there, yo?”, he replies as he digital.boots up his small notebook.machine on the wooden table, “why would start there?”

“Start at something that matters; yourself, yo.”

I take a sip of coffee;  I set the small green porcelain taza back on the table.

“Furthermore”, I continue speaking as I turn to look out the window at the 12 surfers in the water waiting for the next set of waves to roll in, “you want to have something with you at all times; a 10-peso coin.”

“Why?”, he responds as he sets his hands on the keyboard, “I feel like I should have so much more then that, yo.”

“Cause–that’s all that matters, yo  That you can call me from one of the digital.pay.phones on Dorinto if, and it will happen, you get into digital.trouble, “it’s not an an if but a when, yo; its absurd to think that you’re immune from real, yo. Thinking that you are invincible is the surest sign of addiction to gambling–being on a roll that never hits the wall; being on a flush draw that always finds the Ace, yo.  That’s why I always take the Ace of clubs out of my deck; you want to make sure that you know the missing card so you don’t sit waiting for it to appear, yo; that’s why the house always wins.  The hoouse always knows which card is left out of the deck; you wouldn’t want your players to know the card that is gone, yo.  You ever count the cards at a casino to see if their deck’s have 52 cards?”

“I try to stay clear of decks at casinos”, he replies as he takes a sip of his frappe, “I’m already a winner and don’t need the fleeting illusion of prosperity that transpires as I hit a trifecta of diamonds in the slow draw at the local conveinence store.”

“Yeah, ok?”, I reply as I shake my head, “that was rather elaborate and extravagent for a short example but you need to know that gambling is only fun beyond your limits, yo; the thrill of the rush of life in fast motion only happens as you pass your comfort zone and enter a dangerous area, yo.  If it can’t kill you, why would you try?”

“That’s an interesting point”, he replies as he leans back in his recliner, “there’s not much beyond these stale biscottis and dark coffee that make me feel anything–I want to experience life as a razor cuts the stubble on my face after a weekend of disregard.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it”, I reply as I turn my head back to him, “you ever have a feeling that the inevitable passes; that life is on a track in a roller coaster that gives excitement but not the kind that you want or are looking for.  When you can’t drink a coffee because you are at an ice cream parlor; when nothing works out that matters but you get by.  It makes you feel dull, not numb or angry, but there’s an overall sense of dull that pushes you forward, yo.  When you avoid life, you avoid life; when you focus on the chase but pass the cartch; when you want and want to let it go, yo.”

“I have to go to the bathroom”, he replies as he stands up.

“I think that I do, also.”

SO, YO, WHY DID YOU NEED THE DIGITAL.INTERNET ANYWAYS: doesn’t the company of us talking help you pass the time well enough, yo #WFT.

“It’s just”, he replies as he reclines the space jet, “that I have a special someone that I met last night at the cafe and I want to make sure that she is thinking of me the same that I am thinking of her, yo.”

“I doubt that anyone thinks of you half as much as you think about them”, I reply as I shift into 2nd gear with the digital.transmission and grab a bag of papitas, “you really need to make sure that you are thinking clearly and not just being so rash, yo.”

NO.NO.NOT,YES.NO.STILL,NO: drawing lines & sand and reinforcing them to build strongr boundaries with your neighbors, yo #246

“We need to get out to the waves faster so we aren’t in the cold water for as long, yo”, Bilta explains as he picks up his digital.surfboard.

“That’s the dumbest shit that I ever heard, yo”, I reply as I shrug, “unless, you are standing on the board–you are in the water, yo.”

I pause and look at the horizon; in this spot, on the beach, the sun rises over the water.

“Today is no exception, yo”, I continue speaking as I turn my head back to him, “the sun rises and sets in the same place everyday, yo. You can stay and watch it, yo; but, regardless, it will happen the same everyday at the same time.”

RETRIBUTION POLICY // ENABLING THE WORST SPECIAL BEHAVIOR, YO: contributing to the downfall of Sparta by exalting the individual, yo #WFT.

the secret sleight that no one knows about including me

One day, I had bad intentions but I was stopped.  I hate that dude, yo.

.

“What you reading, yo?”, Bilta asks as he pulls a hotdog from his backpack.

“Some leaflet that I found in the street on my walk to the café, yo.”

I sip my coffee; he has a good point and bring up several interesting counter-arguments, yo.

“You aren’t special, Bilta”, I continue speaking as I recline in the chair in the café by the beach, “instead, what you are is–a disaster, yo.  I won’t sugarcoat your deficiences in being an adult, yo; I won’t tell you that you are fine when you are not.  I won’t accept your less then when you are below average.  You can stop taking the easy way and I won’t help.”

“I’m just trying to put mustard on my hotdog, yo”, he replies as he shakes the small glass container, “the last bit is the hardest to get out, yo.  Can you hand me a spoon?”

“I need a fork, yo.”

“I only have these three plastic.spoons”, he replies as he pushes the utensils towards me, “do these help, yo?”

“In a sword fight, a plastic banana offers little protection”, I respond a I sigh, “why must I make this so unambigious so that he doesn’t misunderstand my words, yo–why must I over-simplify a complex idea or theory to spoon-feed him the logic.  I can’t constantly stop everything because he won’t start trying, yo; I can’t pause on everything because he comprehends nothing.  He, one person, is slowing down things for everything; the cog in the wheel or the squeaky chain gets oil and very old when it breaks repeatedly.  If things are cheap, yo; they can be replaced.”

“I got it, yo”, he yells as the small glob of mustard falls onto his hotdog, “the last mustard from the jar, yo.”

“That’s rather unimpressive and mundane a story, yo”, I reply as I roll my eyes, “you had little mystery in the outcome and no doubt in the results of what would happen; it’s like when you tie your shoes.  At the end of the day, you just have two of them on and there is no question to what that looks like or how it happens, yo.”

“I think that you need to add an air of mystery to your life, yo”, responds as he takes a bite, “what you really want to do is start a story and then change it; add a twist to the normal, yo.  Add a new wrinkle to what you think is going to happen to push the reader, and yourself, into the new; the unknown, yo, is simply beyond what you know.  It is trivial, yo.”

“I want another coffee”, he replies as he finishes the hotdog and picks up his taza.

“How the fuck did you get a hot dog into the café-I meant to ask, yo, but got distracted by this witty banter and fun conversation, yo.  I mean–you don’t often see people sneaking hotdogs into cafes; that’s both a feat of ingenuity and a mystery in and amongst itself.”

“I am a master of the mystery, yo.”

“I want another coffee”, I reply as I turn my head to look at the surfers in the water; there’s 11 of them, yo, today in the ice cold waters of the arctic.

.

grab your RSS link, yo: feeds.feedburner.com/KillTheStatus, yo #Aventura #RockOn21 #51CardPickup #pro 

LIVING ON CREDIT, DEBT & EMPTY SMILES, YO: the story of the boy who dared to, yo, keep going crying wolf, yo #246

“Yes, yo”, I continue speaking as I pick up my surfboard, “you are dramatic as fuck, Bilta, yo.  You just have to try–this one time, I will go out with you into the water, yo.  But, if you want to keep going, you’ll be going by yourself in the future.  I’ll hold your hand and we can go out together but, here forth, you are on your own.  I’ll go out with you once into the water to catch a break–but, moving forward, you’ll be the captain of your surfing ship.  If you want to keep surfing, or improving, or try to catch waves, you’ll be on your own–go if you want or stay if you want, yo.”

“I want to go, yo”, he replies as he picks up his digital.surfboard and turns his head to me, “let’s go, yo.”

He turns his head back to the water as the sun starts setting on the horizon; we don’t have much time until it is dark.

“Ok, yo”, I reply as I roll my eyes, “no time like the present to make a new memory, yo.”

I take a step into the water.

“Fuck, yo! That’s cold as fuck”, I step backwards and turn my head to him, “I changed my mind, yo–I’m not that good a friend, yo.  Have fun by yourself.”

I keep walking backwards; that water’s cold as fuck.

“So, yo”, he replies as he turns his head around and looks at me, “you aren’t going to go out with me into the water to catch waves and shit, yo?”

“It’s very cold water and I don’t really care that much, yo”, I respond I set the surfboard on the sand.

I pause; the setting sun looks nice from the shore.

“Have fun, yo”, I continue speaking as I sit down on the surfboard, “if you decide to take the plunge, yo.  It’s cold water but, maybe, someone out there can give you a couple pointers to surfing.”

I pause; why do I put myself in these situations?

“Put your hands on both sides of the board and pop up; then put your feet like 60deg. angles apart and shit.”

“That makes sense, yo”, he replies as he shrugs and turns back to the water.

“I always make sense, yo”, I respond as I sigh, “so I’m going to go buy another coffee from the café and we’ll meet up there later, yo.”

“I’m going to go for it, yo”, he yells as he steps into the water.

I pause; they always say the same bullshit.

Moments later, he is sitting on his surfboard next to me.

“Yeah, that water was really cold, yo”, he replies as he shrugs, “thought I could do it, yo, but I am hardly the man that I think that I am.”

“I have observed that and commented to many important and remarkable people that you are hardly the man that you think that you are, yo”, I reply as I shrug, “it goes without say that we elaborate our accomplishments and downplay our failures to make ourselves better then we are but less then the others; the modest humility of being human when we are anything but that.”

I pause; we should do a fogata tonight.

We haven’t done a beach bonfire in a long time, yo”, he replies as he turns his head to me, “let me see if I can grab a some scrap wood around the dunes and maybe we can get something going, yo.”

“When it comes to beach fires, yo”, I reply as I stand up off my board, “they’re never a bad ida.”

“You know what else is rarely a bad idea, yo”, he exclaims as he turns towards the dunes.

grab your RSS feed link and follow the story, yo https://feed.feedburner.com/KillTheStatus, yo #WaitingFor #21 #pro *sips coffee, yo 

THE, YO, OBSERVER, OBSERVED & THE BIAS: the allegory of the green.ninja in the field, yo #WFT.

“OMG, yo!”, I reply as I sip my coffee and set the taza back on the small wooden table at the cafe by the beach, “you, yo, are supposed to put the knot on your black headband on the back–not the front. You just don’t get it–you can dress a cat up in scrubs but that doesn’t make it a doctor. Appearance may influence perception but it does not infer qualified, yo. You can dress up as a witch, yo; but it doesn’t make you bad. You can dress up as a cook and still burn dinner.”

“I am a master of that, yo”, he replies as he shrugs, “I burnt the fuck out of the macaroni & cheese last night for dinner.”

“Yeah”, I respond as I roll my eyes, “not sure how that is even possible, but I don’t doubt that you could ruin heating tomato soup, yo.”

“I have no skills what-so-ever”, he remarks as he turns his head to look at the water and the 17 surfers on their boards looking out towards the income set of waves, “it’s like I am not good at anything, yo.”

“Yes–I have been saying that for a long time, yo. You, really, have no talents, skills or desire to improve–you’ve bad at everything and have no change in that in the forseeable future. It’s, like, an amateur that gives up before the game starts; a beginner that never wants to go pro; a starter that just wants to sit on the sideline.”

“I don’t have much interest in improving–I don’t want to be here, yo”, he responds as he sips his coffee, “if there is no desire, then there will be no accomplishment; if there is no motivation then there will be no action; without action, or desire, there will be no progress, yo. A ship sitting in harbor never sinks, nor goes out into the ocean; boats aren’t made to wait on the shore, yo.”

“Your allegory is interesting, yo”, he replies as he sips his coffee, “why don’t you just get straight to the point that I am a horrible person, yo.”

“I don’t really care, yo”, I respond as I continue drinking my coffee, “where you are and where you want to be concerns you–if you want, I can draw you a map, yo. If you want I can show you the direction to go from here, but you have to take the 7 steps away from here or towards it, yo.”

I pause and sip my coffee; that was profound as fuck.

“So, anyways, yo”, I continue speaking as I listen to the small digital.bluetooth speaker blaring the newest dance.pop.song from the singer Huttwooe27.digital.

“She’s, yo, very talented”, I mention as I turn my ears to the music, “but, anyways, if you want to go towards your dreams–you can, yo. I think… to be honest, I think that you have to tell yourself the real story and that means that you want it or you, yo, don’t want it–if there’s no desire, you’ll never take steps and stay here on the shore like a boat in harbor, yo.

I sip my coffee; it’s lukewarm.

“So, anyways–my coffee is getting cold and this conversation is getting stale so I’m going to go reheat my coffee, yo. If you are here when I return then we will keep talking, but, if you leave, I won’t look for you or care, yo.”

I stand up and turn towards kitchen in the small cafe by the beach that I own.

“You can be a customer or waiter; you can be a business or purchaser; you can be the observed, yo, or the observer.”

pro: so he was an alcoholic that lied from the first moment & never gave up the ghost, yo… doesn’t surprise me, yo #WhoWhereWhat21 #When & #WHY51

“Furthermore, yo”, digital.Bilfty21 continues speaking, “what I want to explain is that you weren’t there to see the expression on his face when he saw that we were just joking around, yo.  Pulling the wool over his eyes was hilarious, but also, deeply, satisfying, yo.”

“You are wearing a hamster costume, yo”, I reply as I roll me eyes, “while I am smart, attractive and astute, your attempts at humor seem less credible given your disshelved appearance–want to be taken serious, then you need to look the part.  Are you a professional or an amateur, yo? Are you selling anything that people need credibility for or are you just asking for sympathy–is your business a product or service or looking for a hand-out, yo?  Are you making an honest offer  or pushing the guilt card towards your favor, yo?”

“I like my hamster costume, yo”, he replies as he takes another sip of coffee from his taza, “I am stylish and sophisticated, yo.”

“You can be whatever that you want, yo”, I respond as I recline in my chair in the corner of the café by the beach, “but, yo, at the end of the day, I’ll be going my way and you’ll have to decide which way you will go–we meet here every Tuesday for our client-business meeting, yo.  If you don’t want to show up then I won’t see you here, but, if it is your desire to continue, as usual, just show up here at our time and we’ll meet every Tuesday at 8:37pm, yo.  Weeks pass and days change but there’s always 7 days in one, yo; why do I have to explain this constantly.”

“What”, I continue speaking as I take a sip of coffee, “is that you want to budget yourself enough to have some now, tomorrow and in the future, yo.  You can’t just have everything now and nothing tomorrow or everything tomorrow and nothing now, yo.  You have two feet, yo; put one in today and step towards tomorrow with the other one, yo.”

I sip my coffee again; it’s comforting when it’s hot.

NEW POST, YO: 31/10/20 // 23hrs… well, at the end of the day, “I, just, hate him, yo” & “I don’t want him here, yo” #pro #247

NEW POST, YO: 31/10/20 // 23hrs… well, at the end of the day, “I, just, hate him, yo” & “I don’t want him here, yo” #pro #247

“It’s just a biscotti, yo”, I reply to Bilta as I lean back on the beach by the water at the beach, “that’s called personification–adding human qualities to inanimate objects, yo.  You can’t add feelings to a bench–emotions are for people not objects.  You can call this biscotti stale but you can’t say that it feels happy or sad, yo.”

The Smith’s – This Night Has Opened My Eyes

“And”, I continue as I take a sip from my paper cup, “you want to refrain from speaking so negatively about things–thinking that you are a do-gooder that fights crime is probably a crime in and amongst itself, yo.  You are not law enforcment and your vigilante motives probably come down to harassment of an innocent individual trying to enjoy some caffeine at the beach.  You should let it go–fixating on others is a means to avoid facing your own problems.  Who do you see when you look in the mirror, yo?”

“A very handsome young man that has tons of potential, yo”, he replies as he sips his coffee and turns his head to the surfers in the water.

“I doubt, yo, that’s the real story”, I reply as I sigh and turn my head to them; there’s 14 surfers out there today tryin’ to catch their wave, yo, but Bilta still is afraid to get in the water to try his hand at it.

I sip my coffee; winners say that their coffee tastes better.

“What are your plans for this afternoon, Bilta”, I continue speaking as I turn my head to him, “the best meal in the world could have the worst taste if it’s followed up by something that you don’t want to do, yo.  It doesn’t matter how good that the food tastes if you dread the future; you want to lighten up your load on your mind and learn to appreciate the small moments and victories in life.  Just tying your shoes on your own or drinking the first cup of coffee that you brewed can be a victory that leaves a memorable moment in your mind, yo; look back with pride in what you’ve accomplished and look forward to a moment that you anticipate in the future.”

I sip my coffee; 3 surfers are getting out of the water and 2 are entering and I think a seagull just shit on that dude’s head.

I chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”, Bilta asks as he turns his head to me.

“Oh no”, I reply as I turn my head back to the water, “old joke about a mushroom in a bar. 

Mushroom walks into a bar, yo.

Bartender says, “we don’t serve your kind here.”

Mushroom replies, “why not, yo? I’m #FUNGI.”

Bartender doesn’t laugh and pulls out a baseball bat, “do I need to explain more, yo?”

Mushroom leaves bar quickly.

Bartender puts baseball bat back under the counter.

Mushroom is never seen in that bar again.

“I don’t really, yo, know why that joke is funny”, Bilta replies as he sighs are sips his coffee.

“It’s not”, I remark as I shrug, “it’s just a way to pass the time.  Just the two of us sitting here at the beach with coffee and a little conversation, yo.”

“Don’t you, yo, have a life or something”, he replies as he pulls a turkey sandwich out of his backpack, “you want one, yo?”

“Nah–I had a big breakfast”, I reply, “it gets boring, yo; you don’t get bored ’cause there’s always something to do put playing solitaire until dawn with my 51 cards gets old and it’s nyce to have people stop by occasionally, yo.  Like Walden’s Pond, in a book that I read years ago, occasionally the lost travellr would stumble-upon his place and he would indulge them in a brief talk before setting them on their way.  Like that, it’s nice to break the monotony by having strangers make their way around here with simple questions and small requests–it’s the small moments in the break of the day that change things the most, yo.  It’s the random that makes up life, yo; it’s the oportunity to use your knowledge, experience and expertise that gives a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day as you set your head on your pillow to fall asleep, yo.  It’s the reason that school, work and life teach us what we need for the future; it’s designed intelligently by people for a purpose.  It’s to make you, us and them better, yo.”

“Who is them, yo?”, he replies as he sips his coffee, “the people not us, yo.”

“At the end of the day”, I respond as I turn my head back to the surfers in the water waiting to catch the next set of waves, “leave, yo, people better then before you got there.”

look for this, yo, l8r on http://www.youvegothatemail.org & subscribe to the #RSS at https://feeds.feedburner.com/KillTheStatus