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 cafĂ© 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 clichĂ© 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.”

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