Proactive Procrastination Killed Swole Jesus
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Here we are again with another episode of, “Things I need to get off my chest but can’t post where I’m popular because people will think I’m a little crybaby bitch!”
Welcome everyone.
Anyway, last time I wrote I was weighing the decision to go back to agalot and sell hair straighteners. Possibly in Houston. I can still go do that, but really what I’d like to do is just book my flight to Thailand and call it a day.
Beaches, slutty backpacker girls, cheap food and rent.. Muay Thai. Yoga. UGH! Why did I ever leave?
Oh right, my dad’s birthday. But that was back in July and now it’s almost December.
The better question is: why did I stay?
Actually an even BETTER question is: what the fuck am I still doing here?
Better yet: what am I going to do about it?
There we go. The good stuff.
Yeah, so today’s the day I make a decision. I touched base with an old friend who I used to work with in New Zealand and they told me to pop over there for Xmas. But I’d only be able to stick around for like 3 weeks because my special friend from Israel is going to come in a few days. We’ve been planning on seeing each other again since September and I don’t want to bounce on her literally two days before we make the magic happen.
To be honest though, I don’t really give a shit about seeing her. Sorry if she’s reading this, but we had our fun together in September and now I’m kind of over it. I’ve fucked other girls since then and it feels like I’ve been through a ton since I left. She was just what I needed at the time, but now that I’ve been back in the shit for two months I don’t even really care.
Who knows — maybe I’ll see her and it’ll be like old times again. But maybe not. I’m literally thinking of leaving before the end of next week. The only thing holding me back is getting rid of my apartment. Once I have that handled, I’m out of here yo.
Now that crypto has crashed, my safety net is totally gone and it’s like the building’s on fire. Gotta hit that exit ASAP.
What’s interesting is that I was listening to an audio book yesterday where the guy was talking about one thing that bad traders had in common: they made trades that they thought had no risk at all. Let’s see if I can state that more clearly…
The guy was a trader for many years, and he says that in his years on the job, he watched many people “blow up.” In other words, they thought they were making trades that were sure thing 100% wins. He goes, “If you’re going to make a risky trade, at least acknowledge that the trade is risky when you go for it. Don’t leave yourself exposed to lose everything.”
Listening to that now after I bet so heavily on cryptocurrency this year was very eye opening. Other than a little cash (and income, thank god), I had all of my net worth in crypto. Not that it was that much, but still.
I mean, at one point it was a lot. At one point.
Now it’s worth maybe 10% of what it was before. So why am I still in?
I don’t know… I figure that if it’s gone down so much, I might as well hang onto it until it goes back up. While I could definitely use the $6–7k, I’m not desperate for it yet. I still have clients, I still have income. There’s no reason for me to liquidate it right this second.
Yes, I could theoretically use it to fund some other project. In all honesty that would probably be a good fucking idea instead of just sitting on it and hoping it will go back up. Hmm… maybe I’ll do that.
But then the question becomes: what to fund?
Well I have plenty of ideas, really. Here’s a few:
- Start selling teeth whitening products (very high margins)
- Pay writers for erotica short stories and publish them on Amazon
- Use FB ads to push traffic to one of my dropshipping sites
- Open a hair straightener kiosk somewhere and crush it for a few months
I’ve been toying with those ideas for a while. But I’m paralyzed, you know? I’m just like stuck. This always happens when my bank account starts going down. I think to myself, “Shit, if I run out of money now, then I’m fucked. I’ll have to go back to selling hair straighteners somewhere. 11 hours a day, 6 days a week. Grindasaurus Rex.”
And yeah, I *could* do that shit again for another six months. Save money, burn myself out, get out of shape and prime myself for another year or two of decompressing by traveling the world and spending lots of time in low-pressure environments. But is that any way to live?
Even with all of the new technologies that I’ve discovered over the past few years: microdosing, urine therapy, peptides et al, vinyasa yoga… I’m still scared it wouldn’t be enough.
But more than that, I just don’t think that I have the personality to make this kiosk shit a full time operation. I tried to reinvent the wheel in Australia, hire people and grow the company. I really did. But I just couldn’t make it happen. Aside from my one Korean worker (who I left high and dry all by himself after he helped me grind out 8 months in Bankstown), I wasn’t able to get anyone legit to work with me.
Or maybe I just wasn’t able to motivate and/or train them properly. I don’t know what it was. Maybe I didn’t take a close enough look at it.
I get the feeling that would be easier to do in America. More Israelis, less earning potential (so people are more eager to work), and working 11 hour days hardens you into a killing machine. Lots of potential partners as well.
But do I really want to do that? Work 11 hour days? Live in America? Fuck me that sounds boring as fuck.
No. I need to move on. I need to grow. I need to do something different that offers the same benefits of kiosk sales (lots of talking to new people every day, dopamine kicks from frequent acts of selling, constant contact with new women) but make more money in the process. Maybe I should figure that out.
What I want:
- Lots of flirting conversation with new girls
- Lots of selling
- Physically active job
- Able to express myself freely
I don’t know what that is yet, but I do know what it isn’t: working on my computer 11 hours a day. It’s like I’ve traded one prison for another. One of them is in an artificially lit mall. And the other one is on my couch.
But let’s be real — I don’t REALLY work 11 hours a day on my computer. I do maybe 2–3 hours of work in the morning and spend the rest of the day trying to figure out what to do with myself. My problem now is that I have TOO MUCH time.
My problem now is that I’m not focused ENOUGH on a new goal.
My problem now is that I haven’t been able to settle on a new thing that I want to do that will propel me forward indefinitely.
But that’s hard to choose, you know? Like I have all these things I *want* to do. Or all these things I want to obtain, I should say.
- Build a popular YouTube channel
- Become a Tim Ferris -type celebrity who writes articles about shit he learned how to do
- Be a model photographer for hot girls
- Become a PUA dating coach
- Be a snake diet coach
I want to do all these things, but for some reason I just can’t bring myself to do any of them. I just keep fantasizing about what life would be like if I had acquired them. But then I’m like, “Okay cool, I’ll get started on that after I go to the gym.”
Then I go to the gym, come back exhausted and don’t do shit.
Repeat ad nauseum until you’re 35 years old with a bunch of worthless cryptocurrency and then you’ve got the official Yalla Papi experience.
I know what I really need to do is just pick something and start working on it. Seriously, just fucking pick one thing and start going for it. Stop being a little bitch and just do it.
Like I’m SUPER SERIOUS about renting out my apartment and flying to Thailand by the end of the week. There’s not much that could stop me. I’m about to put my apartment on AirBnb and buy my ticket. Why? I’ve decided that I’m going to do it. I’ve made my decision and that’s that. It’s not up for discussion anymore.
If only I could nail down some other thing that I want to do with such conviction!
Yes, I know that the flight will be a bitch. I’ll be in uncertain territory until I get there, get my expenses sorted, and start building up my client base from scratch again. But I don’t care. I’ve made my choice and the leverage I have over myself (“I don’t like New York enough to get a real job to continue to afford living here.”) is strong enough to enable me to barrel through any discomfort that I’ll find along the way in order to get what I want.
Maybe that’s what I’m missing — leverage.
I made a joke with a friend of mine the other day that leverage is just the Silicon Valley circlejerk way of saying “desperation.” Kind of tongue in cheek but I’ll be damned if it isn’t true. I’m fucking desperate as fuck to leave this place because if I don’t, I’ll literally run out of money and be FORCED to go sell hair straighteners somewhere for lack of other options.
I always thought that I could keep another few years of military service in my back pocket as a last resort — but I’ve actually gotten to the point where I’m too old to join the military now.
It’s do or die time baby.
Honestly though, I think my real problem is that my goals just aren’t big enough. My appetite for success just isn’t there. I’m happy with a bed, a gym and enough food to get me through the day. Give me sun and ocean and I’m happy as a clam.
What more do I need to strive for? Why bust my ass to obtain things when I have everything I want? What good is a bigger apartment going to do for me when the payoff is minimal? What do I need a fancy car for when fresh food, a beautiful beach and hundreds of beautiful women are all within walking distance?
Seriously — how to overcome this?
Have I hacked my life too perfectly to the point where I don’t actually desire anything? Isn’t this bad? Where’s the motivation to continue striving? Don’t I need some of that in my life? When will I get to the point where that’s not enough? Isn’t it bad to be at a point of maximum satisfaction? Is it bad to “make it?”
I agree it’s important to want nice things. But what exactly do you even want? Maybe I’m romanticizing it a little bit, but when I was living in Thailand the only thing I wanted that I didn’t have was a little more social interaction with the opposite sex. And I lived in a fucking hostel for crying out loud.
Traveling in Vietnam was great because I made good friends and went out nearly every night. Plenty of girls, nice little rotation… it was amazing. Why did I leave?
I don’t know.. isn’t that bad? What about planning for the future? I mean, not like really planning for the future like a 401k and shit, but planning to always be able to enjoy yourself on that level in the future? Someday I’ll be too old to chill with 20 year olds. I won’t in be able to maintain the kind of physical fitness that I have now. And then what? What am I going to do then?
Because when that day comes I won’t be able to live like this. And that day is not far off. I’m 35 now. 40 is just around the corner. I’ll be able to do this until I’m 45, tops.
I need to plan something. I need to figure out what I want and make shit happen to get it. I know it won’t be that hard to do, I just need to do it. No more of this wishy washy “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life!” bullshit. Time to fucking sac up and do it.
Right after I go to the gym.