Success models

We can’t stay here

The dinner itself was fun and the food was killer. It was also good to see the fellas outside of the gym and in our regular selves.

Him: I’m starting up a new venture with some big Hollywood stars.
Me: Do you need a lazy, high-functioning alcoholic lawyer?
Him: Oh, we have one of those already.
Me: Dammit.

It was so much, in fact, that we ended up staying out until they turned on the lights in the restaurant.

Him: I think they’re trying to tell us something.
Me: Yeah, we don’t have to go home, but we can’t stay here.

Most of what we discussed is unprintable, either because it was about the business or because it was about our personal lives.

Him: …and then the kid and his friends came out with guns and started firing.
Me: Well, I’m not visiting you there, then.

Told you once that you’re the average of the five people that you spend the most time with. These people should be your success models: The people we wanna be.

But there are probably just as many failure models in your life as there as success models. These are the people that are people like the consistently poor decision-makers, the immature, the selfish, the willfully ignorant, etc. Unfortunately, it’s a lot easier to end up with failure models than success models.

Him: I remember some of the advice he gave me.
Me: Man, taking business advice from him is like taking relationship advice from someone that’s never been in a good one.

Chad and I know a fella that’s super-focused on building, essentially, a martial arts cult for some mythical yesteryear versus a commercially successful business for 2022 NYC.

It’s mental masturbation full of nonsense versus concerted, dispassionate grind. And a life focused on mental masturbation produces precisely the same result as a life focused on actual masturbation. After all, if you keep doing what you do, you keep getting what you get.

He’s our walking, talking, cautionary tale.

In the end, we picked the investors because they’re all very successful in their respective fields and all had a skill or attribute that would be a tangible benefit to the gym and each other.

A plus is that they’re all extremely good fighters in their respective arts, which helps if you’re running a martial arts gym.

It stopped raining when we finally left.

Me: We should do this again, soon.
Investor 1: I’m away for the next three months at [a resort I own]. You guys should visit.
Investor 2: I’m away for the next two months in [the Caribbean with my family].
Investor 3: I’m in Europe for a day for work this week but back for the holidays and then traveling again.
Me: Clearly, I’ve made some poor life choices. If I didn’t have the kid in school…

Speaking of the kid, he and I put up a Christmas tree together. I bought a slightly larger tree than the one that was damaged, and I had to toss.

It was the first time we decorated a tree together. Man, he was so happy. I told him the story – as best I could – of each ornament, alla which had a story with them.

Him: The bell really works!
Me: (laughing) Yes, yes it does.
Him: It’s so cool! (thinking) I miss mommy.
Me: (sighing)

When he went to bed, I sat there and just stared at the tree for a while before I poured myself a glass of fine aged rum and thought about all of my possible pasts.

God, I fucking hate the holidays.

Location: earlier yesterday evening, looking at diamond rings
Mood: hopeful
Music: He’s been living in a pure illusion (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Déjà vu with burgers and lobsters

A business dinner

Me: I think I’ve been here before.
Him: You don’t remember being at a place called Burgers & Lobster?
Me: (pointing to wall) Well, I remember seeing lobster pots at a restaurant I went to, but that whole time was a blur.
Him: (laughing) I’m gonna say you’ve been here before.

The other investors of Paxibellum and I had our end-of-year dinner this week to go over where we were with the gym.

I screwed up the times so two of them were already at the bar when I showed up – it was raining and, despite it being just a few blocks from the gym and me with an umbrella, I showed up with my bottom half pretty wet.

Chad picked the joint, which is odd because that dude does not like seafood.

After I settled into the bar, I felt this huge sense of déjà vu. It was only when I saw the lobster pots on the wall that I realized that I’d gone there with Nadi and Kung.

Nadi about to devour some lobster, four years ago.

I had spent the night before with Gradgirl and she had brought over a bottle of vodka, which I recall I enjoyed.

Me: Have you ever had some fine aged rum?
Her: No, is it any good?
Me: It’s my favourite because if you take really bad rum, and put it on a ship…

I’d just met her and she was honestly just lovely.

We communicated via disappearing messages the entire time so I literally have nothing to remember her by except my own cloudy memories, which bums me out more than I can express.

I remember waking up the next morning and, like most of that time, not wanting to do anything but stay in bed with my bottles of rum/vodka. And her.

But I’d already told Nadi and Kung that I’d meet up with them. So, I remember crawling out of bed and getting ready to go.

I don’t recall if Gradgirl stayed or left that morning but I remember that she was the first person I actually wanted to spend any time with versus going out to put on a good show for my friends.

To be honest, there’s a good part of me that wonders if she was real at all. Nothing seems real before I recovered from COVID.

Maybe I made it all up.

In any case, it was strange walking into the same restaurant, this time with a completely new set of friends, save for Chad, whom I really didn’t know all that well at that time.

Haven’t talked to Nadi and Kung in a while; suppose I’ll ring them up this week. I think I cried twice sitting with them that morning. Don’t remember much of that time.

Except that so many people – friends, new friends, and strangers – were kind and worried about me.

I dunno if I truly thanked everyone for their kindness during that time.

Hope they know I appreciated it then, and still do now.

Getting back to now, Chad and the remaining investor showed up (another was away) not long afterward and we got seated.

As it happened, the investors and I literally sat in the same area that Nadi, Kung, and I sat at four years prior. Fuck…it’s been four years.

As for Gradgirl, I’ve not seen her in years but, in my head, she’s finally happy with her fella.

We should all be happy with our person.

There’s more but I’ll finish it up later on this week.

Location: earlier today, trying on some new gear at Paxi
Mood: drunk
Music: You’re better off this way, I was never gonna stay (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

And I pay it

The keys to the kingdom

My son’s memory is pretty insane. My SIL and I once went to a parking deck and I thought we parked the car on the fourth floor, my SIL on the 3rd, and my son thought we parked on the second.

Me: There’s no way [it’s on the second floor].
Him: It was the second.
Her: That’s impossible.
Him: (10 minutes later) I tooooooold you!
Her: How is that possible?
Me: I have no idea. He’s ridic.

This past Friday, I completely forgot that he was due for his second shot but got an email reminder. I quickly had to cancel a bunch of plans and reschedule things to make this appointment.

Her: How could you forget your son’s appointment?
Me: Lady, you wouldn’t believe the stuff I’m forgetting these days. I’ll make it up to you.

Picked the boy up from school and, after his music lesson, sat him down and put my hands gently on his shoulders:

Me: OK, kid. I have good news and bad news. The good news is that we’re having dinner together and you can have anything you wan…
Him: McDonalds!!
Me: (laughing) OK, a deal’s a deal. We’ll get McDonalds. (deep breath) OK, the bad news is…
Him: More bad news? I’m already getting a shot!
Me: Wait, how did you know that?
Him: It’s the 3rd. I’m getting it at 6PM tonight.
Me: Whoa…that’s…whoa…

Legit, he remembered something that was mentioned in passing by the nurse, after he’d gotten both the flu and COVID shots. Crazy.

He didn’t even wince when he got stuck, let alone cry.

Me: Are you ok? Did it hurt?
Him: (shrugging) Not really. Can I have candy?
Me: Heck, yeah!

This is not to say that alla my conversations this weekend were easy. A buddy of mine asked to meet up.

Him: We need to talk.
Me: Do I need to be armed for this conversation?
Him: I hope not.
Me: Fair. (taking a seat) What’s going on?

It was unpleasant but not altogether bad. It was half about me and half about another buddy of ours.

Me: People like him never understood the power of these tools. [Our buddy] who mocked [the three-step apology] thinks it’s a joke, but you see its power now.
Him: It’s gold. It’s amazing.
Me: (nodding) And that’s why he’ll never be as good as you, in health, wealth, or relationships. None of them will. Because they think all these things I do are an inconsequential joke. But you know – you’ve seen – that these are the keys to the kingdom.
Him: I know I owe you a debt for these things.
Me: (shaking head) That’s where you’re wrong. You don’t owe me a debt; I’m repaying a debt I owe you. You gave me something I wasn’t entitled to, that put me in your debt. And I pay it.
Him: I appreciate that. (later) I see your rage and I’m sorry because I know where it comes from. But…
Me: (interrupting) I know. I’m well-aware…

The next day, I had a young new sitter come by to take care of the kid while I ran a seminar at Paxibellum given by the big man in my system, Tuhon Bill McGrath of Pekiti Tirsia International.

It was the first of what I had hoped would be regular guest seminars at the gym. We were packed to the seams with attendees, which was impressive…

Attendee 1: I remember reading, “Logan Lo,” and I thought, where do I know that name from? And then I remembered: You’re the Scenic Fights guy! I’ve seen every video!
Me: (laughing) That’s great. Thanks for the support.
Him: How long have you been doing this for?
Me: 17 years?
Him: What? How old are you!?
Me: Ah, we’re playing the game…

…but, Chad and I are making more moves with the gym that we didn’t anticipate – some annoying but some really quite cool and unexpected.

I’ll tell you all about them when and if they happen.

Attendee 2: I just want to say that I’m a big fan of Scenic Fights.
Attendee 3: (overhearing) Me too!
Me: And here I thought it was all just my mom leaving comments. Thanks, fellas.

Afterward, Bill and I took a walk back to his car.

Me: I never got a chance to say, “Thank you,” for all the kindness and support you’ve all shown me after everything went down.
Him: We’re old school, Logan. We try to take care of each other.
Me: I appreciate that, sir. I really do. Thank you.

Location: earlier tonight, looking for ice for my wrist
Mood: grateful
Music: yeah, that’s my kid / did I leave a better life for the rest? (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Same as everyone else

My addictive personality

Me: I’ve lived here close to 30 years.
Him: How’s that possible?
Me: Did it the same way as everyone else: At a rate of 60 minutes an hour, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. That’s how.

My friends around the way have the nicest apartment I’ve ever been to – on the Upper West Side or otherwise.

But, recently, I met up with a fella from my gym that has a pad along Central Park with some jaw-dropping views. My friends around the way still have the nicer pad but…man, it’s close.

Some other people stopped by and we all chatted for a bit.

It’s weird, I never have a problem meeting new people but who stays and who leaves my Venn Diagram is always a surprise to me.

While my friends make fun of me for my rules, I do think that it’s why so many people are willing to enter my Venn Diagram.

Because they know that I have standards I hold myself to. And those around me.

For example, there’s a reason why I’ve never done any hard drugs or have a strict three-date maximum rule: Because I have an addictive personality.

I, very easily, get addicted to things, ideas, people. Knew this since I was a kid and it was part of why I was a fat kid – I was addicted to food.

And, while it’s almost always a negative, it can be a positive: To wit, I got addicted to losing weight at 14, to the point that I went from 183 pounds to 123 pounds in six months. I lost 10 pounds a month, 2.5 pounds a week.

I got addicted to that number: 2.5. I had to lose 2.5 pounds a week. It wasn’t until a girl named Julia went up to me and said, “I’m worried about you. You don’t look well” that I realized that I was doing it again.

      • I made it a goal to read every book one side of a library once. I did that.
      • I wanted to teach myself German to high-intermediate. I did that.
      • I wanted to know how to fix a car so I built one.

Never had a drop of alcohol or drugs in college. Didn’t eat fast food for 13 years. Never cursed either. Because of my rules. Shockingly, I still managed to have friends. Dear ones.

In fact, I didn’t curse for 28 years. I started again the day she died.

Fuck.

Anywho, the friend I was chatting with about this dealt with his own demons in his life and they cost him a great deal. He was married to two models and both marriages disintegrated.

He’s very wealthy but that matters less to him than his own peace of mind, so he lives a pretty simple life.

As for me, after she died, my demons old gods all came calling and I was happy to see them. They, Gradgirl, and Daisy kept me company for a while.

Oh, my friend that I was just talking about has the third nicest apartment I’ve ever been in.

I need to up my game.

Him: Would you be willing to date someone that makes more money that you? I mean…a lot more money?
Me: Willing? That’s a weird question. Do you think my parents raised a moron? That’s the dream. (pointing at self) These looks aren’t gonna last forever, man.

Location: earlier tonight, being told I don’t look my age
Mood: so…cold…
Music: Love me when I’m gone (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Thanksgiving 2021

Yet another visit to a Medemerge

Chad and I’ve been dealing with some really crazy and creepy stalkers lately.

Honestly, considering what we do, we’re probably the best able to deal with such things but it’s still pretty horrific what we get sometimes.

I shudder to think what your average woman has to deal with out in the world.

Spent Thanksgiving with Alison’s family; her aunt and uncle came by to join the boy and me there.

Since he was the only kid there, my son was pretty restless but it all ended up fine. The assortment of desserts didn’t hurt.

Me: There’re cupcakes, pumpkin pie, apple pie, and strawberry rhubarb pie. Which one do you want?
Son: Pumpkin pie…WITH cupcakes.
Me: Well, it is Thanksgiving…
Him: What are you having?
Me: All the pies. I think pies are better than cake.
Her: You’re crazy!

I took the train home that night just to have some time to myself.

Part of the station was flooded; it seems like every place is flooding these days.

On Saturday, the gym had an open mat instead of regular classes but my wrist was still messed up so I ended up fixing some artwork we had installed a while ago but couldn’t get running right.

Speaking of pie, Mouse was there and brought a large apple pie to the gym. Afterward, several of us went to a local bar to get a drink and we brought the pie in tow.

Some old friends from our old gym were there and it was nice catching up. A fella was there from our old gym and I recalled when Pac and I went to his mom’s funeral and had dollar pizzas and tacos outside in the rain. I got our buddy a sandwich.

I think that day was the first time I talked to Pac outside of the gym.

Him: Thanks for coming that day.
Me: Of course. I’m sorry I had to.
Him: And I’m sorry for everything you had to go through too.
Me: You and me both, man.

The next day, I woke up and my wrist was just awful. This is despite not rolling.

My MIL brought my son back that morning and then my brother and his girl came by for lunch.

Because they were here, I decided to go get an xray of my wrist to finally start the process of seeing if I had to get an MRI and, finally, surgery if need be.

Me: Can you watch the kid for me? I might be up to an hour.
Brother: Sure.

So, I took a deep breath and went to the same medemerge that I always go to.

Ended up being there a lot longer than I expected but it was a mixture of good and bad news.

Doc: I don’t think it’s something that requires surgery but I’m not an orthopedist.
Me: So, you think I should get an MRI?
Her: It wouldn’t hurt.

They gave me my x-rays and I went back home. Afterwards, my bro and his girl went off to the Hudson Yards and the kid and I just had dinner together.

Pac, KG Betty, another female friend, and Chad all gave me a ring afterward for various reasons.

It was nice that people wanted to see how I’m doing.

But it looks like I’ll be heading to a hospital regardless if I want to or not.

Me: Why me?
Her: (pause) For some reason I trust you.
Me: You don’t even know me. (pause) I’m not good at hospitals for reasons I’d rather not get into.
Her: I don’t have anyone else.
Me: (sighing) OK, I’ll help.

On that note, there’s only Christmas and New Year’s left.

Location: the pad, making soba noodles for the kid for dinner
Mood: missing home
Music: Our house I’ll miss the most (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

A lawyer, by trade

Waiting for the holidays to be over

Her: I read your blog, the one about your wife and the five dollars. Are you a writer?
Me: No, I’m a lawyer, by trade. You?
Her: I’m a journalist. You write beautifully. You should do it again.

Met a woman, recently, that came across my blog, somehow. It’s a different world now.

When I first started this blog, there wasn’t Facebook, Instagram, or any social media to speak of.

Now it’s too easy to find and know everything about me so I have to be much more careful.

I dated a journalist once. That was an unmitigated disaster.

Seven months before Alison got sick, told you that I was stopping this blog. Didn’t tell you that it was because Alison was pregnant – after all, we lost so many babies, why jinx this one too?

Besides, we were planning on making major changes.

I was going to work remotely but pare down my workload, as was she. The two of us were going to sell the apartment and move out to NJ to raise the kid with green grass and shade.

I was gonna write more fiction. The thing with writing is that your mind can only crank out so much quality stuff before you’re just churning.

That’s part of why I don’t post every day; I’d rather have one or two good posts than a series of crappy ones. So, I stopped the blog to focus on writing.

In the end, that was the one pregnancy that stuck and we thought we’d finally be ok.

But it all turned to shit anyway.

Now, I just have zero – absolutely zero – desire to write do anything beyond this blog, hang with the kid, and run the gym.

And even then, it’s always the same thing, a blur of people and things that I barely remember.

Voltaire once said that, Madness is to think of too many things in succession too fast, or of one thing too exclusively.

If that’s the criteria, then I’m clearly starkers. Clearly.

I’m dreaming all the time again – some good, some less so.

Saw my family recently. My brother’s back in town; his girl’s coming in later on this week. She’s sweet. My dad woulda liked her. I hope they end up together.

Met a stylish young woman on the ride home. She wore bell bottoms and shoes with sapphires on them. She thought the kid was adorbs.

But I’m not me right now so I just thanked for the company and carried my sleepy son home. She laughed and waved goodbye to us. The kid waved back, sleepily.

Him: I’m so tired.
Me: Good. Then maybe you’ll have some nice dreams.
Him: She was pretty. Is she your friend?
Me: Maybe in a different life.

It’s Thanksgiving soon.

I just want the holidays to be over.

Location: with my mom, telling her that I loved her
Mood: dreaming
Music: damn that’s stylish. Smiling, don’t pay attention to the mileage (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Thinking the kid and I are awesome

Trying to simplify

Since we’re talking about parenting, right after I wrote the last entry, read about a dad in a helicopter, bear hugging his daughter as the helicopter went down.

The daughter was the only survivor. He used his own body as a cushion for her.

Him: Holy shit.
Me: Right?
Him: I see you doing something like that, Logan.
Me: Jesus Christ, let’s hope we never find out.
Him: Honestly, if women knew what kind of dad you were, they would beat your your door down.
Me: How do I tell people I’m a good dad?
Him: (laughing) Easy, just show them the kid.

I’m much more careful about who I introduce to him, though.

There was one blond, hazel-eyed girl who was one of the most dispassionately attractive women I ever dated.

But I kept my emotional distance from her because she made it clear that she too “didn’t mind” that I had a kid and definitely didn’t want any of her own.

Female friend: I think she’d meet the kid and fall in love with him. Everyone does.
Me: I can’t take that chance.
Her: Wait, so that’s it?
Me: Pretty much. 

Even when I was in the height of my dating frenzy in my 30s, the paramount thing that I was looking for was someone that would be a good mother.

Ideally, someone that was also brilliant and hot as blazes was a close second but being a good mother came first. Because being a good mother/parent subsumes most of the other stuff I’m looking for.

Hot as blazes not withstanding (brilliant is subsumed under “good parent”).

And just like then, I let a lot of really great women go in the hopes of getting someone awesome – that thinks the kid and I are awesome too.

Figure that’s worth waiting for. Everything else is just wasting time. Besides, I did it once before.

Plus, I actually have two acquaintances that are going through divorces right now because they married people that are not good mothers. Full-stop.

Both are pretty gutted about the whole thing – met one of the wives as well and thought she was pretty nice but we all have our three lives.

Him: I swear, she uses him as leverage against me and that’s all he’s worth to her.
Me: Are you sure you’re not exaggerating at all?
Him: I wish I was. I think maybe if the kid was white, it would be different…
Me: Holy crap, I didn’t even think about that!
Him: Yeah. Once her family got involved, it was over.
Me: (nodding) Oh man, I’ve been there before. If the family’s against you, you got zero chance.

Life is so complex these days. I wish there was some way to simplify it. Or maybe it’s me that making it so.

Him: Can I sit next to you?
Me: Sure. Why?
Him: (climbing up onto sofa) Cause you’re my papa!
Me: Well, alllrrriiight!

And now we switch pensive thoughts for some extreme violence: The above is Chad and me breaking down a little show called Squid Games.

Definitely don’t watch if you haven’t seen it yet since it’s chock fulla spoilers.

Man, did we have fun shooting that episode…

Location: on a couch with some homemade ramen and the kid
Mood: forgetful but happy
Music: they told me I don’t need to worry (Spotify)
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Late nights drinks and a sleepover

Such a kick

Parental guilt is no joke.

On the one hand, I try to be social so that I don’t get burnt out or feel any sort of resentment towards the kid. On the other had, I feel guilty every time I don’t spend a night or day with him.

This past weekend, saw a few friends, including Chad and the Scenic Fights guys on one night. We went to a joint near the gym and one guy brought Chick-a-Fil.

Him: I hate supporting them but they do make delicious sandwiches.

Tried my best to resist but the carbs were calling me. Besides, I already ordered an Old Fashioned with Rye.

Presently, we realized that all of us, save one, lost our dads in one way or another.

Him: I didn’t take his dying seriously enough, I don’t think. I didn’t think he’d die. And then, in the end, I wonder if he knew how much he meant to me.
Me: I did the same. Didn’t think my dad would die either. But, now that I’m a father, I can tell you this: The only thing your dad really cared about is that you were ok. If my kid hated me, it’d break my heart, yeah. But if I knew he was happy and safe that’s all that would really matter, man. That’s the only thing that matters to any good parent.

Fathers and sons/parents and kids. It’s really amazing how much we influence them.

And vice versa.

Which brings me back to my guilt comment.

My sister’s been offering to bring her kids over for a sleepover for some time now so this past weekend, I agreed to one night and the kids were over the moon.

After a particularly unhealthy night of eating, we all got up early the next day to head over to the Museum of Natural History.

The last time I was inside it was in 2018 with Gradgirl, although I swear I went there with someone else entirely afterward.

Just goes to show how fuzzy my head is these days (I went by the building myself during the height of the pandemic, but I suppose that doesn’t count).

As luck would have it, the streets were closed; it’s a pretty cool thing to be able to just wake up and walk a few blocks to an internationally famous museum.

Or run, as the case may be…

They seemed to like most of it….

…although things like the elevator were the biggest hits.

On the way back, they found an oversized Jenga set in the middle of the (closed-off) street and just sat down to play.

Ended up picking up food from my fave Chinese joint around the way for everyone before they all left.

Him: Aw, I miss them already.
Me: I have something else for us to do. Get dressed!

Because my kid loves classic rock, I brought him back out to see a cover band around the way.

Like I said, it’s nice living in a hood where everything is a block or two away.

It was way too cold to stay out too long, though.

Him: What now?
Me: One more thing, kiddo.

My old college buddy Buckley was in town with his family to get their kids booster shots – also at the museum (!) – so they stopped by for a spell too and the kid entertained their kids while I caught up with the adults.

I’d not seen his wife in ages. She marveled at how big the boy was.

Her: I see Alison in him. In his face.
Me: Yeah. (sighing) She woulda gotten such a kick outta him.

Location: the greatest neighborhood in NYC
Mood: a bit less guilty
Music: The girl that’s driving me mad is going away (Spotify)
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

I don’t mind

Dreaming of Paris

Made three women cry recently; all essentially strangers. One was business, two were personal.

Me: Do I come off as scary or a jerk?
Him: You do get intense.

The business one was over video chat. In no way, shape, or form did I attack her personally, I just wanted to know why, literally, everything my client was promised did not come through to fruition.

In 25+ years of business, I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone just break down in front of me. I don’t think I even raised my voice. No cursing, no name calling.

Her: Industry average is 15-20 days.
Me: We’re at 21 days. So you’re telling me that you’re not even doing average work. You’re offering me below average work. Lemme ask you, if you came to me and I said, “I’m gonna provide you with below average work,” would you hire me?

And then…it all went sideways. With waterworks. My client and I just sat there, wondering what the hell just happened.

The other conversations didn’t go any better.

One was sad and involved someone else that lost her family. I knew I wasn’t her fella but we traded our sad stories, anywho.

Her: Are you ok now?
Me: (laughing) “Ok,” is a very relative term. (later) What about you?
Her: I’ll be ok. I’ll leave you alone now. Thanks for listening to me.

The last was an acrobat who cooked Greek food. I seem to have a thing for short-haired adrenaline junkies with a particular look.

But she said something that irritated me no end.

Her: I’m always the girl that people want to have fun with but never the one they want to stay with. (later) If you send me an Uber, I’ll come on over.
Me: It’s late. Kid’s got school tomorrow.
Her: I don’t mind if you have a kid, BTW.

My kid is not someone you don’t mind. My kid is made of awesome. You’d be lucky to meet him, let alone, have him in your life.

That ended things before they could begin.

There’s this song where this guy asks a girl what she’s looking for and she answers, Something that I want.

It’s weird. My buddy and I meet new people all the time. It’s in our nature.

But he finds something in them that intrigues him whereas I just can’t seem to want anything from anyone.

He sees colour everywhere. I only see grey.

Him: You and your rules, Logan. They’re insane.
Me: My rules keep me, and those around me, safe. You’re safe because of my rules. Imagine if I didn’t have them. We’re where we are right now, because of my rules.

I’ve been day-dreaming of Paris lately. Sometimes, I regret deleting people from my phone and life.

But it’s one of my rules.

Speaking of fuzzy memories, on the plus side, I got some sleep recently thanks to my friend Miller, so I’m relatively more clear-headed.

Clear-headed is a relative term as well.

MIL: Did you buy me cereal and have it sent to my house?
Me: I’m gonna say no but lemme double-check.

Me: Who did you hear that from?
Pac: You, Logan. You told me that.
Me: Jesus Christ. I cannot be trusted with anything these days, man.

Location: home, with four pounds of steak, somehow
Mood: rested(ish)
Music: He’s been living in a pure illusion (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Who are you?

Not as long as you need me

Pac: You already told me this.
Me: I did? Sorry, I’m forgetting a ton of things.
Him: What is wrong with you?
Me: Well, insomnia, a possible concussion, lots of pharmaceuticals and general feelings of pain and loss. I’m actively trying to forget things and people and sometimes other things get caught up.
Him: Great, now I feel bad for saying anything.

Recently made a channel on YouTube for Paxibellum and got a call from one of the producers of Scenic Fights. Evidently, I did a number of things he wasn’t happy about but mainly…I did it twice.

Him: …AND you uploaded the videos twice to each channel!
Me: I did it in my insomnia phase so I’ll take them down. Sorry.

Evidently, Sleepy Logan’s back. It also appears that he’s on a health food kick because there are half-a-dozen avocados, and two large containers of salads in my fridge that I have zero recollection of getting.

MIL: I bought toys for him. You told me you got them and put them away.
Me: Mom, I hid them so well, that I forget everything about them.

Chad’s been telling me to get an MRI and I really struggled with whether or not to do it but I ultimately decided that there’s nothing to be done.

Let’s say, arguendo, that I do have a concussion, what is there to do but wait and see how everything shakes out?

Plus, I’ve been to every fucking brain MRI joint in this goddamn city. I know what they all smell and sound like. I will literally walk in the door and projectile vomit.

Chad also thinks I should get one on my wrist, shoulder, and neck since all three are pretty messed up. Those I’m still considering.

The wrist one bothers me the most because, who/what am I if I can’t hold a sword again? Because, in my head, I’m a swordsman.

That’s how I define myself to myself.

I’m living in waking dreams again; remembering things from possible pasts again.

Him: You know the difference between the devil and a demon?
Me: No, tell me.
Him: The devil is a creation of god himself. He exists because god allows him to exist. But a demon is a god. It’s what the Judeo-Christians called any old god that existed prior to their god. So that’s why the devil looks like Pan, an old Roman god.
Me: So you believe in god?
Him: I believe God is an asshole. He has nothing to do with me, and I have nothing to do with him.

Always found it somewhat poetic that demons are our old gods. The things we used to worship in the past, torment us in the present.

Speaking of torment, both the kid and I getting nightmares for some reason.

Him: Sorry to wake you. I’m worried there are snakes in my room.
Me: Dude, there are no snakes in Manhattan. If you’re gonna worry about something, worry about flooding, which is an actual issue.
Him: (eyes widening in horror) We might flood again!?
Me: (fuuuuuuuuuccckkk…)

In any case, before Alison, my old gods were various pharmaceuticals and late night excursions. But she became my new god and my old gods faded away.

But I lost her and found other new gods. Then I lost those new gods as well

I honestly wonder if I made one up completely or if she was real. Told you once that my insomnia means that I can even remember things that never happened, people that never existed.

Coupled with a possible concussion, I’m lucky I remember my own name these days. And my old gods/demons are back as if they never left, even though the devil has.

Then again, I have one shiny new god I adore in the form of a tiny human.

Him: Halloween was last week! You mean, “See them for Thanksgiving!?”
Me: I said, “Halloween?”
Him: Yes! You’re being silly, papa!
Me: So, I am. It’s time for bed.
Him: (quietly) Don’t go. Please. I’m scared.
Me: What are you afraid of?
Him: I don’t know. (thinking) What if you’re not here when I wake up?
Me: Why would you think that?
Him: [People leave].
Me: Not me. I won’t leave you. Not as long as you need me.

Location: home with the kid and Sleepy Logan
Mood: fuzzy
Music: I really wanna know, who the fuck are you? (Spotify)
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.