Maximize Your Time

Back to work. Damn it feels good.

I’m back working on movies of the week (MOWs). My boss, the 1st Assistant Camera, is a decade plus veteran, telling stories of how it was in thd old days of union monopoly. The hard asses, the egos and power, telling the 2nd and myself how good we have it in the modern industry. The 1000 yard stare of film.

While the stories are all the same and his insistance of my green-ness in this culture, a teacher need not be 100% every second to give solid advice. The most important thing he has passed on is that you only have so much time.

These shoots are non union, but if they were there would be only a certain set of hours you could work. Being in camera department means looking after a shitload of things. So if I was on a union set, I would only have 12 hours on the dot to do everything from shoot, to organize for tomorrow, for paperwork and everything else. 12 hours goes by fast when the entire day is controlled chaos.

In life, the same goes. There is only so much time to get what you want done. So settle in, train yourself and use every minute you’ve got. Because every minute you waste is another minute closer to regretting what you never did.

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Don’t Stop

My sleep had been off almost for a week. One day that lasted too long, and I just couldn’t get back into the groove. Napping days turning into sleepless nights. Frustration set in. Its still off, but I’ve had enough.

Don’t be surprised when your rest kills the rest of your spirit. It bites into your day and what you can accomplish, even if you’re unemployed. There are 960 minutes in a 16 hour day, if you sleep for 8 hours. That’s 960 minutes to get your ass in gear. To work out, to look for work, to clean, to read, to do anything, but sit there and say “There’s nothing to do.” There is always something to do that improves your body and mind.

The biggest killer of motivation is inaction. When you slow, you falter. When you falter, you fall. I’ve worked a full 24 hours, slept for 4 and then gotten back up for another 12. I’ve come home sore and collapsed to get up and do it again. I’ve burned my body to the core before and I did it because there was something coming after. Always after.

When you’re stuck in a rut where you can’t go out, work, or whatever. Remember its just a bump. Its not a roadblock that ends the road your on. Any roadblock is a barrier YOU have put up for yourself. When you say “I can’t,” its no one else’s fault but your own. Climb, dig, tear that motherfucker down brick by brick if you have to. You can trip, get scraped up and cringe through pain, you can rest for minute, but don’t ever, ever stop going towards what you want.

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Gan Eagla

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What’s the point?

Wake up. Get up. Bathe. Brush. Eat. Ignition. Drive. Work. Lunch. Work. Ingition. Drive. Open door. Sit. Watch. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

What’s the point?

What’s the point of taking up weights? What’s the point of going out for a drink and a night of pretty women rejecting you? What’s the point of socializing? What’s the point of suffering? Why do any of it?

There are plenty of people who get along just fine doing the minimum. They glide across life like a dog on ice, going and going and going until they hit the end, and that’s it. Its over. They’ve made it to the end with little effort and smile their stupid canine smile, content.

Why bother pushing yourself? Why bother trying? What’s the point? No tales will be written of you. No songs. History will forget you as it does every name that doesn’t change the world or try to conquer it through evil. You’ll never be Achilles or Leonidas or Perseus or Spartacus or Vercingetorix. Even the great heroes of the war that ushered in the atomic age, Richard Winters or John Basilone, fall in comparison to the names of the famous, the socially smart or the politically correct. Without an army, a party, a massacre or a sex tape, you are nothing but wind to history’s mountians.

What’s the point?

The point is you. The point is the effort. The point is your cause. Being the best without laurels or fame or throngs of screaming harpies and parasitic men leeching your aura, trying to taste your life through presence.

The great names of history became history to due to circumstance more than anything. Right place, right time, right choice. Not too long ago, a poor man with the right words and a strong will could usurp an empire. Men with vision could have entire islands or countries named after them. Wars fought in their name. Monuments of valor. Now, men trod along, living like kings, but feeling like slaves. Greatness comes at the behest of a dollar or the backing of a shadow government. Now, if you are not their man, you are no man, if you hold to what the world believes a man is.

What’s the point?

The point is reclaiming. The point is adventure. The point is glory and honor and pounding your chest on top of the world even if no one hears you. The point is to touch God through your blood, sweat and tears. Loosing the fat of life and leaving only the harden muscle of living.

The point is being without fear. Now, and forever.

The Before

In my quest to truly put all aside and further myself through my body, its become time to show exactly what I’m dealing with.

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I’ve been lucky to have a great metabolism, but a shitty willpower. The #1 way to defeat yourself is to be a lazy fuck.

That gut is from many days and nights of hard drinking, fast food and being hunched over a computer most of the day. In 2010, I went from 155 to 170. In 2011, I went from 170 to 200. 2012 thankfully held me at 185-190 all year.

From now on, my gains will be muscle, flexibility and fitness, not fat.

In 6 months, I’ll post new pics.

All tips, tricks and criticism is welcome.

That’s All You Are

The problem with opening yourself up is that you invite pain. You invite every flaw and every evil that others project. Being emotionally honest to everyone will quickly destroy your faith in humanity. You will become angry, bitter and dissolutioned. This is how feminists and militant MRAs are made. Somewhere they opened up fully and they ended up hurt. Instead of growing up, they grew out, reaching for reasons and looking for skulls to break.

It takes true emotional maturity to endure. The Intern (now paid) lost her mom recently. Two weeks ago, during an ice storm, her car hit black ice and now is totaled. Since she lives near me, we carpool in to Toronto. This is given us much time to talk. She still remains upbeat and ambitious, blaming no one for her pain.

When I first met her, I thought I was ready to pull out all the stops, but the situation changed and by choice I scuttled my attempts to game. This did not stop my feelings, and I found myself conflicted between trying to get her and knowing the slim chances.

The Intern was the first girl I had honest strong feelings for after the Ex. And the longer we’ve worked together, its more apparent how well of a match it is.

But the impressions have been made. The lines drawn. I am a friend and I know it. That’s all I am.

Unlike Ariel (see QuickTips comments), I am NOT lashing out because my feelings are not returned. I do not think that I am so perfect for this girl that I will destroy everything to make it happen.

I have been humbled by this experience. This is a girl I should be falling over backwards for. A broken man still in the throes of divorce finding someone like him, but not able to hold or kiss or enjoy. But I won’t. I can stand tall, without a word of selfish attention, and be a man outside of a woman’s feelings.

My emotions are not the center of me. My purpose is not to bow before romantic fantasies. Through every bit of pain, bad luck and personal poverty, I grow and endure and hold stronger to what I believe.

Ariel learned this when she came to my house uninvited. She would learn much more if she decided to become violent. I did not budge. Later she ended up getting arrested at her kids school (according to her), looking for different outlet for her anger at her powerlessness. Because that’s all she is and she’s unable to cope.

So, my friends, do not falter when things don’t go your way. Recognize reality. Every ounce of endurance builds stoic muscle. Hold to the code that we all have, and you will personally prevail sooner or later

Spartan, Part 2

Months ago, I wrote of being broke. Wasting money on bar crawls that got me exactly zero new lays.

Turns out saving money works.

I stopped hunting at multiple bars in an night. I started ejecting from the chosen location if there was no one worth hitting on. I got in the mindset of a bad day gaming is better than a good day getting angry, drunk and lonely.

Since then I’ve save enough money to start searching for a place in Toronto. Despite knowing it’s a shitty place the date, it’s where the work is. And a challenge accepted is better than staying at home.

Hitting rock bottom vaulted me to exactly where I needed to be.

Bonfire Day Update

Happy 5th of November to all the people who think Guy Fawkes was a hero and not a religious terrorist.

Other than working my ass off, I’ve been busy upping my game. The October 26 weekend started with a visit to Destiable Friend. The last visit for a while. Being a poor single mom doesn’t pay the rent, so she’s moving and it doesn’t leave any privacy. Backburner for her. The next day I was with The First, who’s back on wanting me over as much as possible. She’s gotten to a hyper level of horny and it pays off to make her wait. The Monday was the new girl, dubbed Ariel due to her mermaid obessesion. This one is straight hippie crazy, but its a good crazy. I’m greeted with a kiss, not a list of complaints about other people. The tail aint bad either.

I’ll get to all the stories I’ve missed: the Redneck Acheviement, meeting Ariel and more, in the next week.