Spit First, Transcribe Later, Chapter 4

Good morning, this is Loki of Literati. Woke up so late. Aaaaugh. Still wet, tired and sleep on my face, running from my eyes. Awww man, it's so gray outside I didn't even feel like getting up. I just missed Jiu Jitsu. It starts in 10 minutes. I'm not gonna' make it. I think I gotta' find something else to do instead. Get out of my head. You gotta forgive yourself when you don't meet your goals. Find another goal. I realized today that if I feel a bunch of guilt over being lazy then I'm just gonna' wilt under and get hazy. I gotta' say "Wait, what else is out there?" If I didn't do the first thing that's not a laissez-faire attitude. That's okay, what do I gotta sling? Gotta keep moving with the momentum. Run the sum. What do I got? What am I gonna' do? It's still gray outside. I can still go on a bike ride or do a hike. I can still make today all about doing what I like before I go to work. I can still get my animal on, my berserk. I can still get my martial training. I'm still partial to pushing past the lump, ignore the pain, no straining. The more endurance plays we do the more sure we are that we will truly see it as play. It's recreational. It's very much conditioning of the mind. Re-envision a challenge as a test of your talent. It's not something that's supposed to stop your whole roll. It's what the fun is of all games. It's the obstacle that you've gotta go and move it. Ultimately every story is an expression of our soul being bigger than that which is put in front of us. Life is our toll, I think. So that's what we pay in order to keep on playing the game. Maybe consciousness might've come up before life, honest I don't know about that. But I think about it every night. If Life is the game and Consciousness said "I'm gonna' throw my name in a hat and that is that." A soul had to come to be just so something could corporeally free itself to get past the reverie. If thought came before action? Then that would explain the indiscreet sought hot passion. The iron-wrought part of what's lasting. The need to leave a legacy through the years whether through our biology or our philosophy our legacy is ultimately an extension of consciousness. It's happiness and gladness and the noetic sciences and everything else that I've been finding really works. All my meditation and everything else that gives me that quick perk of energy and re-synergizes myself throughout everyday. All the luck lent to me, all the ways of shifting probability is all just a way of re-focus of consciousness. Every time I think about Quantum Theory and all the universes that bloom before us and each one is like a different road in the woods that we pick based on the consequences of our actions. I think back and say "Wait a minute, maybe that's just consciousness saying 'Hey, what's really lasting for me?'" Maybe all of those are formed. Maybe Einstein was right. Maybe every single universe that could possibly be really does exist. From every action that could be taken. If that's the case then consciousness is constantly rolling the dice. Everything that comes before us gets divided at least twice 'cause a mental decision is still an action. That vision still means that something's hatching, something at that stage for everyone. Like Page 21, the World Egg of the Tarot. Everything that just blares from your soul just comes up and awake. What happens to all those universes, all those paths that we don't take? What's the cost? Robert Frost, tell me what happens to the roads that get closed. Do they just disappear? Like yesterday? Get eaten by the Langoliers? Or do they come back around in other people's stories, are they the reason for inspiration? For edutainment? Are they reason some of us derive victory from re-writing history, taking what was inglorious and saying "I want more than a lesson. I want that testament of a real life that was worth real strife to be worth more." And divide it nice today. Turn it into fables. Turn it into advice. Wrench it right off the Creator's Table like Jack saying "Unh, huh! Goodnight! I'm out!" I don't know. But I think for sure every day is a story that we're supposed to write for ourselves. I think I woke up feeling lazy in my body and still am. If I'm lucky I might skate or bike down to the beach and cover some land before I go to work but, make a good story. That's what I'm really chattering for. This was Loki of Literati, Spit First, Transcribe Later, Chapter 4.