Dinner’s ready.

I’m finding my desk quite peaceful right now. There’s just something to this seat, the darkness of the screen, and the dimly lit room behind me. Driving back from training after a long day, whining like a little child that has homework to do when he get’s home, the last thing I really wanted to do was sit here.

But I’m enjoying it. There’s something to the consistency of just showing up every time, regardless of how you feel (barring any insanity), and at least doing a little bit of work. Who knows, you could go on for hours and create something beautiful, or you could go for 10-20 minutes and do something else with your evening. That’s fine too, at least you showed up. This isn’t a 9-5, we’re not locked into our artistic pursuits, but we need to show up when we say we’re showing up and TRY to accomplish something.

The clock is reading 21:37 and I’ve never really investigated as to how to change it from military time, but there’s a part of me that’s looking at it thinking that reading it as is will help me in the long run. There’s no military experience but knowing that it’s 9:38 when you see 21:38 is like reading a numeric language, right?

Today was one of the first days in a while where I met a man that was hellbent on telling me I was wrong. He never actually came out and said it, but he dug his feet in the ground and rejected any logic I threw at him. Sometimes a motherfucker just wants to tell us we’re wrong. That’s fine, but it probably explains why you’re a miserable person. If nothing is right in the world and everyONE is wrong, then how could you even enjoy a nice sunny day? In fact, I said “have a nice day” as I was leaving and he said his day was over. “But you can still enjoy some sunshine!” as I pointed to the beautiful blue sky above us and I got a “HRRUMPH I’m going inside because I’m a crotchety old man that needs everyone to get off my lawn.”

Then I met a dude that came out of his house in his underwear. Then after a brief conversation he invites me inside while he’s blaring some old 70’s rock…in his underwear. Fairly intelligent gentlemen apparently are hoarders and love wearing nothing but their underwear. That’s cool…I guess.

The life of a door-to-door salesman isn’t glamorous, but holy shit do I really get to meet the salt of the Earth type of people. At least the guy in his underwear was really friendly. He only grabbed at my pants 3 times. No, not really. It was like 7. I also met some people getting ready for a bridal shower and someone trying to renovate his Mom’s old house so that he could buy it. There are a lot of friendly people out there and they’re receptive to what you have to say when you’re just a jovial human being trying to make a living. The audacity! Especially when a lot of people don’t have a great understanding of why they’re paying more on their bills.

There’s a lot of people out there that will converse without argument when you specifically come from a place of helping others. I’m not entirely sure if that makes sense, but it should. Come with the intent of helping and do it from the heart and good things will come. At least, I keep telling myself that…

Change how you see the world and the world you see will change.

People need some help and everyone should be trying to help everyone. In some way, in some manner, you should be making a conscious effort to help humanity. Your purpose is your own, but it’s always easier when the purpose is for everyone and not just yourself. It’s easy to let yourself down, but to let down humanity? Now you’re a REAL ass.

Dinner is ready, I love you all.

About krisoakey

Simply a man playfully chasing enlightenment while encouraging others to join him through mockery, logical anomalies, and hand holding...LOTS of hand holding
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s