On the Plane

by Matt Romantech on August 11, 2017

I am on the plane.

I guess I was feeling as if I just needed to get on the plane and then I could feel as if I was letting the discs go and I was leaving it all behind.

I want to go on twitter and tweet how I’m leaving it all behind. I remember the talent quest, the bell rung half way through the song and everyone started leaving, so I tried to signal to cam to go straight into the lead break, and in the process confused tahi and just turned it into a shambles.

Why am I thinking of that now? As we pulled in to the airport, I thought of the families arriving in the intensive care the day they moved my mother out, there’d been a workplace accident and more than one worker was seriously hurt. And that’s how it is, one family has been there grieving and anxious for days, one or two are just converging under tragic circumstances.

I guess it’s life, the world keeps turning and here I am.

I was standing in the intensive care, I was the one hammered for months and years by Paul’s bullshit and I am the one who has risen again.

Events in life happen, big things, good things, bad things, things, things happen and you feel a certain way, you react, perhaps not immediately but I guess, but you process things in your own time.

I was going to start writing because that’s how I reorientate to my tasks but then I had to reflect, I feel so normal about this all of a sudden, and that’s where all these memories started coming back.

I am not driven by revenge, I am task oriented.

What am I doing on this plane? I am task oriented.

I have a duty to tear the joy in life from Paul’s hands any way I can. That is my answer to what he has put to me.

I will use the experience to make hay – my revenge concept project – it’s art. It’s conceptual. It’s not simply petty vindictiveness, a feel a duty to it, yet I want to “make the most” of it.

But the point I am drifting toward is that I am on this plane because I am task oriented.

I am not sitting in this chair drooling over ukrainian girls. I am task oriented, and in life, I felt, you need a woman, but again, I feel detached from that right now.

I guess I was . . . you see a beautiful woman and you want that. It’s the most natural thing.

But somehow I feel detached from that right now and I am wondering on it.

I am on this plane because I felt I had to.

I am learning what I can do on the plane – I have power as it turns out, but no internet, but for 20mb to post a tweet or whatever.

It’s good! I had a meal and a beer and put a movie on and it’s been good. I keep feeling like I want to spark a joint and just relax. Suddenly I’m not anxious and this adds to my feeling of detachment.

Anxiety comes from a sense that the stakes are high, no matter how deeply it’s buried under the nervousness.

Are the stakes no longer high? Does it lead back, as it all seems to, to the trading? Well if it does, then it only makes sense that we understand that it’s something that will take it’s own time and it’s best to accept that other priorities have room to take their place.

Right now I am detached from the idea I’m off to hunt for hot ukrainian girls.

I am on this plane because having kids is just another duty that we have in life. Nobody made a rule that if Paul did what he did I would have to pay him back, or that I need to breed, but I felt that . . . you create the world you live in. You build the world you live in.

You want to live in a world where people can get away with utterly disrespecting you then let it be.

But if you want to live in a world where you have a loving family, then you have to build that world, and I believe the girls you want are in ukraine.

It’s weird to feel so detached from it, so task oriented about it, but that’s part of being human, knowing that how you feel right now, is not how you will always feel, or isn’t where your deeper values truly lie, but this is part of the process, that you can understand it from the outside, but you can’t really know it until you’re in it.

I knew that I would have a philosophical reaction and that’s what I’m drilling into, except rather than being overcome with this joy that the discs are over and that my reward for all the years I’ve been through is now here.

I guess feeling so relaxed and untroubled allows me the opportunity to reflect on what I really want.

I want Paul to pay. But I want to be happy also, and that won’t make me happy. What will make you happy? Well, a big fat joint.

I want to train. I want to meditate. I want to work on my tunes. I want to build as my trading will allow it. I want to find somewhere where I can build this, where I can go to chase the endless summer, where I can live this life and sell my lifestyle as a brand.

I think it keeps coming back to the fact the trading hasn’t worked yet, and it’s funny to flip back to the last blog post and see me saying, well, it’s still all the trading, you need to allow it to happen, you need to detach and allow the trading to happen.

***

I forgot to get my laptop out for the second flight and I was just to mashed at that stage to bother, I felt seedy. I hadn’t had a proper nights sleep, and I’d been wearing the same clothes for 20 hours straight.

Just stare out the window, watch a couple more movies, try to get a bit more rested, eat the mediocre airline food in the cramped little spot.

At that point I had another, stronger wave of doubt, what was it? Seeing all the couples.

I felt so detached but I was trying to draw myself back to the ukraine girls, but it didn’t work, I just felt detached like it was all just another burden, go off, find some ukrainian girl to impregnate and then raise fucking brats, in a whole miserable exercise of simply just playing out what youre supposed to do in order to battle off constantly encroaching misery, as if it were possible.

I see the couples travelling, and simultaneously I feel inadequate and yet I imagine it to be a misery, dragging the same girl you’ve fucked hundreds of times all around the place with you and having to make constant compromises.

I knew that I was just being bleak because well obviously now, I was crabby because I was tired, seedy and stinky.

I was just thinking it all seemed foolish, I’m old, I’m short, I need money to impress these girls, but I don’t even speak their language, it’s all so difficult. But what choice do I have? Unsurprisingly, this thought only made me feel more bleak.

I was trying to be task oriented and it just felt like work.

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