She held the cup of coffee like a fermented bow against the dark spaces of reason. In the breach of the morning light, it was a dawn she would have like to repossess 2000 miles to the West. But here she stood at the back window of a Duluth Heights group home, snow filled to the lower trunks of the pines with passing deer just as confused-- a swallowed up memory of timeless landscape that had lost it's gravity. No movement or sound. Just vacated rabbit tracks and an un-shoveled deck. She had a hard time defining the American good life. It was like a bad clown portrait won at a local carnival that needed touch ups in the basement. Most likely the painting had clumped up acrylic laid across a velvet sheen intended to captivate magic. There was no visible magic in her life, just matchstick counting of days as her bank account increased in relation to her 30 plus hours of overtime each week. She was saving for the fate against time, the anti aging gene that would set her back 30 years into Mick Vrudny's arms. The only jilted magic currently was John Nettles, a British actor, who captivated her consciousness. She lived in his Netflix underbrush of green Midsomer meadows, stone walls and luscious English gardens. It was in the transient, tranfererable state she could begin to imagine.
Death and Life were produced from the same definitive noun -- a non tangible conception to mark beginning and end, with the same flat line emotion. A spooled consciousness that rotated poignant memories- her daughter that lie dead on a morgue table, the last words her hometown boyfriend spoke to her, the evasiveness of her father, a flicker of standing on the mountain in San Bernardino, the view of the Moreno Valley from the rim of the world. It was in those high places, away from the City of Angels or those dense forests of Minnesota where she came to be, an infrared heat source to tranquility defined apart from humans.
I can only hear the faintness of your voice as you prescribe to me in your own predestined oral values contrived from a Melody Beattie book with Joel Olsteen innuendos....the advice you thought I should heed and what concrete silhouettes fully got me out of the casino. It was by my own doing with a divine, powerful hand. My will gave into reason. A shimmering voice against the glaze of my mind, a cultural restitution of conformity that sculptured my inner objectivity into a Jesus provoked denial of materialism. It was all about separation- the separation of fleshly will to encounter divine will, the perpetuation of mortality and attempting to increase riches and multiply them from a post -mortem minimum wage. Desire, conquest, the casino imagery and baseless nonsense that drove me into plummeting bank accounts, followed by false crescendos of excess. The savage minimalism of my father who had 800,000 in the bank and wore his tattered light blue sweater 5 of 7 days a week. All I need is a BLT or a Reuben and a bank balance over $100 to be content, but I was driven to drive 20 miles to Black Bear to expand paper dollars I could not eat. (to be continued)
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Showing posts with label gambling addiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gambling addiction. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Monday, October 26, 2015
900--the empty universe.
You were my four days ago, You were my middle of the night sob story. You were destined to be my money pit. $150 later I forgot about you, whatever promises I made, your outbound bookie with crossed off numbers. You were just you. You enjoyed people. Whether you dealed or were on the slots you somehow attracted people like electro magnetic fields. You had a high command of your ideals, the principles of playing black jack but you somehow never transformed me to the high standard of ethics you relentlessly prescribed to. The rule of logic that swam around my head like a hand of loose pebbles. Knocking sense in me took more than effort. It was a shield. I spent that $100 and the $100 after that. I even spent my blood plasma money. There was only one rule of doctrine I subscribed to. Don't go in the casino with less than $100. One needed back up. At least $105. I will show you the image which you cannot imagine just from guessing about my life. It's not that you become angry with me or I become angry with myself. The gravitational pull can easily be broken, if that's what I want, what I truly want.
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I am an anatomical being, a captive of my own pagan imagery that goes beyond human comprehension or human sensitivity. I cannot explain my actions or my reasons behind it. I take vengeance into my own hands, lashing upon my own soul, a terror against my own flesh. My hand form a crippled state of postured anxiety, arthritic and deformed but ready for the next attack. I anticipate the cards, the smell, the odor, the cigarette dodging and the short sightedness of joint players. The mind game is to overcome the dealer. The redemption is rising above my conditional circumstance to a new high, the paper product, the dollar. I earn money ethically but squander it. I look for a common enemy or a spiritual tranquilizer in the middle of my transition. My feet move along. I determine the speed but not the direction.
Lights out.
I walk in the casino at noon and boom, the power goes off. I wait by a dark slot and stop by the black jack table a few minutes later to find Francine putting the new dawn cards back into the holder with a hand held phone flashlight. The casino is purely dark. Dark enough for the ceiling elegance to not even have an afterglow about them. The pop machines won't bring forth liquid or ice. I am in the afterlife, stripped of all desires. Minutes pass and now change. I look for the exit. It's time to leave even before I get an ordinance from heaven.
to be continued.
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I am an anatomical being, a captive of my own pagan imagery that goes beyond human comprehension or human sensitivity. I cannot explain my actions or my reasons behind it. I take vengeance into my own hands, lashing upon my own soul, a terror against my own flesh. My hand form a crippled state of postured anxiety, arthritic and deformed but ready for the next attack. I anticipate the cards, the smell, the odor, the cigarette dodging and the short sightedness of joint players. The mind game is to overcome the dealer. The redemption is rising above my conditional circumstance to a new high, the paper product, the dollar. I earn money ethically but squander it. I look for a common enemy or a spiritual tranquilizer in the middle of my transition. My feet move along. I determine the speed but not the direction.
Lights out.
I walk in the casino at noon and boom, the power goes off. I wait by a dark slot and stop by the black jack table a few minutes later to find Francine putting the new dawn cards back into the holder with a hand held phone flashlight. The casino is purely dark. Dark enough for the ceiling elegance to not even have an afterglow about them. The pop machines won't bring forth liquid or ice. I am in the afterlife, stripped of all desires. Minutes pass and now change. I look for the exit. It's time to leave even before I get an ordinance from heaven.
to be continued.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
For those who think they know me, I don't know you. Unfortunately, you don't know the better me. However, I am graduating from gambling treatment tomorrow.
I have a friend who I had a rift with about a year ago. He speaks in terms of obscurity and uses Gandhi like expressions for what they wish others and the world to ideally be. He has an altruistic vision of the world and he made a nice video about it but he still resorts to name calling and hate speech. This is an example of someone who is human--not fully seeing the true picture of themselves. However, every range of human emotion can be validated even if it is inappropriate. We ultimately decide who we want to be and how we can offer ourselves in friendship or persecute in hate. He does not look for the particular goodness in others. For those whom he likes (or responds to him well), he accentuates their strengths. For those he dislikes, he is quick to point out their shortcomings. He even has a video on happiness and makes it clear that one should not criticize others or point out the weaknesses of themselves. I have tried to live my life with the rush of love and goodness by connecting with people I identify with and trying to learn more about those I don't connect with. Lately when I have dealt with conflict, I have had to define and recognize with those whom I had the conflict with. I had a 4 yr friendship with a neighbor in North Hollywood in whom had a lot of good qualities of intellectual pursuit but a lot of major weaknesses including over-dependence on a woman who was simply a flake. She couldn't establish a job until she actually got one being his PCA because he was heavy with some acute health problems. She made him a lot of dinners and lived with him rent free but then would complain about the proverbial price of that exchange. Free rent is hard to come by. She didn't really want to answer to him or pay a price in which he exacted loyalty from her. There was also the imbalance that he was in love with her and she had no interest in him. In time, they became good friends. She also reached out to me, helped me pack and continued to send me letters. I was really only a marginal neighbor busy with a student teaching program. I got to know them better but knew in the back of my mind I would not be spending much more than I had to in North Hollywood. When I got my inheritance, I had to get out of the big city of L.A. and search for my childhood roots. Unlike my former friend in New York, I am not immediately hostile to anyone who has an issue or problem and the terms of the friendship aren't contracted on the difficulty of their lives. Because I had two recent conflicts with a close acquaintance but not an intimate friend and a long term friendship that was plagued with certain difficulties because of perspective, I have been forced to examine myself. The long term friendship dissolved because all of a sudden one day it ended because the continuity of our radio production and other issues were defined totally by one party and his basic disappointment with me cut off. He abruptly made decisions. There were times he was cruel to my mutual acquaintances, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and forgave him assuming his personal growth over time would include learning not how to treat people like shit. My radio show was purely recreational and I have not pursued vocational goals with it although I did start professional radio classes in Hollywood in 2012 with American Radio Network. I can examine others and watch their videos on YouTube and determine what they are trying to say or who they are even if the friendship is over. As adults, we strive for understanding and sometimes closure. Now that I have made it out of my gambling addiction and graduate March 24th, I decided to publish some of my notes from my impending speech tomorrow night. They may not make total sense, but my readers will understand where I am coming from.....enjoy!!!! I value the new friendships I have made in this one year treatment center.
I started the gambling treatment program on March 29, 2014.
Read Parable of lost sheep. Luke 15
I joined with the incentive that help may be possible but I
did not know what form I would receive it in.
It is because as a gambler, one is a perpetual runner from problems and
the excitement was in that escape.
When I first entered Center for Alcohol and Drug Treatment , I filled out the forms
and thought how could another structured environment exposing my weaknesses be
reassuring?
When I first met people in the group, some had undefined
motives for being there and others seemed to have stumble on a greater entity
known as themselves. Their actions didn’t
match their countenance or presence of mind.
They had more gifts to share with the world than they could even be
conscious of.
Candance – an inner and outward beauty and radiance.
Diane – persistence and dedication
John Clark – story telling abilities, soft sense of humor
and candidness
Dawn – a determination to plead with participants to
recognize themselves.
As soon as the essence of the program enlightened me, I
understood the nature of why someone needed to commit. Spending my whole life avoiding intimate
confrontation with myself, my savior, my son and despair from the past such as
losing a daughter by death and husband by divorce magnified the light of
struggles.
Gambling was an easy escape in which I would enter the world
of superficial light to conceal the outcome of permanent darkness. Laughing people, jokesters, those dealers who
thought they knew me and exploited my weaknesses, I became a pawn in their
game. I was attached to the one thing
that would be my ultimate destruction. Although I had allies, I was setting myself up for the final battle that would force confrontation with myself which was a cloud of eternal escape.
It seemed to be embodied in their profession that their
jabbing insults would become my potential mockery. Their act of genuity was like a false cup of
reward, ready to remove my joy.
I was unable to separate myself so a power bigger than me
made the eternal separation. It was a
result of my own actions, poor judgment and a swift decision by Native Am
management that 86’ed me for life. I
felt like Tim Tebow with incredible gifts but only possessing the scrutiny of
the media and a mockery for my true self which was a fallen Christian.
How did I find the light?
I saw it through the lines of despair and repentance of other people’s
faces as they recognized in themselves that their greater good lie outside the
actions of their temporary fix. That
there was something better within themselves that could allow them to conquer
this mad disease. For some if it was
small children at home. For others, they
could not win over their critics but they won the victory over their own
critics which included themselves.
Others had to face critical family members or job changes or financial
consequences but the purpose of overcoming was not hindered by one obstacle.
We learned to depend on others and when those who could not
define their higher power, they waded in the outpatient group by practicing the
readings, learning slowly until they could envision an outline of a higher
power that could strengthen them until the next meeting.
Some people cracked and faded, never fully gripping a self
identity that could hurdle the next challenge.
For those fallen by the wayside, I recognize your battalion of excuses
but it will only become future building blocks for the next bridge you will
have to prepare yourself to cross. You
cannot escape yourself.
Running turns to walking and to stillness until the vision
eventually becomes complete. Then you
find new ways to define yourself as you co mingle eternal paradigms of
happiness, new joy and the flavor of love.
One day you will see in a mirror dimly and then you will see face to
face. I will know in part, I am understood
even as I understand fully
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Addendum: True friendships are not built on hostility and finger pointing. Friendships are built on acceptance of the person and the convergence of understanding and recognition of weaknesses.
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Addendum: True friendships are not built on hostility and finger pointing. Friendships are built on acceptance of the person and the convergence of understanding and recognition of weaknesses.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Radio show Link to BTR: When Banks incorrectly debit your account with ACH payments, personal responsibility, minimum wage, gambling adddiction
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/ernestradionetwork/2014/03/17/political-gravity-financial-scams-personal-responsibility-a-la-obama
Jane and Jon will discuss a number of topics on BlogTalk Radio. The bank misapplied two debits to Jane's bank account. Jon hosted Aretha Franklin's piano player for a year in his St. Monica condo only to get ripped off. Jon discusses his ideology of the minimum wage. Jane talks about financial woes partly caused by gambling, partly caused by bank errors. Tune in to the wisdom and drama of the two best co hosts in the business.
Jane and Jon will discuss a number of topics on BlogTalk Radio. The bank misapplied two debits to Jane's bank account. Jon hosted Aretha Franklin's piano player for a year in his St. Monica condo only to get ripped off. Jon discusses his ideology of the minimum wage. Jane talks about financial woes partly caused by gambling, partly caused by bank errors. Tune in to the wisdom and drama of the two best co hosts in the business.
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