Positive Thinking and Other Lies

We have been inundated with the pop psychology notions that we manifest consequence by the mere act of thinking. Before you roll your eyes and close the tab, this isn’t headed in the cynical ‘let’s shit on everything positive’ direction you may think.

Using celebrity names in articles like this is generally considered a bit tasteless, but let’s just say it as it is: Oprah and Deepak Chopra. These are two of the leading proponents of the modern idea that the individual mind has disproportionate control over its surroundings. The premise has become so convoluted and ubiquitous that one must carefully untwine the web of false proofs and misrepresented science.

It is true that the works of Dr. Roger Penrose and the like have come a long way to prove the dependence of reality itself on the act of observation by a conscious observer. In no way however does any of this legitimate science imply the near magical notions of ‘mindfulness’ and result by positive thinking.

We won’t go into too much detail about it here, but the stark reality is that the universe doesn’t exist in the condition of individualistic human narrative. What part of the mind boggling complexity of the universe do you really think cares about you driving your dream car? When we look at it this way the bizarre nature of this sort of thinking becomes apparent.

Whilst the act of observation does in an unfathomably fantastic way manifest wave forms to physical matter, this process doesn’t incorporate narrative, certainly not the individualistic western narrative of self-satisfaction. Let’s assume that this notion of positive thinking sinks in with everyone on earth right now, and with the conviction we are promised we will receive from the universe our greatest desires… How does that work out? We all get the perfect jobs, mansions, and happiness in abundance, and all the cake we can eat? I do understand that some may argue my reductionist assertion but you do catch my point?

Life is not a buffet that we can conjure with pseudo-scientific new age mental dogmas. It’s the question I leave you with, perhaps is not only our approach ludicrous with these self-centric philosophies, but may it be that we are missing the point entirely? Why do we exist, it’s a question we all seek the answer for in some form, but I wager it’s not to try and mentally trick the universe into satisfying our baser urges even if such drivel were possible. Feel free to use your copy of ‘The Secret’ as fire kindling, it’s a cold winter down south.

Please leave your thoughts in the comments section, and thanks for reading   

The Postponement of the Intermission (Or Alternatively, I have been to absorbed in life and shit to actually write any thing down)

Being here...

If you are a frequent reader and you are looking to read something properly constructed and thoughtful this one probably isn't for you. My goal with writing here is never to make it a vanity piece, I don't feel like there is much point, so instead I aim to connect with you by using my experiences to frame the similarity you and I face in this human condition, in the hopes that it serves in what ever minor capacity to highlight and develop our journey towards becoming creative entities   of true purpose. I am too tired tonight, so here is this instead...

I knew when I decided to commit to this path, that of being a realized, and if nothing else, sincere creative, that it would be an extreme and tumultuous journey. What has followed this far has been a complete shattering of my reality. Since my journey started I have given up an immense amount in material terms. I no longer need my antidepressants though. I don't feel any sense of loss, but rather freedom.

Since last I wrote here I gave up my home. This is what I knew the path would require, in my case at least. I gave up my comforts. I watched as the world I knew faded away. It wasn't traumatic. It wasn't dramatic. It was fluid. I learned the meaning of letting go. I moved to an unfamiliar town.

Not because a new environment holds any magical new narrative, only because it helps one let go of the old. Then after a couple of months I made another leap in the dark and live in Cape Town.

This intermission in posting is probably because I was living in that white hot of life we all tend to. I highly recommend having yourself a full blown life overhaul wrapped in chaos, uncertainty, fear, triumph, persistence and then ending up in a position where you still aren't sure what exactly it is you are doing, but fucking hell, you know that you are alive.

But here we are again, I look for to more thought exchange, maybe one of us figure this damn thing out.

Thanks for reading, glad to be back, and more to follow.

Sometimes 'ok' is actually ok

Sitting here, knowing I should be working on at least one of the things I think of as things I enjoy and want to do, I am working on an art piece for the living room of a really nice woman I met when I went for blood tests the other day with some stabbing pains in my belly. The results of the blood test show I don't have appendicitis, and given I am eating  as much as ever, I reckon the conclusion must be that I am pregnant.

I should probably point out that I am a man-human at this point if you were not aware, for all the reference to birthing I make. It may be worth mentioning as well that I am a dad, one who very literally watched his son come into this world. It's why I connect creativity with birth.

As an analogue for the creative process, it works well enough. See, I don't want another kid. Not because I don't like the one I have, no, in that respect I am a pretty standard parent in that I think he is the most amazing thing to happen to the world, and you can stop thanking me now world, it is my pleasure for having been instrumental in his existing.

The reason I don't want another one is because I don't want to go through the process and risk the new one being a bit rubbish by comparison, and it is hard for me to picture that not being the case, because again, I really do think the one we already did is pretty much the cat's, as it were, whiskers.

This is something I am sure happens to all of us with our creative projects, or at least I really hope it does. You work on something, perhaps you are writing, and maybe you write a really good couple of pages, you are very chuffed with it, but you have to go do something else now and can't wait to get back to this because you have really found the tone and style for this book, and your jokes were only outmatched by your fiendishly clever use of the word 'congealed' and finally all is right with the world!

When you come back to the book, you read all this wander and so forth, and yes, it's still really good. You really like it. You scroll to the bottom to continue, and you suddenly realize that in fact every single other thing in the universe requires your immediate attention, so you will just have to sacrifice finishing this book until you have solved the immediate problems of world hunger and overstocked bars.

You will never touch that book again.

This same phenomena applies to any creative endeavor. I would say it is not my intention to offer solutions to this problem, but honestly, I am just not in the mood, so if you are struggling with this sort of thing, specifically with writing, click the link at the bottom for a brilliant resource on these sort of writing challenges.

The point I do want to address is that when this is what you do, what you want to make your life's work, rather than being a creative in more of the hobbyist capacity, this creative block, or rather subset of many little creative blocks, becomes magnified to the point where it could easily sink you. For that I do have a bit of advice.


1 - Learn to be ok with your work being 'ok' sometimes, rather than drown in failed attempts of self regulated notions of perfection. Consider television, more or less everything on it is shit and it has survived being shit, if not in fact prospered for it.

2 - Be really, really careful about getting involved in other projects that are not really related to
what you are doing or the direct success of what you are doing. It's fine to do other stuff, but if
something is giving you a sense of accomplishment, that is pure gold for paying off your conciounce for not doing what you know you should be, ie, your own work. Even when your boss is you, you will still try to trick him/her into letting you off the hook.

3 - Keep doing it. And when you fail to do so, keep working on things that bring you back to it,
smaller projects, writing in comment sections, just still writing or creating in your medium in
some way.

'Ah!' says you, 'but did you not say something once about professional standards etc?'. Well, I probably did, I don't know, I don't possess the sort of memory that actually works. I am not saying throw out rough drafts as finished works or anything that fun either. Just let it be, when you are in a rough spot, rather produce below your standards than not at all

Above all, remember to check whether or not you are happy, because if you are building a life on your own terms, building a career of your own creative passions, and you are unhappy, something has gone horribly wrong somewhere and you need to figure it out.

As always, thanks for reading.


Check out Writocracy for reviews, writing tips and other awesome writing related info.

10 things I learned through a badly timed mental collapse

1. Never try to prove to anybody that you are not an idiot, that you are good at anything, and whatever you love doing is really worth doing. It just does not work. Instead carry on quietly like nobodies watching (they aren't), assume you are an idiot so you have everything to learn, work hard to get good at what you do, and know that it’s worth doing because you love it. If you get really good people may notice and give you money, but don’t hold your breath.

2.When you’re depressed or just not towing the line the people closest to you will all go through the following cycle; The nurturing phase where they want to listen to your problems, lend you money, and help you get back on your feet. This is followed closely by the angry phase where they are furious at you for not telling them your problems, giving back their money or having the decency to get back on your feet. This is followed by the freeze: A period of not talking, not calling, not texting not emailing, because, well what the fuck is wrong with you? The first two phases have a relatively short lifespan, the last one can go on indefinitely

3.The pills may be bullshit. Hey, we’re all thinking it, I just said it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m on pills. I have a small pharmacy in my handbag supposed to keep me from going off the rails. But new research shows that anti-depressants have psychological side effects that include emotional numbing, less ability to care for other people and…..wait for it…suicidal tendencies. Yes folks, the very thing you’re taking to avoid offing yourself may be causing you to want to. As a side note I tried to commit suicide about five months after I started a course of anti-depressants. Eh, probably coincidence.

4.Get a dog. And if a dog’s too much effort get a rat. My friend knows he will never walk a dog, so he has rats. He says it helps. Dogs do.

5.If you’re really in the worst of it. You need to shower. Yes your hair really is that dirty. No you did not shower yesterday. Yes I know you’d chew off your own feet if it meant avoiding standing up right now. But you need a shower.

6.Shame and guilt are a form of laziness.Anything that blocks you from acting, anything that takes over your mind like shame and guilt do, replaying scenes from your life where you fucked up, is energy wasted where you could have used it to do something you can be proud of instead.

7.You have to work hard. Everyday. There’s no way out of this, so don’t even start with the excuses, you’re just prolonging the agony.

8.There are people out there who can make you feel better, but you will probably never meet them personally. I can’t tell you how many times I was near hysterical with tears at 4 am , alone and unable to sleep.You know what helped? James Altucher. I would finally go onto his blog and read one of his posts where he says it’s ok to fuck up, that he’s fucked up plenty and this is what you do about it. A New York Hedge fund manager and founder of like a bazillion companies has never failed to sooth me to sleep. There’s others too, Marcus Aurelius, Osho, Mary Oliver, all of them came to me and gave me a little peace when I needed it most. Look for these travelers of time and space who can reach you wherever you are.

9.Things always change.

10.Some people are going to hate you. This isn't a good reason to hate yourself.

The Boundaries

A return from a bit of laying my world to waste

Alright, so, after being offline because I didn't pay a fine which my ISP delightfully granted me, having a lot of extra work I really didn't feel like getting around to, then having an episode of what is clinically known as 'batshit-crazy' and ending up in a 'place' for a week or two, here I finally am, back doing what I love. 

Indecently, doing the thing I love was not actually made impossible by any of my aforementioned excuses, that's all they are, excuses. I could have found ways around them, but I didn't, I allowed myself to think they were boundaries, insurmountable, but again, in retrospect, they were not.

Before I talk more about these 'boundaries', I want to refer back to what is perhaps the best, if most extreme, destroyer of these imaginary brick walls.

Self Destruction    

I wrote in a previous post about self destruction, so I am not going to go into it to much here again, but I want to mention again the fact that its probably not a bad thing at all, it is just you entirely misunderstanding your subconscious self, and then it more or less goes to war with you, it the subconscious always wins.

The reason self destruction is actually vital is tied into some pretty simple questions, and, here they are:

1. Would a perfectly happy and content person destroy their current circumstances (or 'life') in such a reckless and indirectly aggressive way? The process of self destruction an out of control recklessness, and desire to lay the world to waste, or at least that's how mine goes, yours may have other characteristics, but I can't picture being really happy and this happening.

2. Would a person whose mental, physical and spiritual requirements are met be in a position of being capable to undergo such a thing? Sort of a flimsy question in that it is highly debatable as to whether it is even possible for all these needs to be met on a consistent basis, but all the same, it requires great deficit in one or all of them to trigger a self destructive episode

3. Should any person live a life that is for all intents and purposes a sort of real manifestation of the notion of hell? Regardless of the massive and invasive conditioning we experience in our lives, YOU DO NOT OWE ANYONE YOUR LIFE, YOUR RIGHT TO A LIFE THAT MAKES YOU HAPPY, OR TO EXIST WITHIN A LIFE OF AUTHENTICITY.

So then self destruction is a subconscious tool that frees us when the conscious mind is blindly locked in the preconceptions and internal conflicts presented by the external world. Although it is unlikely to be clearly visible at the time, the outcome allows space for change and growth, and often the destruction itself triggers or accommodates positive change.

As an example, I was diagnosed with severe uni-polar depression a year ago. The path of destruction I underwent recently triggered a chain of events that led to a re-diagnosis, and it was found I am in fact bipolar. 

Now, this is nothing special in and of itself, everyone in today's 'Culture of the Self' has some shit going on, but getting the proper diagnosis means getting the right medication, which is another tool to combat the physical aspects of our lives that restrict our ability to actually do the bloody stuff we want to be doing. Bringing me neatly to the only actual boundary...

The Brain

No, I don't mean the mind alone, I mean the chemical interactions, the neural networks and various parts and the way they interact. I mean the totality of the physical grey mass in your skull and it's ability to process information about our external circumstance.

We see reality through these limited perceptions, they are all we know of what is true, and yet perceive so very little. That is in itself disconcerting, but when these limited senses rely entirely upon the extremely frangible brain chemistry we are stuck with, it becomes increasingly clear the importance of making sure the damn thing works at least half alright.

To illustrate the point, consider colour blindness. A person with a particular version of this condition cannot differentiate between certain hues, like darker purples and blues, so without external intervention, such as, you know, being told, this person would never experience these as different colours. This is a weak analogue, but does present my train of thought on the matter.

Taking the idea further, someone suffering from depression basically has the problem where too little serotonin is produced and/or is reabsorbed to fast. So this person may be rather close to having a life that would satisfy their actual wants, but would be incapable of experiencing it, or perhaps be rendered incapable of clearly pursuing the things that would lead to such a state of affairs, because of a chemical component in their physical brain.

This person could decide that this is just what is real to them, or could alternatively start taking SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Re-uptake Inhibitors) which will change the chemical condition, allowing them to get on with life in a somewhat more objective fashion, and this applies to all conditions subject to our brain chemistry.

I do not believe we should all jump on the bandwagon of medicating every little thing, and I get it when people say they are completely against medication of any sort, that is a vast area for discussion and is extremely multi-faceted. I am simply saying that ignoring these real scientifically provable conditions is not the answer. We must find a way of treating or altering these conditions so as to no longer be entirely subject to them.    

As I said, this may still be miles from any sort of unimaginable true objectivity, but at very least we can then know that the limited sensory input we are working with can be utilized as efficiently as possible.    

So when I say the brain is the only actual boundary it is because of that subjective nature of perception, and result being the inherently distorted framework from which we construct our internal beliefs about our external reality.  

I see it in others, and know it in myself, how easily we build false perceptions and false agonies, creating pain and strife for ourselves where there is none. This is an important factor to consider, regardless of your personal feelings on the matter, in the path to creating your own life, and the boundaries that keep you from doing so.

Remember that your brain is a chemical storm and perfectly capable of screwing you over at any time. I do not believe that we are only the sum of our brain personally, but if you do then all the more reason to consider maybe seeing someone if you feel like it may be necessary.

What I am certainly not saying is that 'it's all in your head'. I get that there is real shit that makes it hard to pursue something. What I am saying is that the difference between a difficult challenge which you know you can overcome, and impossible brick wall that makes you never want to get out of bed again, that is merely the result of the state of perception derived from your mental condition which is simply the cognitive manifestation of a very real and physical complex chemical structure that is your brain

I am not trying to make any sort of reductionist statement either, in which we are just our chemical make-up, as I say, I feel that the deepest self, or consciousness is something distinct, but the body is it's only looking glass, so it is therefor subject entirely in it's experience of reality to the instrument it must use.  

Remember, it's your life, yours alone, yours to create or destroy, but the boundaries are illusions created by our limited perceptions.


Thanks for reading    

Some insights from Jackie Blackford on doing it your way

lot of the subject matter we write about here is about chasing what you want. Figuring it out. As a nice change of pace, our good friend Jackie Blackford from Blackford Photography has been awesome enough to submit a post for us that I think reflects the fact that once you do start building a life on your own terms, its not just a walk in the old metaphorical park. Without further ado, here is an insightful view-point from Ms. Blackford

The all consuming selfish self against the rat race, the masses and a backdrop of predisposed, perfectly illustrated, perfect possible futures that it is now nestling in its mind By Jackie Blackford. 

It is very easy to rebel against the world. To seek a different life. To fight the stupid stream that forces you to get up and do stuff. You, who does not feel like doing anything everyone else is doing because you are more special than a mediocre life. In the moment your life becomes that, I urge you to drop everything and run away. 

Cradle yourself until you can only hear your own whispers in the dark, because no amount of motivation, inspiration or money can make you passionate enough about something, to drag your faint uninteresting heartbeat to the surface for a breath of reality. If in your mind, it is still only you against a backdrop of people, that holds no possibilities for you, who share no intelligence, alienating bad people that are all the same, then you suffer from a little self delusion. 

You see the merry thing about our simple minds are, that we actually enjoy doing stuff we have vision for. That we get rewarded for, but mostly that we are passionate about. When you are so excited for a personal achievement, that the work [journey] becomes as rewarding as the achievement, you sort of have this little life thing figured out. 

Being jaded and untouchable, being removed from the masses, in no way makes you better. Half a second spend getting to know people, is pretty much as easy as life can be, and loving silently and in peace (thank you OSHO) is the easiest way to take the blame off people for how terrible aspects of your existence can be, and place in neatly back in your lap. 

 You see people are only harmful if they effect you, if you are dependent on them, if you need approval, love, admiration, lodging, respect, income from them and they are too poor, selfish, douchy to give it to you all the time. If you are looking for these things, run to the hills… blah blah blah (now singing Run to the Hills from Iron Maiden in my head, thanks brain) 

 The thing is, RESPONSIBILITY. 

The moment that you take responsibility for your life, and stop being a victim, a whole lot of doors open for you. Once you realize that you are responsible for how you spend your days, what you do with your life and what you think of yourself, it’s a bloody party. Turn your tunnel vision of the here and now into a wide angle view of this split second you exist. 

In the end nothing you ever did matters. It doesn't even matter if you receive a Nobel prize for piece, or an Emmy for acting, or a handwritten birthday card from your toddler for being the best parent ever. But if you happened to achieve them whilst you were loving your life and doing what makes you cry with happiness, then buja!!! Geez right? 

Okay so how does one start this journey of drowning the un-pleasable, ungrateful self that will claim freedom at the back and loss of other justifying it with dismissal of the existence of others being as important the Self? 

1.There is no such thing as a perfect / great / happy world / life / journey. Suck it in, pucker up and stop being such a whiny ass. Of course you are going to have hard days / months / years. It is just life. You cannot control everything. Complain, drink a bottle of wine, move away, don’t move at all, whatever, just stop pretending that one can get it right. Everybody is as confused in their journey as you. 

 2.Be bloody thankful for good days / weeks / months / moments. Being thankful for what you have [life, thoughts, a will, beer, legs to run away] will change your perspective so much, that sooner than later you will find yourself happy and content even if you just accidentally killed snowball with the lawnmower, because at least you have a lawn, and snowball wasn't your cat. 

 3.Keeping moving forward. Keep doing what you love, even if only for a minute a day. Live, breath and inhale your passion!!! Things change as you do. Soon your life will be where you wanted it, just stop being a spoiled obsessed brat, and live slowly, breath deeply, take the disappointment with honor and keep trying. As you get stronger, it gets easier. 

 4. Rest more. Loaf more. Sleep more. And if you are… do it less. If you are not happy… THEN BLOODY WELL CHANGE THINGS 

 5.Just breath. Everything is going to be okay. You just missed another day being crazy. Love your life. You only have this one. Create stuff. Read stuff. Love stuff. 

Loads of love

Jax

Thank you Jackie for the insights. 

Be sure to check out her awesome work at:

http://jackieblackford.blogspot.com/

And follow her on twitter:

https://twitter.com/JackieBlackford

While you are at it, why not follow T&P?

https://twitter.com/GnimEvit


Thanks for reading

Finding Your Passion

How Can One Figure It Out?

I, like you, have spent a lot of time trying to figure out what it is I love doing. It sounds simple, but if you have ever been faced with wanting a change, you know how hard it can be.

We start when we are kids. We want to be doctors and lawyers because our parents tell us we want to be doctors and lawyers. Secretly we want to be superheroes, or wild animals or something. Then later in life we keep with the former bit of reasoning and lose the latter.

In our late teens we are all going to be millionaires by being so super awesome. I don't like writing about teenagers, they are belligerent and useless. So after that we reach our our early twenties. Here it really starts to happen. Most of us realize we don't want to be doctors or lawyers or insert here whatever your parents said you should be. Most of us don't have the grades or means either. What we don't realize then is that most of us are really lucky for it.

Logically this would then be the time we start searching, but we don't. We tend to sort of fall into something. As an example, I just sort of fell into advertising. I liked drawing, so hey, graphic designer right? Turns out no, not right. I studied that, did alright, but knew that I secretly hated it.

Next, perhaps as a method of avoiding actually working in the field, I got myself into lecturing. First as a guest lecturer, and then full time. Then the college closed. This is a good example because that's sort of life, that's what happens when you only half build a life, one that still relies on something external over which you have less than no control.

Anyway, so we all go through some version of this, next we try to fall into a similar industry, because, you know, now this is all we know, and we are used to getting paid, and we reckon this one thing is all we can do. Now you have a career. You didn't choose this career, it just sort of happened.

You spend the next five or so years blindly following this path. Well it could be a lot more or a lot less, but we just sort of go along with it. This is life now. And then the storms hit. You start to sabotage yourself. Subtly at first, like you'll go out and get wasted on a week night. You suddenly 'won't be able' to do certain tasks, particular those involving work. All you can do now is the very least, and progressively, even less than that. You will get mad at people's faces. You will start complaining about not being able to do junk you damn well know you wouldn't want to be doing anyway, like the old 'I want to jog but work has me too tired'.

In whatever way or form, this resentment will build. Some people do this their entire lives. Some of us lose it. This is where we self destruct. Big and loud. I have mentioned before that I think self destruction is a misunderstood creature. This is because we believe it's bad, and we do not connect the dots leading up to it. 

Think of it this way. If a person is actually happy and fulfilled, would they blow it all up? The answer is a flat no, if that one is tripping you up. We destroy ourselves because we need to, because we can't live the life we are living anymore.

So to get back on topic, everyone will go through a few of these blow ups, at least. When you do, understand what the actual you, the more intelligent internal self, is trying to tell you, the walking breathing idiot. Odds are that you won't, not the first couple of times at least.    

You will in all likelihood end up building something not to dissimilar to what you had before, or even worse, try to mend your previous situation. This is because of a misunderstanding caused by years of poor communication between you and yourself. 

You still at this point don't know what it is you actually want.

How do you figure this out? I am going to talk about this some more in my next post, but a lot of it involves separating 'you' from the narrative that is 'your role'. But rather than address the process here tonight, I am going to talk about what I love. I think that the general train of thought behind it better articulates the point in any case.

I love to write. I didn't always know this. I did always love to read, but since my early life I was enamored with the arts. Later in life, my ego hijacked this interest, and foolishly had me thinking I wanted to be in the music industry. I tried starting bands, I played guitar, I spoke about it the way any obnoxious self righteous idiot who wants to be appreciated for being an artist, rather than actually just being an artist, does (See: First year fine art or drama students). 

Where it all sort of fell apart for Mr. Ego was in the fact that I am terrified of crowds, groups, or sometimes even just a single person I feel is being to observant*  

*This wasn't the case while lecturing though, for some reason having control over a large group's grades somehow diminishes the intimidation one experiences. Funny how that works. 

So while working and sort of doing the whole 'Falling into it' career thing, I thought I had an interest in photography. Scratch that. I did, and still do. It took me a while however to figure out that what I had no interest in was being a photographer. Studying photography was a great help in realizing this. I wanted to be like Claire from Six Feet Under and take morose images juxtaposing the world with some deeper pseudo-intellectual existentialist melancholy. Whatever. 

What I didn't want to do was take photos of people getting married. That is the majority of the industry, and the few alternatives didn't appeal either. I rarely take photos of my kid, why the hell would you think I want to take any of yours? Oh, you will pay me? Soul sucking void of meaninglessness and death of purpose here I come again, baited by the prospect of being paid... You get me every time you sinister little pieces of paper.

Another passion I have always had is visual art, but to quote a younger and far more abrasive me, 'Visual art is dead'. It isn't literally dead, but success at it falls in line with any sort of 'fame' based work. Its a competition with millions of other really talented people, and at the end of the day you all lose because some fool's pet monkey pooped on a canvas and its won the new artist spot. That is only sort of a joke, the art world really is like that. Talent and skill mean little. Right place right time means everything.

Defecating monkeys aside, the other reason art wasn't for me is because I can't 'produce' it, so to speak, it's an emotional thing for me, and largely a darker side of myself, and I feel this may be the case for many of us who have thought along those lines. 

Through all these adventures, I had always been writing though. I started a lot of books. Not so much did I finished a lot of books. I have written tons of stuff, poetry, short stories, journals, song lyrics, i had boxes of just written junk. Never once did I seriously think 'hey, I want to be a writer'. I wrote because I loved it. And after many years, and a lot of failing at other junk, the light bulb did finally, and oh so cartoonishly, appear floating above mine head...

I still have to do other work to live at the moment, but it's nothing I hate, and the I have my target...

Thanks for reading.