Dear Toronto,

Stop growing on me.

I already have one of those memories where you giggle to yourself uncontrollably for ten minutes everytime it pops into your head.

Stop growing on me. Please.

Toronto

Toronto, I gave you a chance. Even though in my mind I was dead set on leaving after a few years. I wanted to be open to anything you could have offered me.

But little by little, events through the interactions of some of your residents, til I couldn't deny it any longer, til I stopped making up excuses for you, convinced me that you will never have a place in my heart.

I left Montréal because I felt like my brain was going to die before my body. It probably would have; everything felt like a dead-end: my relationship, my work. I wanted to learn from lots of talented people, and I didn't want to depend on someone else to be happy. I wanted to be happy before we could be happy.

Now I have it all, but why am I not happy still? Beause Toronto, you're beautiful, but you're also filled with a lot of ugly people. A lot of unhappy people. A lot of tired and stressed people. And people whose eyes have had their luster taken from people whose eyes have had their luster taken from people whose eyes have had their luster taken. I don't blame them; it's marginally harder to stay happy in this city without buying stupid expensive things. Maybe it's harder to stay happy without lashing out at someone once in a while, who knows. But now I realize I only the time and heart for people who have the time and heart for kindness, smiles, positivity, coffee with 10% cream, honesty.

I don't regret coming here; I needed this. But maybe third time's the charm? It worked for Goldilocks.

Toronto harbourfront

Untitled.

Do you think the secret to success is failure?

Do you think the secret to success is failure?

Sometimes when we used to talk about our university, we'd begin with incredibly funny moments we all were a part of at some point or another. But then we'd ultimately start trading or retelling horror stories. Stories about peers who retook courses so many times no one else had an accurate count anymore, stories about our own failures, stories at great length about how evil and unreasonable faculty professors could be. Stories about this one teacher who would command his silence by saying "Shut the fuck up or I will fail you all.".

Then some of us would say (because it was true): oh, how I hated university because I studied so much and never had a life, or how the education system sucks! How are these profs employed?? What the hell am I paying for?

I remember coming home, knowing full well that I had failed an exam, sitting on my bed and just bursting into tears. I tried so hard, but why couldn't I pass? Is that what I'm being taught? To fail?

Today (so it took me a while) I learned that that was exactly what I needed to learn. University taught me something money can't easily buy: grit. School built my character whether I liked it or not; it taught me to, when down in the dark pit of failure, to pick myself up and crawl out. It shoved me in that hole time and time again to the point I became not only a hardier but smarter individual, and learned to walk around that pit instead of falling in.

And once I wasn't a stranger to failure, I wasn't a stranger to rebounding with a greater tenacity, and then I was introduced to better expectations for myself, and from there, an idea of what success can be like for me.

I feel like the sky is limitless today.

737 Montreal.

Summer Love Overheated : Junot Diaz

Anyway, something about where we each were in our lives, something about the wildness of our relationship, something about our weakness—-we were kind of trapped in each other. God knows for how long we lingered in our half-lives if not for the shit I’m about to tell you about. I have friends who were in miserable relationships for eight, nine years. I honestly believe we could have been one of them, trapped in “love” like bugs in amber.

One is not like the others.

Everyday, we choose.

To suffer the pain of discipline or the pain of regret.

It's official.

I'm moving to Toronto.

Back in July, they flew me to Toronto for the day. Had to allocate some time for studying for the interview and the day itself under guise of "taking a much-needed vacation".

My interview lasted 5 hours. After 4 hours they started asking me if I needed a break, because I had been going at it non-stop for so long. At that point, I asked them to continue, as in, I'm fine, just ask the questions and I'll reply what I can reply. I was tired, and I really wanted to go back on the plane home (which got delayed by the way, sigh).

So in the end, I will maintain two apartments, one in Montreal and one in Toronto. One for my brother in Montreal, one for me in Toronto, which will be sweet, because I'll always have a place to stay whenever I am back in town (which will probably be often). I'm glad my new job allows me to have this arrangement and I hope to god my brother's school fees will not be the death of me (since I am ALSO paying for that).

In other news, spent the entire weekend plus the thursday prior in a sleep-addled state (Saturday I missed my metro stop because I zoned out on the metro), preparing for Matsuri Japon 2011. It was a big success (6000 people attended!), and all that running around was well worth it because I met some really awesome people and got to pig out on okonomiyaki, curry rice, and sapporo beer :) Now full attention towards my mural project and hopefully it turns out just as well.

Have 7 appointments lined up this weekend to choose the right place for me to live in Toronto. Hopefully I can make a decision this weekend so my mind can finally kick back in its chair and relax.

More Russell Brand (on the London riots)

This week's riots are sad and frightening and, if I have by virtue of my temporary displacement forgone the right to speak about the behaviour of my countrymen, then this is gonna be irksome. I mean even David Cameron came back from his holiday. Eventually. The Tuscan truffles lost their succulence when the breaking glass became too loud to ignore. Then dopey ol' Boris came cycling back into the London clutter with his spun gold hair and his spun shit logic as it became apparent that the holiday was over.

In fact, it isn't my absence from the territory of London that bothers me; it's my absence from the economic class that is being affected that itches in my gut because, as I looked at the online incident maps, the boroughs that were suffering all, for me, had some resonance. I've lived in Dalston, Hackney, Elephant, Camden and Bethnal Green. I grew up round Dagenham and Romford and, whilst I could never claim to be from the demographic most obviously affected, I feel guilty that I'm not there now.

I feel proud to be English, proud to be a Londoner (all right, an Essex boy), never more so than since being in exile, and I naturally began to wonder what would make young people destroy their communities.

I have spoken to mates in London and Manchester and they sound genuinely frightened and hopeless, and the details of their stories place this outbreak beyond the realms of any political idealism or rationalisation. But I can't, from my ivory tower in the Hollywood Hills, compete with the understandable yet futile rhetoric, describing the rioters as mindless. Nor do I want to dwell on the sadness of our beautiful cities being tarnished and people's shops and livelihoods, sometimes generations old, being immolated. The tragic and inevitable deaths ought to be left for eulogies and grieving. Tariq Jahan has spoken so eloquently from his position of painful proximity, with such compassion, that nearly all else is redundant.

The only question I can legitimately ask is: why is this happening? Mark Duggan's death has been badly handled but no one is contesting that is a reason for these conflagrations beyond the initial flash of activity in Tottenham. I've heard Theresa May and the Old Etonians whose hols have been curtailed (many would say they're the real victims) saying the behaviour is "unjustifiable" and "unacceptable". Wow! Thanks guys! What a wonderful use of the planet's fast-depleting oxygen resources. Now that's been dealt with can we move on to more taxing matters such as whether or not Jack The Ripper was a ladies' man. And what the hell do bears get up to in those woods?

However "unacceptable" and "unjustifiable" it might be, it has happened so we better accept it and, whilst we can't justify it, we should kick around a few neurons and work out why so many people feel utterly disconnected from the cities they live in.

Unless on the news tomorrow it's revealed that there's been a freaky "criminal creating" chemical leak in London and Manchester and Liverpool and Birmingham that's causing young people to spontaneously and simultaneously violate their environments – in which case we can park the ol' brainboxes, stop worrying and get on with the football season, but I suspect there hasn't – we have, as human beings, got a few things to consider together.

I should here admit that I have been arrested for criminal damage for my part in anti-capitalist protest earlier in this decade. I often attended protests and then, in my early 20s, and on drugs, I enjoyed it when the protests lost direction and became chaotic, hostile even. I was intrigued by the anarchist "Black bloc", hooded and masked, as, in retrospect, was their agenda, but was more viscerally affected by the football "casuals" who'd turn up because the veneer of the protest's idealistic objective gave them the perfect opportunity to wreck stuff and have a row with the Old Bill.

That was never my cup of tea though. For one thing, policemen are generally pretty good fighters and second, it registered that the accent they shouted at me with was closer to my own than that of some of those singing about the red flag making the wall of plastic shields between us seem thinner.

I found those protests exciting, yes, because I was young and a bit of a twerp but also, I suppose, because there was a void in me. A lack of direction, a sense that I was not invested in the dominant culture, that government existed not to look after the interests of the people it was elected to represent but the big businesses that they were in bed with.

I felt that, and I had a mum who loved me, a dad who told me that nothing was beyond my reach, an education, a grant from Essex council (to train as an actor of all things!!!) and several charities that gave me money for maintenance. I shudder to think how disenfranchised I would have felt if I had been deprived of that long list of privileges.

That state of deprivation though is, of course, the condition that many of those rioting endure as their unbending reality. No education, a weakened family unit, no money and no way of getting any. JD Sports is probably easier to desecrate if you can't afford what's in there and the few poorly paid jobs there are taken. Amidst the bleakness of this social landscape, squinting all the while in the glare of a culture that radiates ultraviolet consumerism and infrared celebrity. That daily, hourly, incessantly enforces the egregious, deceitful message that you are what you wear, what you drive, what you watch and what you watch it on, in livid, neon pixels. The only light in their lives comes from these luminous corporate messages. No wonder they have their fucking hoods up.

I remember Cameron saying "hug a hoodie" but I haven't seen him doing it. Why would he? Hoodies don't vote, they've realised it's pointless, that whoever gets elected will just be a different shade of the "we don't give a toss about you" party.

Politicians don't represent the interests of people who don't vote. They barely care about the people who do vote. They look after the corporations who get them elected. Cameron only spoke out against News International when it became evident to us, US, the people, not to him (like Rose West, "He must've known") that the newspapers Murdoch controlled were happy to desecrate the dead in the pursuit of another exploitative, distracting story.

Why am I surprised that these young people behave destructively, "mindlessly", motivated only by self-interest? How should we describe the actions of the city bankers who brought our economy to its knees in 2010? Altruistic? Mindful? Kind? But then again, they do wear suits, so they deserve to be bailed out, perhaps that's why not one of them has been imprisoned. And they got away with a lot more than a few fucking pairs of trainers.

These young people have no sense of community because they haven't been given one. They have no stake in society because Cameron's mentor Margaret Thatcher told us there's no such thing.

If we don't want our young people to tear apart our communities then don't let people in power tear apart the values that hold our communities together.

As you have by now surely noticed, I don't know enough about politics to ponder a solution and my hands are sticky with blood money from representing corporate interests through film, television and commercials, venerating, through my endorsements and celebrity, products and a lifestyle that contributes to the alienation of an increasingly dissatisfied underclass. But I know, as we all intuitively know, the solution is all around us and it isn't political, it is spiritual. Gandhi said: "Be the change you want to see in the world."

In this simple sentiment we can find hope, as we can in the efforts of those cleaning up the debris and ash in bonhomous, broom-wielding posses. If we want to live in a society where people feel included, we must include them, where they feel represented, we must represent them and where they feel love and compassion for their communities then we, the members of that community, must find love and compassion for them.

As we sweep away the mistakes made in the selfish, nocturnal darkness we must ensure that, amidst the broken glass and sadness, we don't sweep away the youth lost amongst the shards in the shadows cast by the new dawn.

Finished the wave, but felt a lil' green

La vivo como soy.

This summer, I learned that if you make an effort, what you desire can be yours.

If you try hard enough, what you desire will ultimately be yours.

But never, ever spend too long waiting for it.

Sunday's addition

Looks like someone's up to their old tricks again...

The Japanese wave part of the mural

Some of the materials used:

I just want today to be over...

...so the world can stop testing my patience.

I'm currently still winning though. But that can change in the six hours left.

Things are coming along!

Det Kongelige Teater - Oslo

Once upon a time, I had the comfiest pair of shoes in the world. Then they broke. Because I er, decided to put them in the washing machine.

What would you do if you found the same pair of shoes in another shop? Why, buy all the remaining pairs in your size, of course. Then make the shop clerk call all the other store locations to see if you can snap up any OTHER pairs.

Total damage : 3 pairs of the same. exact. shoes. Haha!

For Amy Winehouse, from Russell Brand.

When you love someone who suffers from the disease of addiction you await the phone call. There will be a phone call. The sincere hope is that the call will be from the addict themselves, telling you they’ve had enough, that they’re ready to stop, ready to try something new. Of course though, you fear the other call, the sad nocturnal chime from a friend or relative telling you it’s too late, she’s gone.

Frustratingly it’s not a call you can ever make it must be received. It is impossible to intervene.

I’ve known Amy Winehouse for years. When I first met her around Camden she was just some twit in a pink satin jacket shuffling round bars with mutual friends, most of whom were in cool Indie bands or peripheral Camden figures Withnail-ing their way through life on impotent charisma. Carl Barrat told me that “Winehouse” (which I usually called her and got a kick out of cos it’s kind of funny to call a girl by her surname) was a jazz singer, which struck me as a bizarrely anomalous in that crowd. To me with my limited musical knowledge this information placed Amy beyond an invisible boundary of relevance; “Jazz singer? She must be some kind of eccentric” I thought. I chatted to her anyway though, she was after all, a girl, and she was sweet and peculiar but most of all vulnerable.

I was myself at that time barely out of rehab and was thirstily seeking less complicated women so I barely reflected on the now glaringly obvious fact that Winehouse and I shared an affliction, the disease of addiction. All addicts, regardless of the substance or their social status share a consistent and obvious symptom; they’re not quite present when you talk to them. They communicate to you through a barely discernible but un-ignorable veil. Whether a homeless smack head troubling you for 50p for a cup of tea or a coked-up, pinstriped exec foaming off about his “speedboat” there is a toxic aura that prevents connection. They have about them the air of elsewhere, that they’re looking through you to somewhere else they’d rather be. And of course they are. The priority of any addict is to anaesthetise the pain of living to ease the passage of the day with some purchased relief.

From time to time I’d bump into Amy she had good banter so we could chat a bit and have a laugh, she was “a character” but that world was riddled with half cut, doped up chancers, I was one of them, even in early recovery I was kept afloat only by clinging to the bodies of strangers so Winehouse, but for her gentle quirks didn’t especially register.

Then she became massively famous and I was pleased to see her acknowledged but mostly baffled because I’d not experienced her work and this not being the 1950’s I wondered how a “jazz singer” had achieved such cultural prominence. I wasn’t curious enough to do anything so extreme as listen to her music or go to one of her gigs, I was becoming famous myself at the time and that was an all consuming experience. It was only by chance that I attended a Paul Weller gig at the Roundhouse that I ever saw her live.

I arrived late and as I made my way to the audience through the plastic smiles and plastic cups I heard the rolling, wondrous resonance of a female vocal. Entering the space I saw Amy on stage with Weller and his band; and then the awe. The awe that envelops when witnessing a genius. From her oddly dainty presence that voice, a voice that seemed not to come from her but from somewhere beyond even Billie and Ella, from the font of all greatness. A voice that was filled with such power and pain that it was at once entirely human yet laced with the divine. My ears, my mouth, my heart and mind all instantly opened. Winehouse. Winehouse? Winehouse! That twerp, all eyeliner and lager dithering up Chalk Farm Road under a back-combed barnet, the lips that I’d only seen clenching a fishwife fag and dribbling curses now a portal for this holy sound. So now I knew. She wasn’t just some hapless wannabe, yet another pissed up nit who was never gonna make it, nor was she even a ten-a-penny-chanteuse enjoying her fifteen minutes. She was a fucking genius.

Shallow fool that I am I now regarded her in a different light, the light that blazed down from heaven when she sang. That lit her up now and a new phase in our friendship began. She came on a few of my TV and radio shows, I still saw her about but now attended to her with a little more interest. Publicly though, Amy increasingly became defined by her addiction. Our media though is more interested in tragedy than talent, so the ink began to defect from praising her gift to chronicling her downfall. The destructive personal relationships, the blood soaked ballet slippers, the aborted shows, that youtube madness with the baby mice. In the public perception this ephemeral tittle-tattle replaced her timeless talent. This and her manner in our occasional meetings brought home to me the severity of her condition. Addiction is a serious disease; it will end with jail, mental institutions or death. I was 27 years old when through the friendship and help of Chip Somers of the treatment centre, Focus12 I found recovery, through Focus I was introduced to support fellowships for alcoholics and drug addicts which are very easy to find and open to anybody with a desire to stop drinking and without which I would not be alive.

Now Amy Winehouse is dead, like many others whose unnecessary deaths have been retrospectively romanticised, at 27 years old. Whether this tragedy was preventable or not is now irrelevant. It is not preventable today. We have lost a beautiful and talented woman to this disease. Not all addicts have Amy’s incredible talent. Or Kurt’s or Jimi’s or Janis’s, some people just get the affliction. All we can do is adapt the way we view this condition, not as a crime or a romantic affectation but as a disease that will kill. We need to review the way society treats addicts, not as criminals but as sick people in need of care. We need to look at the way our government funds rehabilitation. It is cheaper to rehabilitate an addict than to send them to prison, so criminalisation doesn’t even make economic sense. Not all of us know someone with the incredible talent that Amy had but we all know drunks and junkies and they all need help and the help is out there. All they have to do is pick up the phone and make the call. Or not. Either way, there will be a phone call.

This weekend in my mind.

Have you ever wanted something to the point you couldn't even think of the devastation you'd feel if you didn't get it?

That feeling pretty much summed up my week, chasing something I wanted so badly that I cut myself off from all contact with the outside world so I could focus. Because even if I didn't get it, I wanted to be able to say that I tried my absolute best, and that there wasn't any more that I could have done to better my chances.

Friday was both the culmination and test of my efforts, and I can only hope I passed. More details to come!

To sum up my weekend on the other hand, I post this picture. I spent the last two days with my mind on vacation, in a very sunny place. It felt good! :)

Shangri-La hotel suite 701 in Paris.

everything to gain.

Too often we are scared.

Scared of what we might not be able to do.

Scared of what people might think if we tried.

We let our fears stand in the way of our hopes.

We say no when we want to say yes.

We sit quietly when we want to scream.

And we shout at others, when we should keep our mouths shut.

Why?

After all,

we do only go around once.

There’s really no time to be afraid.

So stop.

Try something you’ve never tried.

Risk it.

Enter a triathlon.

Write a letter to the editor.

Demand a raise.

Call winners at the toughest court.

Throw away your television.

Bicycle across the United States.

Try bobsledding.

Try anything.

Speak out against the designated hitter.

Travel to a country where you don’t speak the language.

Patent something.

Call her.

You have nothing to lose

and everything

everything

everything to gain.

Just do it.


-Barry Sanders

Running.

Sometimes, when I feel like the threads that bind my world together are about to come loose, when I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, when I'm afraid that my dreams and goals might be inaccesible in this lifetime, when everything generally seems to be in pieces, I go for a run.

When I run, I think about the people who live with a smaller slice of hope than I've been cut.

When I run, I think about the people who have lost more than I can ever imagine losing but still manage to achieve more than I can ever imagine achieving in this lifetime.

When I run, I think about the people who have given themselves up for others, for a cause that is bigger than me, bigger than you, bigger than us.

When I'm done, I come home. And then I soldier on. 'Cos somehow, things don't seem so hard anymore.

How 2011-07-04 is done in Montreal

"If you dug my music send me a text and I'll just give it to you in a .zip file"

Listened to some bangin' music tonight! Check out Rich Aucoin.

Alternate futures.

This week was spent wrestling with some big decisions. Due to the sensitive nature of the subject itself, I've been subtly slipping some of my questions and thoughts to friends and colleagues like a number scrawled on a napkin under a drink from an anonymous gentleman. No goals, I just want the reaction. I'm hoping it was subtle enough, because as one continues to talk about such things, the impression one gives might not be what one intended to give in the beginning.

Thus, mental exhaustion has all but consumed me, and i'm feeling rather introverted these days. And inadequately prepared for life. And mildly depressed and generally unsatisfied. Jogging has been the one saving grace from complete mental annihilation. It's a temporary disconnect from the rest of the world, and allows me to engage in a one-on-one discussion with myself by sifting through the day's thoughts and to see fuzzy uncertainties under a clearer and unobstructed light.

I admit that a big part of the inadequacy I've been feeling has stemmed from one discussion from one recent new connection in my social network. I say connection because that was all it was, and I don't wish to see him again, but strangely enough, the ideas brought forth from this single exchange have sounded so reverbrantly in my head they have changed me permanently.

I admired his ambition, but was a bit taken aback by his greed. And even though he had near-perfect table manners and good values (he brought an umbrella for the both of us, offered to pick me up, as examples of this), I didn't trust him, not completely anyways. He was a young boy blinded by the bright lights of the city, the fast cars and the fine dining and the one-night women; he spoke highly of his corporate credit card, and his company-paid blackberry, his value within the company, his startup side-project, and the 50 dollar meals on his frequent business trips. When I pulled out my own platinum credit card (my sole credit card, because I hate them on principle) to pay for my meal (which I insisted on paying for), his eyes gleamed at glittery silver poking out of my bill booklet. Even though talking to him revealed his good upbringing, he had forgotten when we were supposed to meet and tried to fish it out of me. Bad move, kid. I didn't bite and after a while he was forced to admit his lapse in memory. And when he fibs, he averts his gaze. Maybe I'm judging him a little too harshly? But even as a potential business contact, I didn't have a good first impression overall.

But I digress. The above was just to provide you some context. What I did find refreshing was his ambition, his drive for bettering himself, in terms of his career. He spoke of how there was so much out there, and that most people he knew would never venture further than 100 miles from they were born. There was so much we could achieve, so much we could do. The world is out there, we just have to stand up and reach out and catch our opportunities with both hands. What he said (perhaps fueled by my enthusiastic agreement) was so inspiring it felt like a face-full of cold water on my 40th marathon-mile. It really was.

But what I really want to highlight were the consequences that emerged from this night, that fact that our conversation served as my gateway drug; one that woke the dormant dissatisfaction and discontent in my life and sent them bobbing to the surface of my consiousness. He made me envision an alternate future for myself, something that was better than what I had now, and I really, really wanted it. And as is the purpose that every gateway drug serves, once you've been introduced to something better, it's very hard to go back, isn't it?

So it depressed me, the fact that I wasn't where I wanted to be, I wasn't where I should be, where I deserved to be. Maybe I didn't work hard enough, wasn't smart enough, wasn't given the right opportunities or something. Maybe I didn't make the right choices in life. Or not enough of them. So this was the brutal self-examination that harassed my mind like an invisible thorn in my foot.

* * * * * *

Yesterday, a gentle rain fell over Montréal, and as I made my evening round, I wrote a short and succint mental letter adressed to myself, and felt significantly happier after. Maybe it was just exercise endorphins, who knows. I'd like to share it here anyways, and maybe someone other than me can relate to this or get inspired to change their thoughts and therefore their lives, in the irreversible way that mine have changed. So this is what I told myself:

Sit down.
Look at me.

And listen.

The last time you felt this down about yourself you were wading in the waters of post-graduation unemployment. You just wanted a job, any job. Do you remember that feeling of inadequacy? Looking at job requirements and seeing that you never ever fit what they wanted? Crappy interviews and email rejections? Living temp-job paycheck to temp-job paycheck?

Well guess what. You have a job now. And it pays well, because it allows you to indulge in whatever the hell you want to indulge in. Like those 30 dollar foie gras burgers and tiny-ass 50 dollar bottles of ice wine.

Think you are going to die alone with no friends? If you have 2 friends, you have friends. If you have 2000 friends, you have friends. I believe I just repeated myself. If you can't find someone to go out with you, who the fuck cares? Being alone means enjoying the freedom to do absolutely anything you want to do at any moment in time. No commitments to act or behave the way you would want someone to see you! None whatsoever!

Don't want to go through life alone? At least you're single. You could be trapped in a marriage whose love was last around when leisure suits were in.

Career uncertainties? At least you have a choice. Stay, or leave. But never be unhappy where you are. At the end of the day, you don't want to be able to say you spent a quarter of your life doing something you didn't really want to do.

Think you have so many responsibilities, so many bills to pay? At least you can pay them. You could be six figures in the red right now with kids that are going to inherit your debt.

Think your love handles are the bane of your existence? Want to be model-thin? Someone just died of malnutrition today. And someone will die of malnutrition tomorrow. Be happy about your curves.

So stop wasting your time feeling unhappy about yourself. Know that there is always someone better than you, and someone worse than you, but you're not supposed to care. Because you are your only competition, and you are your most important coach.

So go out there, live your dream, and wear your passion.

Startup advice. or life advice?

I liked this article:

1/16 of the time people are happy. The rest of the time they are unhappy. So if you start to avoid all the things that cause unhappiness then maybe there’s a small chance you can improve the ratios in your favor.

Claudia says “why are you writing about failure? Think positive!” What? Avoiding every possible way to fail is the most positive thing you can do to be happy and successful.

Here’s the REAL reasons entrepreneurs fail. Its not because of a bad programmer. Fire him and get a new one. Its not because a client pulled out at the last minute. Get a new client, or anticipate. It not because your girlfriend cheated on you. Kick her to the curb. Its not because some guy sued you or your employees delivered an unfinished product. We already know its your fault. Every failure (EVERY) failure boils down to these core reasons that come from the INSIDE. Some might seem obvious but they really are the ONLY reasons for failure. They are the CORE FOUNDATIONS of every failure. Pay attention to them please:

A) Sickness. This is obvious. If you are sick all the time, you won’t be successful at a business. When I was a venture capitalist I would never invest money to a guy hooked up to a ventilator. Or even if I supect they are clinically deprssed. Many people avoid second dates if they find out on the first date the girl has late-stage terminal cancer. This is sad but reality.

What does it mean for an enterpreneur? Put good things in your body. Exercise. Don’t drink. Sleep 8 hours a day. That’s it. Then you probably won’t get sick as much and you’ll have a lot of energy to do your business. If you’re sick in bed all the time, your business will fail.

Sometimes Sickness might also be telling you something. When I worked for a private equity firm I fell once for no reason and could barely walk for a week or so afterwards. It wasn’t good for me to be there. I never went back. And later experiences proved me correct. Your body sometimes knows more than you do.

B) Inertia. I went out for dinner the other night with people who couldn’t stop talking, eating, and drinking. One person had business ideas. The other person wanted to write a novel. All night long drinking, eating, talking about business ideas, talking about writing novels. Talking, eating, drinking, talking, walking, drinking again, talking more. Then you sleep. Wake up at eight. Bloated, sick, heavy.

Wake up at eight — then you are too late. If you want to succeed you first have to get up and start. You can’t watch SharkTank, you have to be the shark. Don’t waste time. Start NOW. No more stuffing your face. No more parties at high-tech meetups with lots of social media experts. You know you only want to have sex with a social media expert. Stop lying about it. Start your business.

C) Doubts. You need to have a real passion behind the product you are creating. Would YOU use the product? If you wouldn’t, or if you are not sure, then you have doubts. Steve Jobs WANTED an ipad, an ipod, an i-everything. Doubts will make you fail because you won’t be able to make critical design decisions. Decisions are the top of a pyramid. Beneath the top is the base built by your solid foundation: “this is the product I would use. This is the product I want!” Then all decisions come from that.

With stockpickr.com I was obsessed about putting in new features. But every single new feature was something that had worked successfully to make me a better trader. I had no doubts. I had the spreadsheets showing me those strategies worked. With Reset.com I only built websites that I would want to use.

D) Laziness. Everyone is lazy some of the time. If I am bored with something I’m lazy. But with a startup, or if you are trying to move up in the corporate world, or if you are falling in love with a girl, you can’t be lazy. She wants to go dancing tango. You want to watch Jay Leno. You’re a lazy pig. She’ll find someone else to tango with. You have to be working at it all the time, except when you sleep and exercise and even then your subconscious is working at it. For jobs and startups, its a 10-12 hour day. There’s no avoiding it. Managing that time is a different story but that’s how you beat the 9 hour a day competitors.


E) Carelessness. If your programmers present you a final product, you still have to check every page, click on everything, click on everything fast and twice, don’t forget a birthday or an anniversary, don’t forget everything your boss told you or everything the client wanted. Be detail oriented. Persistent carelessness equals consistent failure.

F) Vacillating. Is this the right business? Or should I back up and start fresh with a new idea? Should I hire this girl? Or that guy? I’ll hire this guy but then I’ll have doubts and I wont follow up. I’ll go out with this girl who is rich but maybe I really like that sexy girl who I met in an elevator. If you’re stuck in too many middles, you get sliced up into bits of broken glass. Your businesses implodes, your relationships have to start back at zero. You vacillated and ended up with nothing. Congratulations. By the way, pick the sexy girl.

G) No progress. You start your business. You launch your dating site. A few people sign up. But there’s no excitement. People stop signing up. Traffic stays a few dozen people a day. Ok, no progress. You buy some google ads. They sort of work. No progress. By the way, failure is not a stigma. Its ok to fail. Its just that having “no progress” might be an indication you need to move to another idea or business. I have a post coming about this about another business I started where I was making no progress so I stopped the business and had to return money on the eve of raising it. I was shaking when I returned the money. I don’t like to give back $500,000 that had my name on it. I was a failure. But ultimately returning the money on the eve of failure created much goodwill and led to greater success later. This is not about the success of one business or failure. This is about the success of you.

Even profitable companies sometimes have no progress and have to be rethought. This happened to me with my fund of hedge funds. More on that in another story. Or maybe I told it already. I don’t know.

H) Delusions. People start a business, then they think its the best geo-locator mobile dating discount app on the universe: “its called ‘6th Circle’ because its a play on “foursquare” and the sixth circle of Dante’s Inferno. We’re going to do five deals with major sidewalk companies in China to get the word out. The market is $18 billion in profits because we get everyone in Shanghai to pay 10 cents a day.” Blah blah. Always look back. “Am I smoking crack?” “Am I smoking crack?” “Am I smoking crack?” Every day check the ashtray. Is there crack in there? Delusions will keep you from making progress. Then suddenly, no money, no friends, no more PR, and you’re on your bed smoking your last piece of crack hanging onto the lonely panties of the last hooker who left you by yourself, not even bothering to dress as she slammed the door on the way out. This is your mind on crack.



I) You Fall Backwards. You’re losing clients. Your best programmer quit. Your traffic is going down. Your girlfriend is not returning your calls. Your boss promoted someone over you. Time to get creative now. You need to think out of the box. Again, this is just an obstacle. Not a failure. Failures start off as obstacles. You want to overcome obstacles. You can’t make your girlfriend call you back. Maybe you get a new girlfriend who calls you back. Maybe you take a step back and build a new site. You start looking for a new job so you find people who value you. Falling backwards consistently will make you go to zero. So when you start to “fall backwards” you say, “ok, I have an obstacle. Now I need to think out of the box to get rid of this obstacle.” Its not bad to have obstacles. You just have to overcome them. If you fall back too far then you fell down.

Consistently having ANY of the nine items above will make your business fail. And will make them succeed if you avoid ALL of them. I say “consistently”. Be vigilant. Every morning review the potential obstacles. Every afternoon. Every night. Catch yourself when you first hit the obstacle. If you can clean the obstacles out, you’ll have success. Guaranteed.

Follow the Daily Practice I outline and obstacles will be easier to catch before you fail. Trust it. That Practice will WORK. It works for me. I see it work every day for others. Businesses might fail, relationships might not work out, your old boss will be stuck yelling at the dead pieces of meat that sit in his office sucking up to him. Everyone in the world is suing everyone else and blaming their old best friends. Your ex girlfrind is busying being unhappy in her next relationship. But no longer can anything stop you from succeeding.

Link here:
http://www.jamesaltucher.com/2011/05/the-nine-ways-to-guarantee-success/

Daily practice link here:
http://www.jamesaltucher.com/2011/02/how-to-be-the-luckiest-guy-on-the-planet-in-4-easy-steps/

Fitness tips for dummies.

Had to share this! This muthafucka's so damn entertainin'!

Afraid.

Sometimes I'm afraid. Of doing the wrong thing. Of doing the right thing. Afraid of the consequences of the big decisions I'm forced to make. Afraid of not having enough time to do things I've always wanted to accomplish. Afraid of letting today escape from under me so quickly, I don't even have time to blink. Every day that passes, is 1/365 of a year that I'm never going to have back. What did I do today? Did I make today worth living? Sometimes a spare evening falls onto my lap but I feel too tired to do anything productive. Is this how it's going to be like? Am I inevitably moving towards a vegetative end?

Sometimes I'm also afraid of being happy. It's like I had some sort of Catholic past life or something; guilt very often accompanies us as an unwanted third wheel. Maybe I'm just afraid of losing control completely, even just afraid of loosening my grip on the things I know to be certain and true. Afraid of experiencing something bigger than me, afraid of the trough that follows the peak, and afraid of cleaning up the mess that is myself afterwards.

There was a point in my life where I didn't know who I was anymore, I didn't know what I liked, and fumbled around, trying to find the buttons and the controls to make me happy again. It was like I had fallen so far down the rabbit hole that nothing seemed familiar anymore. Like I had buried her behind a dry wall. I could still feel her there somehow, waiting on the other side, alone in the darkness. This summer, I'm slowly peeling off pieces of that wall, and as a result, the good days are gradually outnumbering the bad days.

Before joining the corporate workforce, I used to see myself as different from the adults I worked with, or the adults I commuted with, or the adults that sat in tables next to me eating our packed lunches. But now, on the same side of the fence, I realize that they are human, like me, full of flaws and lovely little surprises at the same time. I've come to understand that we are all novices navigating through this world, and what nuggets of wisdom we find that happens to comfort us, we share it with each other, because we recognize the same fear in each other's eyes.

About me.

There aren't that many things in this world that I don't like, but what I love the most is coffee on a monday morning, when it's sunny, biking with no destination in mind, travelling without moving, travelling and hiking 20km a day, seeing the enthusiasm when someone talks about their goals and passions, strangers who help you expecting nothing in return, a damned good movie that screws with your mind, an awesome song you play over and over again until it becomes some sort of mantra, connections, open minds, art with a message, someone who can relate to my odd sense of humor. As they say, those who laugh together, stay together.

That being said, I rap in Spanish when I'm making dinner, I bike until my muscles ache, I paint with my fingers, my best travel stories involve countries off the beaten path, and I'm a dreamer. But maybe we all are?

Oh, and I like reading articles containing information so obscure it only serves to accumulate odd stares when I share what I've learned. Take today for example. My coworker remarked that he should commit sepukku (Japanese ritual suicide) to "restore his honor" because he messed up. I then proceeded to say that he should make sure to fall forward, because falling backwards would still mean dishonor. He stared. And I laughed. See how odd my sense of humor is?

(Photo by Guillermo Casas Baruque, cguille on flickr)

Metyrapone

I feel like this article is the precursor to the entire world plunging into a drug-induced fuzzy wonderland (article below).

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Drug selectively dampens bad memories
By Emily Chung, CBC News Posted: May 26, 2011 4:18 PM ET Last Updated: May 26, 2011

A drug that seems to dampen bad memories, while leaving other memories intact, may one day be used to treat post-traumatic stress disorder.

Previously, scientists knew that a stress hormone called cortisol affects people's ability to form new memories and decrease negative emotions that might have been associated with them. But they thought once memories had solidified, they could no longer be affected by cortisol.

A new study led by researchers at the Centre for Studies on Human Stress, affiliated with the University of Montreal, shows that in fact, metyrapone, a drug that temporarily alters cortisol levels can be used to dampen an old, negative memory for days and possibly the long term.

"It gives us a second chance, basically, to act on the memory," said Marie-France Marin, lead author of the study published in the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology and Metabolism.

What is PTSD?
Post-traumatic stress disorder is the constellation of symptoms such as depression, flashbacks and nightmares that can be brought on by any type of trauma.

It's most often associated with military service, among soldiers who return from battle only to suffer the after-effects of what was once called "shell shock."

Psychotherapy may be an effective treatment. Drugs such as antidepressants, antipsychotics, anticonvulsants and beta blockers may also help with some of the symptoms.
That makes it potentially very useful, because most memories that cause problems are older rather than newly formed.

"Soldiers, for example, or rape victims, are not going to go to the emergency room within an hour, obviously," Marin said Thursday.

She added that many people who experience traumatic events don't necessarily go on to develop post-traumatic stress disorder, and the fact that the drug works long after the memory was formed means it can be selectively given to people who have suffered long-term effects from a traumatic experience.

The study involved 33 men who were asked to watch a story in the form of slides with audio narration. The story starts off as an emotionally neutral tale of a little girl who visits her grandparents and builds a birdhouse. The middle three slides show an accident where the girl's hand gets mutilated and bloodied with a saw. The final four slides are also neutral, as the girl gets medical care and is expected to be fine.

The drug 'gives us a second chance, basically, to act on the memory,' said Marie-France Marin, the PhD student who led the study. University of MontrealThree days later, the volunteers were given a placebo or one or two doses of a drug called metyrapone, which dramatically decreases levels of cortisol, which is normally present at a certain level in the blood.

They were then asked to recall the story.

Those who received two doses of metyrapone had significantly more trouble remembering the negative parts of the story compared to the rest of the story. That effect was not seen among those who had taken the single dose or the placebo.

What is cortisol?
Cortisol is a hormone produced by the adrenal gland in the kidneys. It is always present at low levels in the body, but more is produced when the body is under stress. Cortisol affects many systems in the body, including metabolism and the immune system.

What is metyrapone?
Metyrapone is a drug that lowers levels of cortisol to far beneath normal levels — low levels that cannot be achieved without drugs, researcher Marie-France Marin says. It was originally used to treat an uncommon disorder called Cushing's disease, in which people secrete too much cortisol. However, other treatments for Cushing's have been developed, and metyrapone is no longer on the market. The drug does have some side-effects, such as dizziness. However, Marin believes that since it only needs to be taken once to affect memories, the side-effects are minimal compared to the potential benefit.
Four days later, when their cortisol levels were back to normal, the participants came back into the lab and were asked to recall the story again.

Those who had taken two doses of metyrapone still had trouble remembering the negative parts of the story.

That result surprised the researchers.

It seems to show that contrary to what scientists previously believed, "at the time of retrieving the memory, you open an opportunity for the memory to be changed," Marin said. "And by lowering the cortisol levels, you change it in a lasting manner."

Marin said the researchers believe the double dose had an effect where the single one didn't because the two doses were separated by three hours, lowering cortisol levels for a longer time.

Potential use during psychotherapy
She foresees that the drug may one day be given to people with serious cases of post-traumatic stress disorder during psychotherapy, when they are asked to describe their traumatic experiences.

However, before that happens, the researchers must do more work to figure out whether the technique will work on memories that are years old instead of days old, and just how long-lasting the effects are.

"A lot of studies are needed to get to the perfect treatment, obviously," she said.

She also emphasized that the drug should only be used in cases of people with very serious cases of PTSD.

"It's really, really to help people who could not recover, who could not live a normal life, basically," she said.

"You can't start giving this to everyone who has a bad day…. Memories are important. They define who you are."

Apartment Therapy

Look at this gorgeous kitchen! Love the contrast between the white countertop and dishes and the dark shelf and cabinet wood and the birch hardwood floor. It looks as though there is natural light coming from the top. Open ceiling, perhaps? Want! I love sunlight. I think I was a frangipani plant in a past life.

Untitled.

Like photographs, we like to immortalize all the milestones of happiness in our lives. Childhoods, graduations, holidays, kinships, friendships. Maybe it's a reminder of what we can be grateful for. The times we swam in the comfort of safe havens and loving arms. So why do it for the moments that cause us pain? If we can remember the lesson, maybe we don't need to also remember the grief that came from learning it.

Currently listening to: Home by Above & Beyond

Untitled.

Today, I realized that I haven't been this thin in 11 years.

Shit, I'm so happy.

LASIK

There is never an appropriate time for pettiness, so to balance out the negative energy in this space, I'm detailing my LASIK experience! Since one of you asked about it. So tomophobics beware, it's gonna get graphic!

The first time I discovered I was near-sighted was in fifth grade. The night was hot and humid in Malaysia, and we were having a family dinner outside. I remember an image of my mom pointing to a big white neon sign and saying, "What do you mean, you can't read those words?". It's funny how you don't realize these things yourself, I mean, you could theoretically go through life content in a blurry world, uncounsiously squinting and finding the need to sit closer to the board a completely normal desire. But obviously there is no comparison you can make without first suspecting that your eyesight may not be all that it seems. At that point in time, I think the degree of my myopia was about -1.75D and -2+D.

March of last year it was at -3.75D and -5.25D. My eyesight having been stable for the past two years, LASIK was an option for me. Apparently LASIK can correct:
- myopia: 0.75 to -12.00
- hyperopia: +0.75 to +4.50
- astigmatism: +/- 0.75 to +/- 6.00
The entire process, from decision to procedure, was resolved relatively quickly. I decided that I wanted to do it, we went to see a doctor, and the following Friday, it was completed.

The hardest part about it was probably the procedure itself. In the days preceding to my operation, I went about my life, and it was easy not to think about what was going to happen Friday. But half an hour before, dressed in a plain blue hospital gown, sitting in a room ten degrees too cold, a nurse putting anaesthetic drops into my eyes and checking up on me every five minutes, my biggest fear was, what if the anaesthesia doesn't work? What if i feel every sensation? Cutting into my cornea? The laser searing my retinas? Interestingly, the fear of going blind was second to anaesthesia complications. I'll deal with blindness later! Remove the pain NOW! Haha.

Finally it's my time to enter the operating room. The door opens and I enter a blindingly white room even colder and feels more sterile. I lay on a flat rectangular surface and stare at the ceiling. I am already nervous.

Google "Speculum". Do it now. That was the worst part of my operation. It was SO DAMN uncomfortable to have in on both of my eyes! Reminds me of the movie Cypher. Which is an awesome movie by the way. So they cut my eye. There is a laser, and all you see is a giant red perfect circle and when it's cutting, you smell something like....burnt hair? Eep! I know. Then the doctor peels back the cut portion of your cornea, it looks like you're underwater, staring up at a white sky.

More to follow!

I am an agnostic.

I believe that we'll never know that whether god (or gods) exists, but I believe that we all have our own personal friend (not god), someone to watch over us, someone to bring us misfortune so we can overcome it and emerge stronger. Someone to punish us when we lie, cheat, or when we go against our heart. Someone to tell us not to do it again, someone to enforce the right thing to do in this world. Someone to teach us that no pain, no gain. Someone to teach us to appreciate the little things in life by making us work hard for it.

I talk to this person in moments of private suffering, troubled thoughts, and uncertain times. It's really selfish, seeing as I should also maybe talk about all the things I'm grateful for. But we all sometimes take the good and fun times for granted and forget to be thankful.

It was evening and I was walking home alone. The sky was cloudy and the wind was cold and blowing in gusts. Underdressed, I was freezing and my teeth started chattering.

I usually ask for a sign, or make little ultimatums. Like if I see a red car in the next five seconds, I should go for art school, or if I give that old lady my seat, then it will make up for what I did yesterday, or if he breaks up with me, i want it be a sunny day. I guess the irrationality comes from desperation and the feeling of helplessness.

This time I asked for the wind to stop blowing until I got to the intersection, which was about a few minutes away. I asked, if I will find someone out there better than him, then make the wind stop blowing until then. Then I will try my very best to let him go, starting today, and to live my life like the beginning of a next chapter.

The wind stopped until I reached the intersection.

Maybe it was a lucky question, maybe the wind was blowing in a direction that the buildings were tall enough to block it, maybe, maybe, maybe. But to me, it was a sign.

The 16-step program to recovery

1. Think through everything thoroughly, but not obsessively
Go ahead and mull it over, as many times as necessary, within reason. Consider all the reasons you two broke up. Even if it sometimes seems as if there wasn't a good reason, there certainly was one - and probably more than one. Understand that you enjoyed being together for a while, but if the relationship was not what both you and your partner wanted for life, it would have ended eventually, no matter what. In this case, better sooner than later. Thinking about the reasons why it ended can make it much clearer to you that it takes two people to start a relationship, but just one discordant person is enough to end it. It may also help you avoid many missteps in the future if you can identify areas where you contributed to the demise of the relationship.

2. Don't rethink your decision
If the breakup was your decision, keep in mind that only thinking about all the good times you had with your partner may cause you to forget the reasons why you broke it off. By the same token, try not to second-guess the situation if the decision to end things was not yours. It's very common to romanticize the good parts of the relationship, convincing yourself that maybe the bad parts weren't so bad after all, that maybe you could just live with them. Or that maybe if your ex would know just how you feel, he/she wouldn't want to break up after all. Don't play this game with yourself. Accept the situation and work on moving forward.

3. Keep your space
Even if you and your ex have decided to stay friends, break away completely from each other right after the breakup. This means not seeing each other, not being around his/her family members, no phone calls, no e-mails, no text messages, no Facebook, and no IMs - not necessarily as a permanent measure, but until you feel that you can converse with him/her on a purely platonic level, without an ulterior motive (and yes, wanting to get back together counts as an ulterior motive). If he/she tries to convince you to see him/her, ask yourself honestly what the point would be. If you're reliving the past by seeing him/her, it's not hard to get caught up in the moment and it will be harder to let go again. You may have to have some contact in order to deal with the practical aspects of things like moving out, signing papers, etc., but try to limit this to what's absolutely necessary, and then keep such calls/meetings short and civil.

4. Don't think you're unlikeable!
There are plenty of fish in the sea If he/she wasn't the fish, your emotions are telling you. Find someone else. Remember there will always be someone out there for you!

5. Cope with the pain appropriately
It's okay to feel like you have messed up - accepting responsibility for your mistakes or shortcomings is healthy. On the other hand, you must also accept that you are a good person, and that you did your best and you're not the only one who made mistakes. Of course, a stage of denial is completely natural, but acceptance is the key to being able to start moving on.

6. Deal with the hate phase
This is when you want to just scream because your rage feels boundless. The amount of anger you feel depends on how antagonistic the split was, the circumstances, and how long it took to make the final break. You may resent your ex for wasting your time. You may realize that the breakup was inevitable (hindsight will reveal clues you failed to notice at the time). You may even feel a lot of anger towards yourself, but let go of that feeling fast! It's a waste of time and energy to rip yourself apart over something you no longer have the power to change. There are so many positive things you can do with your emotions and energy. Although it may feel good to replace your feelings of love towards your ex with hate, this can still lead to complications and mixed emotions of love and hate which are never a good thing.

7. Talk to your friends
You want people around you who love you and who will help you feel good about yourself. Surrounding yourself with compassionate, supportive friends and family will help you see yourself as a worthwhile person, and you'll find it easier to get steady on your feet again with your loved ones around you in a comforting net. But be wary of friends trying to connect you with another person right now, this is not what you need. If you feel you are burdening your friends, consider making an appointment with a counselor or psychologist. These thoughts are irrational and are generally an early indicator of depression.

8. Write all your feelings down
Write in a journal or try writing poems. The most important thing is to be absolutely honest and don't edit yourself as you go. One of the best results of writing it all down is that sometimes you will be amazed by a sudden insight that comes to you as you are pouring it all out onto paper. Patterns may become clearer, and as your grieving begins to lessen, you will find it so much easier to understand valuable life lessons from the whole experience if you've been writing your way through it. No relationship is ever a failure if you manage to learn something about yourself. Just because it didn't work out doesn't mean it wasn't a necessary part of your journey to becoming who you're meant to be.

9. Make a list of reminders
One of the best tricks to help you stick to your resolve is to make a list of all the reasons your ex was not the one for you. Be ruthless and clear -- this is not the time to be forgiving. What you're doing is creating a picture for yourself that will call up an emotional response when you feel tempted to think that "maybe if you just did this or that, it would work out..." Write down what happened and how it made you feel, being clear about the things you never want to feel again. When you find yourself missing your ex in a weak moment, and think you might actually be getting too close to the telephone, get out this list, read it over a couple times, and then talk to yourself, "This is the truth of what it was like. Why would I want to go back and torture myself again?" If you're caught in a low-self-esteem trap, thinking you don't deserve better, imagine this happening to a friend of yours, and think what you would say to your friend: "Get as far away as you can! That relationship was no good for you!"

10. Out with the old, in with the new
A breakup can signify a new beginning. Therefore, cleaning and organizing your personal space will leave you feeling refreshed and prepared for the new things to come. A mess can be overwhelming and depressing, and will just add to your stress level. The added bonus is that keeping busy with tidying your space doesn't require a lot of brain power, but does require just enough focus to keep you from recycling pain. Occupying yourself with such tasks designed to make your life better and easier will also occupy your mind enough to help you through the residual pain. Clean your room, get some new posters, clean up the icons on your PC desktop. As insignificant as cleaning up sounds, it'll make you feel better.

11. Remove memory triggers
There are all kinds of things that remind you of your ex - a song, a smell, a sound, a place. Once the grieving period has had some time to process, don't dwell on painful feelings or memories. There are probably things that are pushing your buttons without your conscious recognition. Try walking around each room in your house with a box and removing things that make your heart ache or your stomach turn. Really focus and look carefully. You may realize that the little blue bird-shaped box sitting on the mantel has become pretty invisible for the last couple years, but when you take a conscious look at it, you notice that every time you turn towards that corner of the room and it catches your eye, you feel a sharp little pain in your solar plexus. It can work wonders to clear your space of all these triggers. If you have a keepsake, such as a watch or piece of jewelry that was given to you by your ex, and it's a reminder of the good aspects of your relationship, there's nothing wrong with keeping such a thing, but for the time being, try putting it away for later, when you've given yourself some time and space. Put these reminders far away from you, such as in a box in a place you'll never go. Out of sight, out of mind.

12. Find happiness in other areas of your life
Whether that means spending time with your friends and family, signing up for that class you've always wanted to take, or reading every book on the New York Times bestseller list, remind yourself that a relationship is one part of life, but even when you are in one, there are personal pleasures that you can always enjoy on your own. Indulge in those things now. As they say, the best revenge is living well. Enjoy being single.

13. Stay active
Exercise improves your mood and alleviates depression, and the distraction will help keep your mind off your situation. Go running outside, visit (or join) the gym, or just go for a walk, maybe with a friend, and think of releasing the anger or sadness with every step. If you don't exercise regularly, here are some ways to motivate yourself to work out:
Do something small, right now. Going all the way to the gym, or getting decked out in your jogging gear, or doing whatever it is you feel you should be doing obviously seems like too much work. So just do ten push-ups or jumping jacks. Easy. And usually, it's just enough to get your heart rate going a little bit, and make you feel like a little more exercise wouldn't be so bad...Get halfway there. If you want to go to the gym, but just don't feel like it, at least just drive yourself to gym, and tell yourself that if you still don't feel like working out, you'll go home. Odds are, though, once you're there, you won't feel like driving home. (But if you do, that's OK too. But you probably won't.) Then tell yourself you'll just walk on the treadmill for 10 minutes, even if your exercise routine involves much more. Just telling yourself to do one more thing, without having to commit to anything else, will make things much easier. And before long, your endorphins will take over.

14. Let go
Understand that there is no benefit in holding on to heartache, regret, and hatred toward another person. Realize that although it is over, your relationship with that person was unique and special in a lot of ways. You can congratulate yourself for being brave enough to take a risk and fall in love, and encourage your heart that even though love didn't work out this time, there will be a next time. Try not to think about them, Don't let anger get the best of you.

15. Understand that no matter how bad things may seem you will get over it
It may not seem like it now but it could be the making of you to build a better relationship.

16. Stop thinking of him!
If he's not on your mind you'll get over him really fast! It might be hard to stop thinking about him but the only way to get over him is NOT to to start dating some one else.

Dreams

I dreamt of all sorts of nonsense last night. There was a scene where we were driving through singapore with the car top down, except that it was an illuminated flyover that stretched on for miles but doubled as a waterfall. Then I was in an apartment, being shown the triple locking mechanism with double-doors, and I was incredibly intrigued because I was hiding from something of course, like my own personal ghostface. There was another scene where I was looking at my patio and it was summer and I was thinking of cleaning the area up, taking the chairs and tables out of storage, buying a nice table cloth from ikea maybe, so I could have guests over and entertain them. But it was the tropics, so it was summer every day. Why weren't these tables and chairs out sooner?

They were all random scenes at first, short stories with no apparent relation to each other, but my mind eventually weaved around them and brought me to him, the one person that had been occupying my mind these past few weeks.

In the past, I've dreamt of best friends whom I really miss but are not on speaking terms with. I dream that they call, or I call, and we speak, and everything feels right once more. Or we're together in the same room, talking, with laughter, with smiles. And everything feels right once more. Why don't we make the effort to reconnect? Because it takes two to do so. And sometimes no one makes the effort. Now, it is his turn to guest starr in my dreams.

The air was warm, and we were in what felt like his house. There were people there, walking about, extras on the set, setting the environment for the main actors. Then, we were in embrace, we were kissing, and I felt his brown hair in between my fingers, his beard grazing my face, his nose touching my cheek, his warmth on my skin. There was no exploring of the hands, no leading to the next step; we were simply in each other's arms, enjoying the moment we had, what we've always had. As we held each other, he rested his head on my collarbone, and everything felt right once more.