You won’t listen to this, but you should. I’m not just saying it so I can later say, “I told you so…”
Keep your circle tight.
Do not fuck with anyone you don’t have to. They will all disappoint you. They will all become self-absorbed. They will all make you think, “Fuck. Is this what life is about- survival, by any means necessary?”
Don’t give any piece of yourself to anyone else. Find a pet instead. Find a beautiful piece of land. Find a school to teach at. A team to coach. Find an idea to love.
Humans are a joke. They are an accident. They are asteroids colliding and little worms with blind ambition.
Two wrongs don’t make a right- so don’t be a piece of shit. Don’t hold a grudge. Don’t try to get even. Just let it all go. Find a frog to be your friend. Find a tree. Don’t cut it down no matter what.
Yes, I lost all my money AGAIN. Yes, I got really unlucky. Yes I fired some shots. Yes, I don’t care.
^^^ is what I wrote last night, fresh off ANOTHER session of running into the nuts every hand, moments before falling asleep- glasses still on my face, laptop still on my chest, tilt still very much racing through my veins.
I just woke up right now–in the guest room of an amazing house that an amazing friend is letting me stay at for a while as I try to get back on my feet–and I feel like I should finish this blog post. I should rectify the immaturity and the disgust- and I should try to learn from it. But I can’t yet…
I take a piss and take my laptop out to my office. My friend let me set up an office at his house too. He wasn’t using the room for anything. But still…
I tried to buy in for a lot more than the cap towards the end of the session. I let everyone at the table know I was doing it. I was tilted and running stone putrid EVERY HAND. I think caps–in the biggest game going–are a joke (“Man’s game”). I almost always adhere to them though…
Sometimes you just run too bad though and you can’t take it. And it used to be an unwritten rule that if you were buried and giving action and running like dog shit that you could say, “Fuck this cap, I’m putting more on. I want you guys to have all of it faster.”
Two pros called me out for it. Both of them live in glass houses. It made me angry. I let them know I thought they were jokes and alluded to the fact that they use windex to clean the walls of their homes.
Then I got KK.
I had been squeezing to a million a lot. It’s one of my go to plays no matter how I’m running. People don’t know what to do with it. They are really easy to play against.
Anyways I squeezed to a million with my KK and the spot who had been making the nuts against me every hand called, as did one of the pros who can see his entire neighborhood from the couch in his living room.
The flop came AKQ with a flush draw and I bet half the pot, leaving myself with a half-pot sized bet behind (if/when someone called). The spot folded and the panorama-views-from-any-room-in-the-house pro called. The turn was a T bringing a second flush draw and I check/begrudgingly called off the rest.
The pro had JJ (and the river was a fucking 0 obviously).
Yes, everyone sucks at poker. Yes, most people suck at life. Yes, sometimes tilt lingers overnight.
(I thought writing this would take it all away- it didn’t)
Seriously though. Don’t play poker for a living. It’s the worst environment. It brings out the worst in people-
I swear to God I’m writing this highly entitled, boldly immature, perfectly annoying blog post from a room that is practically all windows.
Did I know the glass house thing would work like this? Perhaps subconsciously. Maybe I just got lucky though. That’s why I write. Sometimes you get lucky and something cool comes out of it. Mostly though, I write because it makes me feel better. It brings back the perspective I’m temporarily lacking. It’s deep breaths and meditation and letting go- all through your fingertips.
It makes me remember that I am lucky as fuck overall. Not only am I healthy and do I live amazing for someone with such a very negative net worth, but I have two beacons for kids and a few people I love (who I’m pretty sure love me back). I also have plenty of earning power and work ethic. I’m gonna be fine, hopefully sooner than later, but who knows? And big deal if writing this didn’t make me feel all the way better-
Oh look who just came to say hi and tell me she has my back and to stop being a big baby because everything is going to be fine…
OK I’m good now. Told you pets were the shit…
No way I’m posting this though. Too embarrassing. Too soft. Too emotional. Too bratty. Too pathetic- of course there is a ton of variance in poker and of course people are going to call you out if you break any rule/they are going to have different views about the dumb cap than you are.
Don’t even worry about what kind of houses the live in…
Venting is healthy as fuck. It keeps you from overheating- obviously. It makes your circle worry about you for a moment. Then they realize you are taking care of yourself. You are getting the irrational out so you can be the chill as fuck, lezgo have a good time, I got your back no matter what, none of this shit matters anyways- we’re all just apes, dad/friend/lover that they all know and love.
Most people vent to one friend or family member. That way they can get whole again and no one has to know they aren’t perfect all the time. I vent to the Internet. I have for a long time. It’s the most relieving way to do it in my opinion. Like if I let everyone know that I already know I’m an entitled joke, what can they make fun of me for? And maybe (because I can go back and read my venting) I’ll become less of an entitled joke over time?
Gonna go chill in that amazing backyard for a while and throw a tennis ball for that sweet dog to fetch. Gonna come up with a plan to have a yard like it myself–again–sometime soon. Gonna figure out how to make getting unlucky in a game that is a huge % luck not such a big deal. It turns me into a baby weekly. Nothing else can. Don’t play poker for a living.
Have a good day- all of you.
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