Sidney Sheldon.
I lived with my grandmother for a summer when I was 20.
She had a surgery and needed someone around, so I was down for the beach life.
On a whim,I dug through her closet and found these stacks of books,
“the other side of midnight”
“bloodlines”
“master of the game”
I had chewed through some Stephen King by this point, but nothing like these.
Full on stories.
Love, betrayal,sex, manipulation.
The long con.
This writer, was so incredibly talented at building the long con.
Completely in his head.
I was so fucking jealous, but in that respectable way.
“I’d give my left nut ,to be able to build like you do”
Tore through these books, holding down a job at a nearby mall and stocking groceries at night,
Puff a joint on the patio, then Completely exit this reality and dive into someone’s fiction.
The game-
The wound is in the response.
When dealing with a group or an individual.
You say things,then you watch how they respond.
You’re essentially “probing”.
And if you get good at reading the response, it will tell you all you need to know.
Monkeys love a game.
I think it’s in us.
If we were created through interplanetary seating by a superior race, I’m absolutely convinced that that race enjoys games too.
Problem solving etc.
Apply it to the system we live in.
Various work environments, with various clowns bashing and talking shit about coworkers.
Social game.
Raise yourself, marginalize the opponent.
I’ve done shit where I’ll like,,, shit how to phrase this,,, I would tell someone something that was completely untrue, betting on the fact that they would spread a rumor.
As a way of exposing how they play the game.
I’ve also made myself the enemy, as a way of uniting other people. Nothing brings people together like unified hatred.
I’ve played with it.
With the game, with the rules,with the whole thing.
And there was a while that I convinced myself I was a sociopath for it.
But I like cats.
I genuinely wish the people I like the best life and reality.
I actually do care.
And I give a fuck about the people I root for.
I don’t think I’m a true sociopath.
I am , however, hyper-aware of this game.
Work ethic and results aren’t the key factor.
It’s about people’s opinion of you.
It is how you guide them to think about you.
Which is manipulation at its core.
Not how I would want it in my perfect world.
I would prefer people operate under a code. I would prefer that the content of character superseded all the superfluous.
But I didn’t make the game 🎯.
Just Born here.
Killing it at work today.
Feeling a random ping of pride for my close friends.
Proud of them for their progress. Proud of the perseverance. Proud of the effort and backstory. The growing distance to backstory.
All these fucked up characters, being demanded to play this game.
Honorable choices and moments of defeat.
But…
No fucking surrender.
Not ever.
Fuck the god damn mother fucking predictions, fuck the sideline commenter, fuck every one of these god damn monkeys.
No surrender.
No yielding.
The ultimate goal is to exit the game altogether, and interact with people in a better way.
Cause we’re not competing.
We have nothing to do with each other’s food.
We’re both fed,and there’s no need for game.
Or ego.
Or pushing opinion.
Or othering.
Or judgement.
Or slight.
Shout-out to Sidney Sheldon . So good at what he did that I’ve carried it my entire life.❤️
dawn 