Put it Out There

I was on my way to a friend’s house a few days ago, when I saw an old friend I’d last seen at a memorial to another old friend, who passed away well before her time. Needless to say we’re both doing much better. She was dropping off a tent, and I asked, “How have you been?”

“Oh…man, incredible. So much better than the last time you saw me.”

“Oh, good. Same here. Do you have anything going on, do you want to grab a drink?”

“I can’t right now I’m actually on my way to get my passport picture taken.”

“Right on, you going somewhere cool?”

“Yeah, I’m getting ready to leave for Paris in two months. I was going to wait until next year, but I can’t put it off, you can’t put life off–you know? Tierney tough me that [she was our mutual friend who recently passed away at the age of 30].”

“Fantastic! I would love to travel, but I have to keep putting it off. Living paycheck to paycheck isn’t really conducive to global adventuring.”

“I know, I was living out of my car at one point–did I tell you about that–after the divorce? Now I have such an abundance that keeps growing ever day.”

“Wow! What’s your secret?”

“Put it out there. You just have to ask everyday.”

“Ask who?”

“The universe, I don’t know, you just have to put it out there. Everyday. And it’ll happen.”

I scratched my head and said, “I’ve been asking the great dark void that surrounds this planet for shit since I hit puberty. I didn’t get laid then, and I’m not making bank now. There is no world peace. I’m sorry, you must have something I don’t. There’s something you’re doing that I’m not.”

“I also keep a journal.”

“Of the stuff you want?”

“Yeah, if you put it out there, it comes back to you.”

In the same way shit, Drano, and puke careen off to the water plant, then back in our cups. She also told me about her magic mushroom summer, the night she spent “meditating” with a guru at a music festival while tripping, and her plan to traverse the Himalayas for some 1000 year old monk–the harbinger of magical, ancient wisdom. The kind of guy who could show us the way to life eternal if we all raked in about four grand a week cutting hair. Don’t get me wrong, she’s worth every penny, but it annoyed me that she wouldn’t just tell me what I already new about her. She had to feed me some pseudo-spiritual nonsense on the same plateau as Ouija boards and seances.

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