motivational letters from struggling entrepreneurs

I sleep over 12 hours a day. Is there something wrong with me? Yes.

So I sleep in around 12-15 hours a day. Since there are only 24 hours in a day I’m actually only consciously currently living realistically only around 8-12 hours of the day. I moved to Scotland to get out of New York City. Everyone I call and talk to tell me how excited and fun they would think it would be. I didn’t even really think that way when I considered moving her on a spontaneous random whim. I really don’t understand myself. I Just don’t want to wakeup to my reality.

Sometimes I think I am dreadfully depressed. With this thought I really want medically marijuana just to get high and laugh really hard at sitcoms and comedy movies being fuzzy and high. However, I don’t live in California and I really don’t have any great weed hookups anywhere. I’m not even a pothead. I suppose I’d prefer natural high over medications that have a list of side effects just to make you less depressed.

I find myself to level headed to consider myself a depressed person. You see, that is the problem. When you are not either or you are in a constant dilemma with your mood. Sometimes I just want to shout, “Someone help me! Someone hug me! Fuck me! Be my friend and hangout with me!” blah blah blah. I’m sure you have been there. I dread being so lonely and unexcited about my environment that is suppose to be so exciting told to me by everyone that learns of the position I put myself in.

I’ve thought about suicide. I’m a complete ultimate fiasco of a failure by any American success story. I suppose since I was brought up Catholic and all I know of the more spiritual world and reincarnation is that is suicide really worth it? I really don’t want to goto purgatory and be stuck in my current thoughts. I also don’t want to be reincarnated as a mentally challenged, disabled, or bug. No thanks. I want to die being free and maybe just get to chill out for a few centuries with some hot babes that are angels. I thought if I did just end this silly life I’d do it by sky diving. I have a fear of heights, but it would be pretty almost to fly and drop down for a few minutes before I flattened myself like a pancake.

But I must get it together. I must finish my writing, a film or two, continue to trade the stock market, and continue to go mad going after the American dream I’ve been brainwashed so well with growing up watching Saturday morning cartoons. I don’t know it just might be Scotland weather…

Family intervention, lack of support, and motivation for those in need – Trading stocks, home-based businesses opportunities, ex.

My middle sister came into town today because her husband’s sister lives in New York City too. I always love to see my nieces and nephews growing up. Family intervention came into play because none of my family, friends, or even business associates support any of the things I’m passionate about. My sister tells me trading stocks isn’t stable, unpredictable, and I can’t create a career from it. For the most part she’s right and I can’t argue with her because I still have not been able to continually trade profitable into a position where I can live off my trading as well as the home-based business opportunities I run. It’s tedious being in a position where no one supports you except the salesman who motivates and supports you to join his business or buy his next product. He isn’t your friend, but he’s your only friend so you continually do anything he says. I can switch this over to drugs. Nobody supports or motivates you to do things you really believe in so you use drugs because your drug dealer tells you it’s okay, everyones doing it, and you’ll feel better. And for the most part he’s right and he’s your only friend while your family belittles you and you have a lack of a support system for you to grow. So I accept that what I want so badly that I always feel is right at my finger tips, but falls through 99% of the time. My sister pointed out as most do that everything I do is something that is “going to get me rich quick”, however what she doesn’t know and everyone else who doesn’t support what I do is that I actively market, advertise, and run my businesses whether it be trading or home-based as a business. It takes work, hard work, they never see therefor think I’m just trying to do some scheme to get rich. It is upsetting and frequently devastating to any bit of confidence and motivation lack still in me. Even practice trading takes a lot of work. No one except myself seeks the thousands of paper practice trades, stock research, and charts I’ve analyzed for plays. Trust me it’s no get rich scheme it’s work that takes lots of time, effort, and study just like any other profession. It sucks having only the salesman as your friend, but he is the only guy that still motivates you to go out and get it. If only family, friends, and business associates were more helpful maybe I would be where I feel I should be today. The road I travel is far less traveled and many of the seeks detour and give up. America wouldn’t be the greatness it is today without all the entrepreneurs and traders who didn’t give up even if it took their crazy ideas 30 years to become realistic things that improved the lives of everyone. It’s a mother fucker but it’s important I don’t give up, ever.

I call this “motivation for people under 30”, my email response back to a young friend struggling with jobloss and finance problems.

This was after receiving an email with, “waah wah waonk wa waonk wank crap – i’m going to lose my job I hate my employers, they are taking my high pay away, i can’t afford rent, i can’t make band practice, i’m scared, i won’t be able to survice and pay cheapass rent, wah wah wah, i’m nuts, my life is over, i don’t get all my shifts to make shit money (well i say shit money for NYC) – cry me a river justin timberlake.”

(friend). don’t take this personally. but i’m the messenger. and here’s the truth.

truly stop bitching. start praising your current employers for getting rid of you so you can get with a better company even if its not in tours. focus on the band. make that happen for yourself and your bandmates. for once try to use your degree to have normal working hours. you aren’t in a bad position at all and if you hate your employers its a plus to move on, find employers you do like that give you respect in return for being so loyal, and grow up some and not take their shit. sometimes what you don’t want is what you need. if you can’t afford rent just move out and move in with me for the time being. my landlord doesn’t care and i can make space for a bed so rent is off your back which would be a short-term solution. you could live here for as long as you want. wait until you have to come up with paying around $3600 month in real bills. no offense, but just rent and a credit card bill shouldn’t scare you and if they do i can put real fear into your life. losing a job does increase the stress but in your shoes take this as some new reborn freedom to enjoy sleeping in more, collect unemployment, budget, and again work on waiting for a better job that improves you not destroys and upsets you. shit one day you’ll be a badass like me and have to deal with things like court, going to jail with butt rapist, losing $100,000 in a year and over $200k in 5 years on poorly made investment choices, and your job turning you into a fat loser because of age and so much fried foods they force feed you to turn you into a worker zombie.

take my advice. fucking breathe. stop the bitching and start living.
if you want to crash at my place give your landlord notice (if you don’t have a lease) in which if you do then get a roommate to live in your room with you. european crazy cheap chicks go for that shit. might be the best thing in your life. you might actually get laid. make babies. then you have real problems on your hands, well not problems, but much bigger obstacles to find money to provide for. actually scatch the female cheap roommate. find a guy who’s a cheapass like me. i’d do it. fuck i had to sleep in a mini steel room with 16 bunks of dirty, horny, dudes that farted 24-7 and jerked off with tissues and socks. hahaha. yea that was gross. but its was for real and i’m glad its over.

smooth sailing to ya! my doors are open and you can eat my glamorous leftovers because my antisocial roommates won’t or don’t even try to eat my food that remains in bulk. bastards. now i have to eat the shit for an entire week. you know what its like eating split pea soup for an entire week? your shit turns green and you get bored of it. thats about it.