Corners for Creativity

If you can’t play reckless you aren’t free. You are broken the day you are born. You are complete the day you die and the day you die only. Until then it’s your responsibility to drain as much energy into the world as possible. You aren’t safe.

You might think you’re escaping the gravity of gradual decline when you’re resting, when you’re lazy. Laziness punishes your energy worse than exertion. Exertion is restorative. Laziness is decline. The best nights sleep you’ll ever remember still include 20+ instances of tossing & turning. Your body and mind will betray you when you stand it still for too long.

I’ve always utilized my time in the gym to shape myself into a blunt instrument. A speartip to be skewered into the world.

My relationship with pain is warped. I chain myself in the squat rack until I puke, I batter the lifts over and over again until they’re second nature. I can’t imagine spending my precious time doing ANYTHING and not wanting the most from it. If a little kid wants to race me, I’m running like I’m up against Odell Beckham. No mercy against any creature when we’re competing. We can shake hands after.

I’ll never forget one particular day-it started as any other-I was the only one in the gym at 6am. I built up to the upper limits of my maximum Snatch & tried to break my personal record by a single kilogram. Tried 16 times in a row. Scrapping for every kilo. Every miss I could feel the power grid in my central nervous system rattling like a bullet train thundering over steel grates. Ear drums louder than my heart. I tore off my Olympic shoes and went to my car.

Didnt have it in me this day. Sat in my car for 10 minutes & was filled with a mystical, tyrannical rage to go try again. Like more alcohol is the cure for alcohol sickness-

I always go back and bite the snake that bit me.

Maybe trying to break my record by a single kilo was the problem? Maybe I need a dirty bar? (You intentionally load a few kilos on one side and not the other. Adds a demonic variable). So I loaded an extra 5kg on one side of the bar and not the other. Chewed through it like a table saw. Made it easy. Added another 5kg. Caught it and stood up with it. Easy. I remember the weight feeling like it was suspended in infinity. I even rotated my thorax slightly with it locked out over head to showboat to the gods. I took a slap jump and with all my power slammed the weight down onto the platform like the hooves of a wild mustang bucking under a thundering sky.

SPARKS

I had 600 bucks to my name, all being stored in my glovebox. I’d entered several dog fights this week to get more but came out the lesser man. It began to rain. Torrential downpour. Something came over me. I checked last minute flights to Vegas and impulsively booked one for $200 a few hours of now.

Vegas is hell on earth when you’re broke, and paradise when you’re flush with cash. I wrestled with myself about the futility of flying in with only $400 to spend. But I missed my favorite steakhouse, my favorite bartenders, my favorite servers, my favorite hotel workers. Plus there’s no better feeling than riding through the bleeding skies while everyone is working during the workweek.

Arriving in Vegas on an arbitrary Tuesday, city dead, only people running amok are outlaws & hedonists. No return flight booked, no hotel room booked, no plan. I’m designed for this shit. Specifically tailored to deal with the unknown.

A little known fact about Vegas is that anyone & everyone who makes their money illicitly at one point or another goes to Vegas to give most of it, if not, all of it, away.

No human is immune to the unworthiness that claws at them like a Wolverine when they know unconsciously how they’ve made their money.

They come to Vegas to torch it all in spectacular fashion. They want to lose. They join high stakes poker games, and bluff it all off. There are professional poker players in Vegas who make 7 figures a year purely selecting games to play in with these aforementioned types present.

They’re gluttons for punishment. Losing provides them a bigger high than winning. They love to win so they have more to lose. These are men of colossal reinvention & ingenuity. They love coming back from nothing. The criminal mind and the warrior mind work in the same way.

One’s motives are escaping death relentlessly, the other’s pursuing death relentlessly.

Hours later, wheels are down and my confidence is up. I break loose out of the airport, track down a limo. I smell opportunity inside the casino-within 10 minutes I’m in the sportsbook compiling a parlay. Full slate of college and pro basketball. I make 5 rugged off the cuff selections (all chosen from the heart). At the final second I decide to shoot the rest of my bankroll on the 5 game parlay. The ticket gets printed, I now have $0 to my name and my fate for the evening is chained to combustible elements in which I have 0 control.

In 15 years + of extreme gambling, I’ve hit less than 20 5 gamers. They’re comically rare. But I’m here to press my back against the wall. This is when Primates are at their best.

Vegas weather is always an odd mirror of LA. It starts to pour here too. The games now have a very dramatic war-like weight to them. After all, I still have no return flight home, no room booked, it’s thundering rain, and I can’t turn back now.

One moment at a time, this dance is going to build into an electric crescendo-the outcome truly irrelevant. I’ve been doing this for so many years now that there is factually no bad outcome.

I roll up to Jean-Jorge steakhouse & get the swarming welcome. Hugs, handshakes, the usual suspects are all there providing 1st class service. I call my favorite bartender aside, hands sturdy on his shoulders and tell him my predicament. I need him to spot me dinner. I’ll be back later in the week to settle the tab. He slides me an icey goblet of Dragons Milk (the best Stout I’ve ever had) & without a flicker of hesitation tells me to order whatever I want. He sees me here 3-4x a week. Been coming here and ordering the same thing for years. I’ve never asked for a favor before.

My games are starting in 30 minutes. Might as well fill up with premium fuel and relish this moment. Australian cowboy bone-in ribeye come out. 30+ ounces. Everything on my plate disappears like an ice cube in a blast furnace. Bill was 280ish. We shake hands and I fly downstairs to the VIP section of the sportsbook. Have it all to myself. Feet up on the leather couch, and a battlatikn of panaramic TV’s set up with each individual game I have my stake in. 4 games all starting at once. The last one starting an hour later. My adrenaline & cortisol gushing like an oil derrick.

I go for the occasional walk through the casino, spark up an unfiltered Nat Sherman. Deep down I don’t care for sports at all. I can only watch when I have a stake in the matter. It begins to dawn on me that if any one of these games loses I’ve got a long night ahead of me. This excites me. Worst case scenario I know I’ll be going to the poshest bar and going home with a woman if the whole jig goes bust. How do I know? It’s happened so many times before and each and every time I’ve pulled a miracle save. Which leads me down the labyrinth into a new and outrageous adventure. But needs have never not been met. I can’t really lose. That’s why I came.

Knowing I cannot lose allows me to take risks regular people couldn’t possibly fathom. My L’s are absurdly temporary. And like Rumplestiltsin I always spin wheat into gold.

This move was particularly gutsy. I’d never left myself with truly no way out. Perhaps in the past I’d at least had a return flight back, or even a room booked. This time I was just flying blindfolded in an aircraft through space into a minefield of asteroid debris. But every time I’m fatigued, broken, demolished, my bounce backs are always glorious. I always feel the sweet taste of victory no matter what. Because I’ve got my back. And that’s why other people have my back. If I lose this, I won’t regret a solitary second of it. It’ll embolden me. Enliven me to take more aggressive advancements forward. It’ll intertwine me into other peoples lives and establish footing in new and wild relationships.

A few hours crawl by and sure enough, I’ve won 4 games. Clippers Vs Pacers is up last. I inhale the smoldering winds of my cigarette and crack a half smile. Of course it’s gonna all come down to the last game. All the drama is consolidated down a funnel into a combustible engine of chaos. I live for this shit.

I needed clippers to win outright. No spread. The ticket paid $7,600. On a $350 bet. I shut my phone off, took a few tunnels to the Bellagio and walked around their fake exotic gardens in the foray. I’d turn my phone back on in a few hours so I could see what my fate was quick and dirty

I powered on my phone after what felt like a hectic eternity and pulled up the score. Chest pistoning into my sternum-clippers won.

In the flash of an instant reality had materialized & conspired to bring me a nice little $7600 bounty. The money was irrelevant. I was happy to inject myself into the forefront of the adventure. Standing at the edge of the world without a care in the world. True freedom-lack of care or concern for oneself. Reckless? Sure. Death wish? Nah. Life wish. It always works out. One way or a-fucking-nother.

Nights that end like this one did, always end in the most perfect blend of bliss & sleep.

I cashed my ticket, ran upstairs to the restaurant and paid the bartender back. Tipped him $500 on top of the 280. Will never forget the look of gratitude in his eyes. Bought myself a durable hoodie at the gift shop and went over to the hotel desk. Booked an $800 suite. Enormous, a corner unit.

Clashed open the doors and airplaned face down onto the bed.- the feeling surety, the feeling of victory, of glory. I chase these feelings every fucking day. I could care less about the money. I just want to win. I want challenges and obstacles that force me to overcome what I think is possible.

30 stories high, I’d never felt so comforted, so positive, so sure this is what the game of life is all about.

It’s about rupturing the plane. The common notion. It’s about surpassing what you’re supposed to become on paper, or limited by your genetic predilections.

It’s about boundless willpower and strength. And then you have to take it all and go build a tribe, give it all back and win the war all over again.