I am not superstitious really. I like black cats (shout out to Sugar and Honey). I am too tall to really walk under a ladder and I don’t see why shattering a mirror is cursing. I mean, no vanity for 7 years? I’d take it. I do want and desire to be repetitious. For all of my life, nothing has been routine. Sometimes by choice, often not, but I operate in a chaotic world. Lately, I am here and there and pulled in so many directions by the demands of the world around me to the point where I kind of don’t really have a life right now (lol. sadface.) i have developed a weird way of coping. rituals. not quite OCD-like constant, interference that could affect my livelihood nor as holistic as say catholic burials. for example, i nowcut my hair with every full moon. dont judge me. been doing it for a year now. i think i notice a few people who have caught on. i embarrassingly admit it to a few others. it helps me. i was tired of living my life by the same calendar as a bunch of losers. so i guess i’m doing it to align myself to the moon. like the real gods. like ra. or pig fucking farmers. and menstrual cycles. and ben franklin’s almanac. i just finished a 40 day cleanse where i absorbed no influence from anyone who’s opinion shouldn’t matter when I die or take my next shit. it goes without saying it must suck to work with me at the 9-5 lately. ask me why i need to go so hard and i couldn’t tell you why, but my point of view on the world and my position is uniquely heightened because of this ritual. i guess its prep work. mental prep work. and these are just a few examples; nothing loony, just weird cerebral shit. Its like new years resolution X self determination X crack. Its how I advance 500000 years in mental maturity in every 18 months. and with that focus on self discipline and improvement, lets just say the pimp tight mentality is perculating and e40rolling (white guy says- the force is strong Luke).It’s spring time in Texas and the winter is clearing. Time to get in shape the Ryan Mega way. Water. Walking. Women. War. it’s less than 10 days from my national holiday, 3-2-1 Day (yeah, I made it up, so there!). Christians have lent and my holiday marks my lent of sorts. If you catch me getting extra drunk at saint patties day parades, its only because I’m building my tolerance for 3-2-1 Day. Because then- I really goes the fuck in. I’ll wake up with a great hangover. Its going to be the last one for a good while. It’s the spring solstice, and 90 days before my birthdayhits near the summer solstice. my year is made in this quarter, historically speaking (granted i’m only 31, so yeah) so i start my grind early in the year. winters coming. gotta stack nuts. summer is hustle season. spring training.. take a chance at something new this spring. fail miserably at a few things. and stick to one for the summer. put that income tax money to something legit with a possible return of income. or buy boobs. don’t just sit back and listen to the birds and watch the bees. they’ll shit on you or sting you the first chance they get. go outside right now. breathe in. breathe out. come in. drink a glass of cool water. and sit and meditate. then think on how you gonna fuck the game up next. and write down a list of happy hours you fucking with this weekend because you only have 2 left kid.
Ryan Mega is a professional muse aka an artist of psychology with a Pavlovian fervor for painting pictures of perfection with a perfect pen, you bitch you.