If you could live your favorite movie, would you? Off rip most people would nod their heads but thats merely surface level Click-Whirr responses from the Slaves mindset. Think like a Warrior instead who dismisses the spell “coincidence” and chooses to go in, see dense instead. Whilst not top of my bill I’ll pick as everyone knows the thread and it creates a great point of ref as the story is perfect:
Rocky.
Yeah, that’ll do. For a few, lets pretend you’re Rocky Balboa. See how it fits:
You would start dirt poor. Just over broke would describe it best. People think you have skills but you have no outlet to use it beyond breaking thumbs for hoodlums. This you really don’t want to do because your heart isn’t in and thus people think you’re dim and treat you like this as well. You can box a little bit but there is no glamor or glitz and the money to pain ratio is insane as well because they expect you to put on a performance for a pittance. Not only this but your trainer has all but ejected you from the premises as you are nothing but a bum with potential talent, wasted. He prefers to invest in sure things and that means someone new is in and you’re out on your rear end.
Can you imagine the frustration? It is akin having a voice as smooth as silk but a terrible stutter as well ergo you prefer to remain silent instead and never let people glimpse what truly kicks. On top of this, the one man who believes in you withdraws his protection as well. You have one friend. He is a derelict alcoholic but is overflowing with confidence. He notes your loneliness and tries to hook you up with his sis because he thinks both of you are a great fit as you’re both partially retarded to him. This is your best friend. Hey, at least he’s honest. Thats something…
Really stop and take that in. Thats the first couple of decades and change of your existence. Truly take that mindset and live it as well as filling in the details which bought this child into this realm, how they reared him, the values instilled, environment and the rest. Forget about going the distance, its all about survival just yet. Still willing to take that bet? If you were him how would you feel this instant? Hopeless? Sad? Depressed? Thinking no one gives an F because, historically, they haven’t hence why you’re stuck in a dead end pit doing something you detest with an immense swell of talent within that you just cannot vent? Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? See why I said movies are emotional porn, my friend? They simply masturbate a different aspect to generate a subtler, but more potent, type of bliss. Isn’t that a miracle? I really think it is because these people, their roles, the sets, scores and the rest are pure fakeness but we, viewing, validate it as genuine and offer our stamp of approval to the black mirror of creation which says:
“Cool, if thats what you wish, then so be it!” as it fills in the rest of the sketch. Indirectly you have built a world just like this hence why its very telling what flops and who hits as there are deeper meanings and layers to all of this like I sketched in the thread about myths and the Matrix. Its a kind of magic! Spellbound for ninety minutes as a life is hyper compressed. Lets pretend you were immortal and sitting in the Fifth Dimension. To you the human traffic could be decoded like this. You know, a huge Truman thing. Wouldn’t that be something? Would you truly be invested or not wish to ruin the spectacle ergo you’d watch from a distance as fallen angels with clipped wings tend to have fatal attractions with the flesh. In a totally unrelated spin, have you ever noticed that you can be alone, by your Self, and feel, intensely, that something is present and staring directly with strong attention? You look in that direction, see nothing, keep glancing and then, eventually, the mood shifts and you get back to the business of living. Stranger still, as those with pets attest, the dog may bark at the invisible whereas the cat simply glances up from its preening and tracks the one visiting as it walks through a wall, across the room and out again. Reality is only half a truth and the rest is stranger than any fiction, my friend. Just ask a schizophrenic…
So, pretty much of nothing happens. You’re quite fit and attractive but yet, single. You mingle with your turtles and thus you accept the date, set. Whats interesting is that you’ve obviously known Paulie for a bit but his sis is a bit of a dark horse in the sense that she says next to nothing. Not surprising really as the dude is volatile and, seemingly, has drained her confidence like he sips the bottle he keeps on hip. You make your approach via stilted conversation. A date is set. Much success! In comparison to how things have been this is an absolutely immense win. “Lets go iceskating!” you think. And off you went.
Lets take a break for a sec and sink into the flesh of the character. Can you feel the anticipation? The venture into the unknown as a new train pulls out of the station and offers a glimpse or hope of salvation? You are still hesitant to truly invest because, lets be honest, you pretty much took her hostage but at least its progress in some respect. Would your heart be thundering? Unsure of what to do, say and express? Afraid to make a mess? Wondering what happens next? Don’t read these words, feel instead. Once you do then get back on thread, yes?
So, now you’ve lived the emotions lets see what happens next. Bear in mind, you have no idea of the outcome. You’re going in blind with this big bet as you stack your chips on a potential that may or may not be certain as you don’t have a clue whats behind the curtain. Thing is, its got to better than the hand you’re dealt, correct? I mean, when you’re born with nothing and you’ve got pretty much all of it left then what the heck? Lets risk it all on a game of pitch and toss with the common man (or woman). After all, you may come out like a king. I say this because I’d be willing to bet a large majority of people reading are in this exact same position but too busy beating themselves up in their heads as they watch reruns on television for the familiar comfort it brings. Like I said, there are levels to this and what pours in from the black mirror, suspended, says a lot about the Soul thats taking it in as its scratches a deeper itch in a place most are too busy remembering to forget…
The date goes swell.
You like this girl and you can sense that she’s coming out of her shell. All those years talking to the turtles paid off well! On the other side of the rainbow we have a man who is the best. He sits at the helm of his realm and is surrounded by signs of success. Thing is, when win is your default mode of operation you need to seek a challenge. This is the difference between those with a losers mindset that make nothing and the ones who rule like kings. Did you spot the difference? Dig, you can play it safe and rack wins but that is exceedingly boring. Sure, it may make you rich, let you sport a perfect record and ensure that the brain damage most fighters get doesn’t kick but, in the words of Cus D’amato (the real inspiration behind Mick) you aren’t truly a fighter as they need hit and not get hit but, at the same time, be exciting. Really think about this juxtaposition and you’ll see it makes about as much sense as stiff prick on an island full of lesbians ergo he seeks one in a billion to manifest his intent. Well, that he did get. Let me share a quote from his words of wisdom that fits in, perfect, just like Mike did to the style he built around him and turned his weaknesses into strength whilst making the best use of his wrecking ball fists via the use of elusive aggression:
“No matter what anyone says, the excuses or explanations they sling, whatever they do in the end is what they always intended since incep“.
Ouch. Thats some grade A ether, right there. Can you feel it? Its the kind of stuff that makes a slackers Soul burn slow as those who Know nod their heads as they’re the exact opposite and have already seen the win before stepping into the ring. Thats what Apollo did as he was too busy promoting the spectacle for mass appeal to think this underdog would have a bite and bark to go along with it. Side note, did you spot that Stallone named the role a Saturnian slash Zeusesque serpent god whereas Creed repped the Sun hence the label they gave him? Its a tale as old as time itself as they pull the heavens down to the terrestrial realm but with a deft inversion, some window dressing and a slick narrative so many don’t even click whats hidden in front of them. Its worth noting they made Apollo Black whilst his counterpoint sports lighter skin. Why do you think that is? Oh, by the way, in case you think I’m reaching:
Baal + Boa. The Saturn element was from Rockys name itself ergo he’s an amalgam of elements including Zeus and Set that have, historically, jostled for position as the one who gets the most worship. You’ll note that serpents and dragons were globally venerated before being demonized, real quick, and yet, to this day, the Game of Thrones got its hits due to these characters of myth. Or were they something else? Haven’t you ever wondered? I did and still do. Getting back to it:
The Champ has a pick and his name is Stallion, Italian. He plans to rearrange his face so his title could also change ordering. Its a friendly game he’s playing but he thinks the hype would be immense as here is a everyman nobody going toe to toe with the reigning king. A rags to riches story in the making. How are your threads, my friend? Have you been feeling in the emotive details as requested or did you remember to forget and just read the text and thus decode a low res when I’m beaming 81K into your chest with the intent to spark gnosis? If you failed the test go back and start again. Its worth the investment in the end as you’ll never look at the movie of your life the same again…
Rocky is made an offer he can’t refuse and, being him, did. Do you know why this is? Its to do with a little thing call the Heroes Quest (or Journey, if you wish) and it goes like this:
The world is ordinary. Life goes as it is. You get a glimpse of this at the beginning as the pace, back when, in flicks was glacial compared to modern hits that are either totally front loaded or empty their clip in trailers which leave nothing to the imagination as peoples attention spans have vanished. Actually, this flick was a dope pick for many reasons, wasn’t it? Thanks imagination, you’re the best! So, the next step is the call to adventure and this is where the phone rings and Rocky picked it up and said “Nah, not interested”.
Everybody does this. When opportunity comes knocking many peoples knees start wobbling hence why they prefer to put it off instead and blame him, or her and them for their apparent lack of success. Its like Cus said in the quote I mentioned. Have you ever met a guy that was talented or attractive but simply didn’t believe in himself and thus did nothing with it because, in his mind, he was defeated before attempting? Its exceedingly common. I’ve lost count of the amount I helped by telling them negative thoughts are there to challenge and how the whole Game plays out inside their heads. On the flip, there was a guy whose ears were cauliflower and nose bent around itself like he was trying to sniff the ear on the left and yet he stayed with a fresh ten on deck. “How?” you’re asking. Well, in his mind, he was just that and, quote, “They’re lucky to get a piece of this prime rib”. I am not joking. We couldn’t figure it but it was the sheer disdain and confidence with which he slung his lyrics that had them falling over themselves for his attention and trying to prove they weren’t basic. Its a funny old world, isn’t it? Like I said, its who they are within and not the external that makes all the difference. Tell that to the plastic surgery generation but thats another topic…
Its very interesting how when Rocky drops into the office he fully expects to be nothing more or less than a sparring partner. A human punchbag. A rented target. That, in his mind, is his station. Its where he fits best. I call it the zone of discomfort. Outside it where the magic happens but if you listen to the voice in your head you’ll constantly be hemmed in until your lifes a string of “Remember when I could’ve contended?” war stories you tell your friends. No stripes on an imaginary general, my friend. Plenty of shell shocking they won’t admit though. Balboa responds with a simple “No” before getting talked into it by a well dressed promotions pimp. Whether you think you can or you can’t – you’re correct. Words to live by. Die by them as well because you’re actually an immortal wearing flesh and life is the grand test/scheme/wheeze (delete or add as you please) in which the great Game takes place inside your head so who (and when) etched your programming? Two words shattered your inner realms. Two of them. Most would never admit this but its take it to the bank solid. Actually, wait a minute, they sell all the money thats fit to print so lets say its as genuine as he sun, blazing, overhead.
So, Rocky refused the call. If you’ve been feeling the emotions as requested you should be able to conjure up a moment in your life – maybe even in the present moment – where you’re doing the same thing. In that case, stop reading this and go do that instead. I assure you it will pay far greater dividends than consuming another immense run on sentence. You may even meet your mentor. Thats the next stage on this Quest. Well, in Balboas case, he was more of tormentor as old Mick was curmudgeon, par excellence, who placed him on the row of skid and cussed him out as well. Lets take a quick Mike break as the retired pugilist has now became a toad licking philosopher instead:
Never a truer word said. In my case my friends set me up, left me for dead and then I fought my way back to this realm again because I simply refused to give up my adventure in the flesh as so much wasn’t yet done. On the flip you may chill with a clique that blows smoke up your rear end, always says yes to everything and never, ever challenges you a bit. Those are your true enemies, my friend and, in the end, you’re doing it to your Self. Who knows, that may be your script, eh? So, Mick says “Let me train you, you son of a bish!” and you know the rest. The message is when you take a step toward success he’ll look in your direct and intimate that spell means to consume poop. Get it, suck, cess? Its a kind of magic, yes? Or a layer cake, if you will. The stench is nothing to Rocky as he was born in it, molded by it. He is so familiar with losing that he accepts the hand dealt and thus can’t even imagine a win. Are you like this in any areas of your life? Ask why by questioning the child within. The results can be most interesting as a guy, once upon a when, divorced his wife, in an instant, when the shaky hand in ink reminded him that he’d spent enough time playing the role of emotional stand in for a father, long dead, and how this current relationship mirrored the misery inflicted on him by his mother, the narcissist (now dead), who said:
“Now thats selfish, think of me instead” any time he attempted independent steps.
Sometimes that reassurance and validation can make all the difference. For Rocky this was externalized as Adrian, his retiring feminine Yin.
Next we must cross the threshold aka put the effort in. His first challenge was shedding the label of Incel and he did this pretty well as he simply wouldn’t relent until she acquiesced. These days he’d get put on blast via socials, recorded and lose his endorsements or something. Probably get a restraining order as well. Ah, times were simpler then and even easier still when Sean Connery laid his hand down like a pimp. Strange how the blue haired white chicks that were determined to run a man born in the Nineteen Thirties name into the filth over what he said, back when, were oddly silent about Coco Chanel “sympathizing” on Nazi magic sticks? You have to hand it to Bill, the jokes tell themselves except they’re historically accurate. Ah man, these tangents. Sometimes it feels like I’m transcribing a fractal as my mind expands, everywhen, from that still place in the mid I call Centered in Self. Where were we again? Oh yes. So, the next thresh is appearing on TV and showing the world he’s ready to contend. Paulie, his “friend”, is (as usual) hating. Its all good, a little pressure never hurt a coal and its what creates diamonds, comprehend? Rocky is no longer a nobody, he’s almost somebody but yet you’ll notice his ego is still nil. This is the exact reason why so many artists make their best album when they’re flat broke and starving. The fat them laced with success and recognition simply dials in the performance and, worst of all, people accept it. One mediocre album after the next from an old dog with dentures that used to be ferocious. Compare that to how Pac pushed the pen and you see an artist who does it best with roaring passion and sentiment, genuine, that pours from his chest as he captures intense moments that will never appear again. Not chasing a cheque, another bish or current trends. Thats the difference between a flash in the pan success and being a living legend at nearly thirty years dead. He wrote them songs a looooongggg tiiiimmmeeee agoooooo!
All of a sudden, out of the woodwork if you will, come loads of friends and some who pretend but are the opposite. “We always knew you’d make it” drips from saccharine lips as they rub their palms as well. The smell of success is in the water and they want in. Rocky is tested. His budget is pretty much nil so he starts with whats around him which means pounding the pavement and beating on meat as well. Pause. Something is missing. A crucial element. Like the reason pineapple is served with ham may just be due to the cannibals and when long pig flesh was kicked onto the “Do not consume” list on the Hawaiian islands SPAM made a great alternative. In this case it wasn’t a topping, divisive, but Mick instead. I know we already met him but things don’t really start to kick until the approach is made and deal, sealed. Rocky throws a bish fit and, thus, embraces his inner Self that was previously suppressed and repressed under layers of tension. Note, I’m not speaking on those social media male feminists that lack testosterone and think that simping online as cause supporting will get them trim as their wills are as weak as the wrists that struggle to open their plant based protein replacement or talk to a girl in the flesh. No, not one bit. I’m speaking of the shadow aspect which, for Rocky, was his inner feminine. We all posses one. Plato said both were once at the helm and its lack is why we seek in another what we can’t grant to Self. The mystics, on the flip, said thats a load of BS and the Kingdom is within but thats a deeper topic. I’ll go with them because, from my lens, its most accurate as two broken cups, tinkling, asking each other for a drink is no relationship and, besides, I’m so selfish I wear ribbed condoms inside out so the pleasures all mine!
Rocky is stressing as the zone of discomfort is akin to regurgitating all the fears and dreads you’ve been saving up since back when. This is the real reason people accept the crappy life, the short end of the stick and the immense amounts of BS. A part of them, somewhere, Knows this is correct and they’d rather shove their head up their rear end and discover it fits well as they get comfortable and settle in. By comfortable I mean in excruciating back pain due to the arrangement as they pay for light bills to remove the darkness whilst getting accustomed to the stench. This, my friend describes best the life of a Slave. The 81%, totally unexamined. I thought it might be interesting to pitch an article at them, for a change, by using modern myth as art is a lie that tells the truth, yes? In that respect I’m the luckiest man in the realm as I came up so poor I couldn’t afford to pay attention to illusions and thus kept my head on a swivel and soaked up raw Game from playas who were sworn in before pots in which to whizz and windows form whence to sling were classed as living lavish. Or, as a denizen of the pavement once said:
“The reason we had no locks on the door is there was nothing worth stealing! What are you gonna do? Nick my wireless or vinyl player the size of a park bench? Good luck moving it”.
Yes, times were hard but we was content with grammar being incorrect to fit the rhyme schemes intent. Getting back to Rocky:
Its time for the ordeal. This is the challenge that begins and, for some, ends them. Many have popped under pressure and some choked as well. This where the coal must shed his old skin and reveal the diamond within and, as you can probably guess, it hurts like a bish. Can you feel it? Have you been flexing your imagination as you decode the sigils I’m firing in your brain as a direct demonstration that the spell “pretend” actually hides and immense secret instead:
This is why the flick is never a patch on the book, my friend. Its the difference between a gourmet meal, served fresh from the chef who knows you well and made it special, or a TV dinner instead. For the instafacetweeet gen it would be reduced to chewing gum instead. Initially super intense but totally lacking any depth in the end as you’re sitting there, gums flapping in the wind. Or maybe flat champagne would be more accurate? Immense life lesson in that text if you wish to check. The steps set the stage for his main challenge as the visuals are intense and show just how far one must stretch to finally get into their element. Head in anus, recollect? You’ve got to unkink that spine, my friend and stop kneeling at the feet of midgets. Or is that politically incorrect? Should I refer to them as vertically enamored embracers of gravitational resonance instead? Would it make a difference in the end? Ah, I swear, these words are magic spells and will make you miss the elephant as you’re too busy addressing the curtain, rope, wall and the rest of the fragments in a time of hyper specialized mass ignorance of the bigger pic. Reeleyez, my friend. They spot real lies, real quick so allow the realization to ascend from chest to head as we progress.
The steps have been conquered, external mountains are now molehills so he turns his attention within and doubts he can win. Remember what I said about belief and manifestation? He decides, instead, to go the distance. That, for him is as good as win and will prove to himself and the rest of the realm that he has talent. Here comes the reward – Getting his ass whipped. The round starts with him taking an endless string of hits but then something happens and he chin checks the king who wobbles, in surprise, of his strength and determination. Can you imagine how this felt. Let that adrenaline hit, feel it coursing through your system as your previous doubts are eviscerated and replaced, instead, with strength. Something like a mental alchemist who rearranges the pieces in his grip and thus develops free will. Oh, its on now. he has sensed a weakness as he dropped the champ with a dig. Rocky is holding his own in the ring. The fight doth progress and Apollo comes, blazing, like his name said. The underdog is ready to be taken out behind the kennels and shot in the head but he, like Jesus, gets resurrected.
The fight is ferocious, both push the limits. Balboa cracks his ribs and thus shatters his confidence that was already torn to shreds. Just at that minute the bell rings. There is one round left and his vision is clouding. This is the time where will must battle imagination and the flesh, often, throws in its little bits and says it wants no part of this mess. Its the burning heart that stokes the fires of confidence, my friend, and, with this in mind we head to the finals. The digs are ferocious, each gives all they have left and, at that moment, the bell rings. Whats the decision? The scores on the doors say the champ remains king but, to the people, Rocky deserves the win. A legend is created, things will never be the same again. This is the part of the script many want to live but, if you’re still reading and have been imagining, it took nearly five thousand words to reach this conclusion. Where are you on your trek? Has your Quest even began? If not now then when, my friend? That is the question as time and tide wait for no man ergo the best moment to get started was yesterday and if thats gone with the wind then why not unwrap the present and sprinkle some attention on the fertile seeds of your gifts that nobody else will ever believe in until the tree stands erect as it was quietly confident as an acorn ensconced in ignorance that its time to shine was coming. But only if you’re willing to take the hits and put that work in. Thats the difference between a hero and coward as they both feel the same thing but its what the latter didn’t and the former did that made him a legend whilst the other yells at a TV set and pretends that is him.
That is the power and paradox of film as it can be a prophylactic for success or the genesis of greatness. Do you know how many people, of all races and stations, bonded in martial arts gyms, back when, thanks to the efforts of one Bruce Lee who, against odds that make this flick seem like a walk in the park, set his mark and enforced it. To this day his name rings bells as another living legend, long dead, that remains as an inspiration as he was so far ahead of his time that most simply couldn’t comprehend his depth and skill. Same with Van Gogh who painted the background radiation of this realm with his swirls and drifts but cut off his ear as no one listened. Am I singing to the deaf or do you hear me on FM? That is the question. For now, lets get back to the end which is where it all begins:
Rocky makes his return to the ordinary world that he left and things will never be the same again. He has won. The magical elixir is in his grip and its taste upon his lips. Against all odds and using all the reserves of strength he possessed he pulled off a miracle and turned almost nothing into something quite undeniable as testament to the power of one man with fixed intent and tunnel vision which simply refuses to quit, acquiesce or give in because he Knows, deep down within, this is his reason for living and why he donned skin to enter into this realm and play this immense Game we partake in by using our Souls as credits so the question for you is:
You know what you want to do, why aren’t you doing it? I believe in you, my friend, because with this article, immense, you went the distance and, in the end, you are another aspect of me (or figment of my imagination, if you will) and I’m simply telling you something you already know within but may have been scared to admit or never looked at like this. Now you have the gnosis, your eyes are open to the potential that lies, waiting. The question is how far along are you in the challenge because you only create the Path by walking so all you have to handle is the next step and let life pitch in with the rest because miracles can happen when you believe in Self and that, to me, is the only life worth living as the alternative is a duplicate without original and thats a death sentence in fancy dress, comprehend?
Till we meet again
