In his mind, he had already made it.
A mate he adored more than life itself, a chiseled body that people would kill him for, in the worst way possible because it was that good, a hill top mansion that lay sprawled across the lush steppes overlooking the majestic mountains, a diet rich in organic fruits, vegetables and varieties of cooked chicken, beef and lamb, levels of creativity that bordered on the highest spectrum of productivity expressed through writing and speaking, a voracious reading habit that saw him engaging in two books per week and an indoor farm that provided him with the world’s most powerful strains of marijuana.
In his mind, he had already made it.
When he wasn’t making sales calls or reading online articles or reading books, he was imagining his life ten years from now. He had kept a leeway for advances in technology as well. Like the fact that Starr and himself could embark on day long flying trips across the hills propelled by a backpack engine kit that ran on marijuana bio fuel and could be used by any person to fly provided he or she had mastered how to balance its power correctly over multiple trials.
The meat that he would eat wouldn’t be obtained by killing animals that contributed to global warming but rather grown from animal cells in a lab, as evident from the current market forces that were sweeping across the world to be the first to bring the product to market. He couldn’t wait to see what else the future would bring. It was safe to say that he wouldn’t be relying on an algorithm to tell him which mate to talk to and settle down with, in fact, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to commit himself to one person. Time would tell, although all the images that flashed through his mind were always with one specific person. Only time would tell if that was so. But he knew, he was sure it would be her. For him, he had already made it.
Having realised there wasn’t much to life than comfort, fitness, mating and social relationships, the latter three rooted in evolution and the former a by-product of the industrially manufactured present that had to be earned by creating value in the free market economy or being a lucky heir of an inheritance. In his case, he was the latter, and in his mind, he had already made it, aware that he was, about the capabilities soon to be within his reach, a result of consistency, dedication and habit. It wasn’t being easy, not one bit, but, he was managing to thrive. One day, by one day, he was managing to thrive. He had always known he was meant to thrive.
His life revolved around controlling his mind and quietening it enough in order to tell it explicitly to sit down, listen to his conscious self and obey, one small task after another, day after day after day, reading, writing and lifting. In a few days, this routine would be hardwired, a new normal for his new self, the old one confined to the bin of history, its crevices full with cracks of procrastination, bad habits and bodily abuse through multiple substances.
He was counting down the days for his new self to emerge.
Conqueror, unstoppable, alpha.
Marijuana Maharaj 