Blank Slate

So what happens next?

Thinking about finance and career options, today I realized that I am willing to leave Kansas City within a few months if I can find an opportunity elsewhere. An opportunity for what? I don’t know. But really, what’s left for me here? Having all but forsaken my life group, I took stock of my assets. Other than a few loyal friends I can barely schedule a visit with, the only conceivable reason to exist in Kansas City is the martial arts scene. That’s sort of a mobile cause, by the way. Granted, it’s hard to find the right breed of JKA, but still.

I do like Kansas City, don’t get me wrong. There’s more than plenty to explore, if you have the time, funds, and companions. But the 75th Street Brewery or whatever is vastly overrated. Just thought I’d throw that in there. But I would really like to “settle down” here, but how?

Ah. Forget it.

I visiting Ling for the first time since March or February yesterday. Her husband gave me the old “see the world while you’re not tied down” speech. He seems to think (as do several other people who like to write your life for you without consideration of your preferences or goals) that I should teach English in Japan for a while. Tempting. It is…

Last night, I once again found myself in a surreal scenario (surreal, at least, when I stop to consider the context of the rest of my life and identity). I was rolling with that same motley band of Fritz’s drinking buddies, noticing a trend among the attitudes of the poker player types, noticing the presumptuous tendencies of those in the upper echelons of the Johnson County social ladder.

The one guy who perpetually insists that this is the way networking is done, talking to me like I’m a 17-year-old kid. I know what networking is; I went to graduate school. I know a deal can be closed over a glass of Boulevard just as well as a thick oak desk.

It’s amazing how easy it is. A few drinks, the right mastery of social skills, and a vague sense of control over a situation that comes with years and years of strife, mind games, and Martial discipline—and suddenly you realize you can “fit in” with anyone while truly fitting in with no one.

Listening to the self-congratulatory banter of the Johnson County lifers, keeping an ear open for any useful information, drinking along with them but still remaining sober enough to assess the demeanor of the hostess (how does she really feel about this group of regulars, and has she taken notice that I am slightly more cool-headed and reserved?) and the glances on the other side of the bar (are they intrigued that I am the one who doesn’t fit in, or are they just interested to see a quadriplegic being fed beer?). Relating to someone enough to have a good time, but being secretive and deflective enough to conceal the many ways we are polar opposites. Being someone’s friend while simultaneously ready and willing to reach across the table and rip out his Adam’s apple if necessary. Taking their presumptuous offers, advice, and questions in stride. Looking out for Number One.

Am I the only one who knows what Wagner’s Nibelung is really about? That’s off-topic.

One time I saw The Art of War classified under the Business section at Barnes & Noble. I find that amusing for some reason. That is also off-topic.

The buzzwords of the financial world tickle at my ears, though the fruits of their ambitions are only as pleasurable as the memory of sweet nectar on the tip of one’s tongue. I’ve read the cajolingly accessible writings of Martin Thomas and the Church of Affiliate Marketing. For now, it is in my best interest to participate in the façade. I don’t really give a damn about living outside of my means anyway (I just want to travel now and then). After getting a look at the interior decoration (fashion over functionality) of some of the condos near the plaza, I really just want a room without a view.

I’ve gotten darker. Colder. Meaner. Perhaps that means I am almost ready to enter the world of business. What a disingenuous existence. That’s why I hate it.

Fuck Johnson County and everyone in it.

So what happens next? I don’t know. But I’m ready. That is not to say that I like it.