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“I’m not really into an open heart; Bilta, I’m into an open wallet“, I reply as I sit back down on his sofa, “I got bills; a family.” (4/21/2019)

“That’s why start the private community page?”, he replies as he turns his head back to me and bites his lip.

“Yeah”, I continue speaking as I take a sip of my cold soda, “it just helps out people, yo.  It’s good for everyone–it’s good for me.  You help enough people find success, that they truly want, then you are bound to have your dreams come true.  That’s basically my strategy for how I run this business, Bilta.”

“So it’s just for Dorinto?”, he replies as he turns his head back to the digitalTV and rolls his eyes, “whatever, loser.”

“No! This time it’s going to work–I really feel that I have a good idea this time.  I feel good about this, yo.”

“You are a gambling addict, boss”, he replies as he shrugs, “feelings aren’t facts; opinions aren’t a basis for decisions.”

“I designed a website–it looks all fancy and shit.  I think that it’s going to be a big hit for everyone–I like what I’m doing.  That’s what matters–I am happy.”

“You should just watch more TV”, he replies as he leans forward and grabs a handful of digitalpapitas, “I mean–get a hobby or something.  You don’t really know what you are doing–every week is another idea.  They never work–and, you never work.  Why don’t you go to the heart of the matter–get to what is really happening.”

“What’s that?”

“Boss”, Bilta continues speaking as he pours hot sauce on the papitas, “you have an unrtreated gambling addiction–the real issue is that you are using chances as a plan for success.  That doesn’t work–you have to stop playing the lottery and become the lottery.  It’s a good plan, in life.”

“How would I do that?”

“Consider how lucky you are–how fortunate that you are in your life.  Not compared to anyone else–but, because you’re a piece of shit but you can go to bed and wake up.  Consider how many mistakes that you’ve made in the past; how many bullets that you’ve dodged–consider how things could have turned out very differently with just a small change here or there, yo.”

“Like what?”

“Only you know, boss”, he continues speaking as he puts the digitalpapitas into his mouth, “ultimately–you will have to accept that you are lucky; you are not a loser.  It doesn’t matter what anyone else says–where your locus of control lies–but, instead, you need to just take a breath and feel gratitude.”

“Because I’m awesome, yo?”

“No”, he replies as he rolls his eyes, “because you aren’t.”

He pauses; he leans forward and picks up his cup; he takes a sip of soda; it tastes more refreshing this time.

“But”, he replies as he turns his head back to me, “because you aren’t great, nor talented and you don’t really have much right to be where you are right now.”

“On your sofa?”

“Yup”, he continues speaking as he looks out the window in his studio apartment, “your wife kicking you out of the house is not my problem.”


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To Be Continued… The Misadventures of Bilta and That Random Dude That You’ve Never Met, Before, But Think You Know, Yo! (4/21/2019)

Bilta shrugs; I don’t really like the title.

“I’m not really into that, boss”, he replies as he rolls his eyes, “it’s a nice idea–but, I don’t think that it really works that well as a book title.”

“It’s an idea”, I reply as I settle into the couch in the studio apartment, “you know–you’ve got to start somewhere.”

“You should start somewhere else–like, not here.”

“You mean with my writing or what?”

“Just like”, he replies as he rolls his eyes and turns his head to me, “consider leaving–it’s nice that you stopped by to spend some time with me.  But, why are you still here?”

“At the apartment?”

“Why not?”

“I mean”, he replies as he turns his head back to the digitalTV, “you have a wife and family–why you spending time with a velociraptor, yo?”

I sigh; I complain about him visiting and then here I am hanging out at his apartment.

“Yeah”, I reply as I sigh, “I got in a fight with my wife–wanted to blow off some steam so I came over here to get out of the house for a bit.”

“I think that you picked the fight for the excuse to leave–consider which came first; the desire or the action?”


“You probably already had your mind made up”, he replies as he shrugs, “I’m a velociraptor–and, even I know this, yo.  Come on–this is easy. That’s why I want you to leave, now–you’ve been here, too long, boss.  Head back and mend fences–make amends or some shit.  It will be fine–it always is, kinda, maybe, somewhat, probably not.”

He pauses; he takes a sip of soda; leans forward and grabs a handful of digitalpapitas; he puts them in his mouth.

“Plus”, he continues speaking as he turns his head to look out the window, “when you leave–there is more papitas for me.

“Yeah–some ulterior motives?”

“No”, he replies as he rolls his eyes and sighs, “I’m just thinking that it’s best–consider that.  You can’t stay here forever.”

“But, I can try–or, at least, for a bit more.”

“Yeah–do whatever you want, yo.  Just remember that I’ll be here–it’s your life but consider that you have responsibilities to others.  Make others happy–you’ll probably have a decent life.”

“When did you get so smart, Bilta?”

“Who says that I’m smart”, he replies as he smiles, “remember… I’m just a velociraptor with a limited mental capacity and small hands.”

“Your hands are fine, Bilta.”

“Shut the fuck up, cocksucker.”

I pause; I roll my eyes.

“I’m going to punch you in the face, Bilta.”

“What are friends for?”, he replies as he rolls his eyes and grabs another handful of papitas, “so… like anyways–are you for real going to leave?  Like–that wasn’t a joke.  I’m kinda getting sick of you hanging around here–but you can come back anytime you need, yo.”

“You really mean that, Bilta?”

“No, asshole”, he replies as he turns his head back to me, “it’s just, like, a figure of speech.”


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“Bilta!! Why do you keep staring at me? I feel really uncomfortable, awkward and anxious–yo, please explain your actions.” (4/21/2019)

He pauses; he sighs; it’s never easy. He turns his head to the digitalTV.

“Your zipper is open.”

I look down at my teflon pants; oh-my-God–he’s right!  I pull the zipper up; I turn my head back to him.

“Um…”, I reply as I shrug, “thanks.”


“So anyways”, I reply as I turn my head back to the TV, “you want to get out of the house–go on some adventure?”

“It also says YKK on your zipper”, he responds as he sighs and leans forward and grabs a handful of palomitas, “you’re welcome.”

I turn my head down; I lift up the small piece of metal; no shit–he’s right.

“Huh?”, I reply as I shake my head, “that’s interesting–I guess.  Like, anyways–what was the point of saying that?”

“It’s cause you don’t pay attention, boss”, Bilta replies as he puts the palomitas in his mouth, “you are just on autopilot–constantly criticizing me instead of doing some real thinking.  It’s easy to say this or that but can you pause and think–make a statement from something that you have thought about, yo.  It’s easy to keep telling me my problems–can you make a point to stop and look at yourself.  Instead of making me the culprit in your misadventures–let it go and do your own thing.  If you want to go on an adventure–you’re an adult.”

I pause; I take a little sip of my cold soda; it’s refreshing but a little less this time.

“I think that what I really want to do is just going for a short walk–get some air; think about things before I say something that I am going to regret, yo.”

“You don’t need my permission.”

“I’m not asking”, I reply as I roll my eyes, “I’m just telling you how it is–I’m going to head out now.”

“You making the lame excuse about buying a pack of cigarettes?”

“That may be the plan”, I reply as I get up from the sofa, “I won’t lie and say that thought didn’t cross my mind–it’s a consideration when I’m thinking.  So like–I’m just going to go grab some more soda.  You need anything from the store?”

“Yeah–two bags of digitalpapitas and a tube of digitalfruitcandy.”

“Ok”, I reply as I bend down and pick up my bookbag; it’s such a hassle without plastic bags on Dorinto, yo.

I turn around; I take a step to leave his studio apartment; moments later, I shut the front door; the air is cold; there’s a light snow falling; I zip up my black hoodie; I put my hands in my pocket; what am I going to do, yo?

Moments later, I arrive at the small digitalgrocery stand on the corner of Saint MSLK and POXS; it’s empty; strange for a Tuesday, yo.

“Welcome Jamie”, the cashier exclaims as I open the front door and take a step into the heatedspace, “we have a fresh selection of digitalpapayas from Planet OUNDS. Let me know how I can help you the best?”

I turn my head away and roll my eyes; fucking robots.


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“Prone to the darkness; prone to the light”, I continue speaking, “that’s why I hang out with bad people–at a large distance, yo.” (4/20/2019)

“Yeah”, Bilta replies as he scratches his head, “that’s not how I roll, yo.”

“Consider it, Bilta”, I respond as I turn my head to look out the window in his studio apartment, “it works wonders.”

“How so?”

“You know–you’re kinda a dick.  I mean–let’s not lie about that.  You hang out with a bunch of good people that are trying to be cool–you or them are eventually going to going over the line.  You can’t always go back once you cross the demarcation zone barrier.”


“Oh–nothing”, I reply as I shrug, “thinking of an old joke that someone told me on a bus when I was a teenager, “but… anyways, be with bad people to be a good person, yo.”


“You know”, I reply as I turn my head back to the digitalTV, “you notice that I never go to church–that places is ful of good people, yo!  I have to avoid it–it’s my trigger.  Good people–so instead I just stick to my thing, work and family.  You know–the three things that matter to me.  Me, my wife and that dumb shit that I have to do to pay the fucking bills.”

“See, boss”, he responds as he turns his head to me and rolls his eyes, “you do have anger problems–consider talking to someone about that.  Preferably, not me–but like someone, somewhere, in your own time, and, definetely, not here.  Just like leave—go some random place and talk to someone about your anger issues, yo.  But, like… let me, at least, please, por favor, finish this fucking TV show–I’ve been watching the whole series and this is the final episode.  I feel very invested in the story, at this point, I want to see how it ends.”

“He punches you in the face.”

Bilta rolls his eyes; he sighs; what a dick, yo.

“Shut up”, he replies as he settles more into the plaid sofa, “like… why do you think that someone asked you, yo? Why do you think that your opinion or ideas matter? Like… who told you that it was ok to just blurt out what you are thinking–do you think that is ok?”

I pause; this is too easy, yo.

“So like”, I reply as lean forward and grab a handful of digitalpapitas, “like… so how does the digitalTV series start–begin there and then see when it diverged?  You will start to understand how mysteries work–how there’s a couple different ways that you can go? In this sense, a small change given time matters; you don’t always need to know the answer or ending–just find where it changed.  Was their a mistake?  That’s the value.”

“The value is when you stop talking”, Bilta replies as he sighs and turns his head to me, “I’ll pay you 50 pesos for you to be quiet for 0.3937463 nanoseconds, please.”

“Mission accepted”, I respond as I shrug, “so like… did you want me to stop talking right now or some, other, random, unpredetermind, time?”


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“You’ll have to constantly guard yourself against the good person trying to be cool; a nice person who wants to suck.” (4/20/2019)

I shrug; you know–whatever.

“I mean, Bilta”, I continue speaking as I take a sip of soda, “you have to just let it go–don’t let some random cocksucker that you have never met, and, will never see again, ruin your day, yo.”

“Yeah”, he replies as he sighs, “but, it really got under my skin–it hurt.”

“You can’t focus or stay stuck in a moment–especially one outside your control, Bilta.”

“He said that my green polka dot jumpsuit was lame!”

“You know–he’s not wrong.  I mean–it’s true.  Why you acting like that’s not true? He shattered your false illusion and left you with no cover and in public.  It hurts; it’s rude; accept it.  Let it go, yo.”

“I can’t.”

“You are only hurting yourself”, I reply as I shrug, “if you want to spend your life getting revenge against someone you don’t know by hurting yourself, no one will stop you.  It’s your life–you can self-destruct in private alone, as much as you want; that’s your privilege.  You can ruin your life–you can destroy yourself, if you want.  That’s how it goes–what do you want from me?”

“I just want a friend, boss.”

“Yeah”, I reply as I shrug and grab a handful of digitalpapitas, “I want a cold soda and a couple hotdogs–doesn’t mean anything: a desire, without an action, is a whisper in the breeze, yo.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means, Bilta, that it’s gone–the moment is lost.  There’s nothing that you can do to go back and change things–you have to accept it.  It’s rude and wrong; and, that’s how life goes, yo.  There’s nothing that you can do to change things–maybe change how you go out in public.  If people keep talking about your green polka dot jumpsuit–consider wearing something different when you’re out, Bilta?”

“But”, he replies as he shrugs and grabs a handful of papitas, “I really like it.”

“That’s the price that you will have to pay to express your individuality–you’ll have to constantly fight against the prevailing wind.  It will, eventually, be more energy to be unique then to fit in–pick your battles and where you want to stand out.  If you spend all your energy and time fighting battles that don’t matter, you won’t have the capacity to do the shit that you want–the shit that matters, yo.  Is that the fight that you want your life to be about–the green polka dot jumpsuit?”

“Yes”, he replies as he puts a handful of digitalpapitas into his mouth, “I mean… you know–maybe, not?  I’m not sure that’s the soapbox that I want to stand on–like, I don’t know if it really matters, that much?  Is it really worth it to express myself, if it means that I need to constantly spend energy protecting myself?”

He pauses; he takes a sip of his cold soda; this is a pretty delicious soda.

“Yeah”, he continues speaking as he turns his head back to the digitalTV, “maybe–I think that there’s other battles to fight?”


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