Like my Uncle Les used to say . . .

So much of poker is based on your mentality. It's about confidence and the way you mentally approach the game, every session, every hand. I wake up in the morning feeling fresh, sit down at the computer, and open up my tables. Five hands in and the morning's facade comes crashing down. All of the residual destructive forces that seemed to have disappeared over night  surface. You always try to leave poker alone when you shut down the computer for the day. But waking up everyday and getting crushed eventually wears down your ability to shake a bad day, because it feels like everyday is a bad day. All the losing starts nestling up inside you and transforming your mentality.

Last week I would start playing poker and immediately feel like a heavy weight boxer in a title match, but it wasn't my title match, no I was subbing in. I was a punching bag. I was the guy who had the line against him 11:1, that line was for me making it past round 6 - I'm not even sure they laid a line for me to win. That's what it feels like, like my only goal is to make it to round 12. Just be on my feet - it doesn't matter if I can't feel my face and I'm fighting six versions of the same guy, but only one of them seems to be tangible. My gloves feel like cinder blocks, too heavy to keep up. So I just stand there praying that the beating will end that I'll hear the bell and get to take a break. That's not a winning mentality. You can't win at anything with that mentality, because really, all you're trying to do is not lose as badly as you think you will - winning doesn't even seem to be part of the equation.

This is a graph of my "profits" (profits given in Big Blinds and not dollars) since arriving in Thailand and starting my stake. The green line is money won or lost, the blue line is money that is won or lost when we go to showdown (neither the villain nor I fold), the red line is money won or lost (usually lost) when either the villain or I fold. The little straight black line at the top of the graph is the zero marker - I've been dive bombing out of control since my arrival. This is the sort of  trouncing that starts affecting your whole life.

Last week my staker and I talked about what was going on after I sent him that graph. That is not a graph of a winning player. That is not a graph of someone who is utilizing their perceived edge in the game. 

That is the graph of someone who is getting soul crushed. We use that term in poker "soul crush." I don't think I've been on this side the the battle field before, but it really does permeate through your entire life. It sucks at your soul.

Waking up only to  be reminded that you are terrible at what you do is a hard thing. Then, having to do it and walk away from it like nothing happened is even harder, but you have to do it if you want any happiness in your life. So my staker and I talked. We were honest with what we saw and we've decided to give it a rest. Take an extended holiday, while I get my feet under me at my new job. I can't imagine a better thing to do. My staker has been a stand-up guy the whole time, something that shouldn't be taken for granted in the gambling world. It's not over for us, but something inside me needs to reset. I'd like to make his money back for him. I'd like to get back into poker - I love the game. But as things stand I'm taking a breather, so I'll see you later "you secret handshaking assholes." (Rounders Quote)

Ain't Living No Dream

      The juxtaposition of the setting and situation are almost literary right now. The tides have changed, so the tide is actually in when Jackie and I get back from school, which means occasionally we take some Thai ice tea down to the beach and watch the almost smooth ocean as it runs up against the sand. This does mean that it will be a little bit before we're able to update our "Tide Pools" segment. So this is the setting. I couldn't argue with a single element of it.

       I think I'm getting sick. I've been eating less than a meal a day over the last five days. I'm exhausted, but I can't nap. I can sleep at night thank God, but I can't nap. When I do try, (though I honestly don't have time for naps)  I just lay there arms tucked under my thighs. I'm sure I look like a single link of unhappy sausage.

       On top of being exhausted and not eating, my body aches. Everywhere aches as I sit in the dark writing this. It's this chair I think. I never leave it. Isn't it sad to be one minute from the coast and an assortment of adventures, but rarely make the time for them? The drapes are drawn all day; the lush green trees and their clinging ephiphytes aren't visible. I'm just sitting half naked in a large room with a laptop and the air-conditioning blasting. It's been another day of getting destroyed on the poker tables. Rob swooped in this morning and did a great coaching session with me, but when I hit the tables variance took over.

      I'm not sure how much more variance I can take in my life right now.  It has become painfully clear to me why people don't take off on adventures similar to Jackie's and mine. Even Jackie's adventure seems better planned then mine. Most people don't understand variance. If poker teaches you one thing, it's what variance is and how it feels to be on either side of that equilibrium. Variance is always there in poker. If I get all the money in on the flop, that's after three cards have come out, and I have something as cliché as "Big Slick" an Ace and a King (AK) and some fish calls me with an Ace and a Ten (AT), even if the board is Ace of hearts, Six of hearts, Five of clubs (Ah6h5c) the fish rightfully should win money 12.7% of the time. He has basically given away his money, but he's not dead, in fact he is entitled to 12.7% of that pot. Of course that's not how it works. He either hits his ten and takes the whole pot or he misses and I get it. Some days the fish get all the bait. In fact almost everyday I've opened up tables since our arrival the fish have left me with an empty bait bucket and nothing on the stringer, which is why Rob was helping me out with some coaching. Back home, when I had my own bankroll and even a little money in the bank I didn't stress over the variance. It happens. It's part of poker. Now, with already having to split half of my "profits" with my staker and not really sure how I’m going to make it from month to month it's hard to see a 230 euro pot get shipped the other way.

      It has been pointed out recently to me that I've fallen into a holding pattern. It's true. I doubt it seems like it to many people, since I'm suddenly in Thailand, but it is true. I'm not really sure I'm any closer to achieving my goals then I was a year ago. I'm actually further away. My career path is shaky at best. I keep telling people I want to be a writer, but only a very small percent of writers ever really end up in the money and I would assume those people are writing screenplays and novels. I'm like a child, still writing my short stories and hoping that they get published somewhere. That isn't a slam on the short story form, it’s one of my favorites, but it's no way to make a living. I've recently started doing internet content writing, which is a grind in itself. The first assignment, the one I'm still working on is five articles at 400 words a piece. The article topics are the following: Farmers furniture online and drop leaf tables; farmers home furniture and farmhouse dining table; farmhouse coffee table and farmers furniture; drop leaf table and farmers home furniture; and farmers furniture and drop leaf table. I get paid a penny a word for the articles and I have to check them for content duplication. I'm trying to picture James Joyce hammering through these mind numbing articles so he could move on to writing The Dubliners - it's hard to do. But if I want to be a writer I guess I have to start writing and I need the money. I've also started applying to jobs around Phuket. I've not been systematic about it, but I'm applying for English Lecture jobs, hotel jobs, and a sub-editor position at the Phuket Gazette. I'm pretty much doing anything I can so I don't have visa issues in five months. I'm not looking forward to the prospect of overstaying my visa and doing jail time.

           The clock on the wall constantly ticking, ticking, ticking, makes me think of my childhood home in Sanders. The other day when I was scrapping along the bottom trying hard to just end up knocked out so I didn't have to deal with anything I realized that I have no home to go to anymore. I think this sensation hits a lot of people at some point in their lives, but it's scary. It's scary because home has always symbolized a safe place, a place where you can lick your wounds, a place where the outside world isn't allowed in. With the lack of a long term visa and not having job that's supporting me Thailand certainly isn't going to be place to wide from the outside world. What I kept thinking about is that if flew back the United States right now, how would I pick a destination? There are obvious choices. I have family and friends, but I don't have that single place that I would fly to for sure.