fantastical sap and all that crap
Oh my god. Sometimes I am mildly pathetic in my weepings. It’s not that I am not grateful to those of you wandering around in my past, nope, it’s just that sometimes I make myself sick with the comparisons. I sat down last night and tried to write the poetry I was so fucking prolific with for years and I realized that part of my brain, the part that saw everything in images and color and expression, actually died with that surgery in 2009. I wrote poems on cocktail napkins for years, handing them out to those who’d express an interest–Joe, who worked at ACE bar in NYC had at one point, definitely at least a dozen or two. I wondered last night if they ever got into someone else’s hands. Did someone take credit for my poetry? It’s possible but it died, that part of my brain seemed to die in its expression really then–I was writing pretty consistently up until that point, and now I tried to capture it again last night and there was this recognition it was not as easy as it once was–I used to spew poetry out quite easily and last night I got so caught up in the fact that my writing sucked ass trying to scribe quickly, that then lost my focus and gave up.
I am a bit of a quitter, I will admit. I got my butt kicked a few times, you’ve seen, so things that would actually matter, things that I could succeed at I am fearful of in some ways. But I am toying around with this new idea of retire in 10 years. From nothing to everything–some kind of goal like that could be something worth showing people was possible. I mean, sure, the fact is I might die before I get there but—even a plan which would allow us to work/retire early and make a life that was like retirement, with a lot of the basics self-sustaining or whatever–some way to generate some cash monthly to offset the expense of a decent life–wherever that might be, but it does appear ocean destinations and beachy places might go the way of ruin like most other climate change seems to be bringing–water just has to be at least 55 F daily to get that bacteria that has been causing all those problems down South lately–it’s going to be a new normal and maybe Florida will become largely abandoned, because who wants to lose a leg because there’s too much poop in the water? Not me.
He and I are having some real issues trying to negotiate this whole idea of life and giving me what I want while also not ruining a happy future. Man oh man I want to move downtown. I am afraid to not do it while I can enjoy it, and I have been asking to do it for the past year now since last year this time we did start looking. I want to do it more than I want to save, but since I am about to get creamed with loads of insane medical bills and the student loan can’t be pushed off forever, I think it might be a dumb idea to do. Then there is the logic of a recession coming in the next 12 months, which is highly likely as well. Here we spend about 20% of his gross income on rent but if we move there it’s more like 30% which is not awful but again—there’s the specter of how long I can work where I work, how long can I do what I do with what I do have left? And really, how the hell am I going to make my happy almost retired life. No children, no wedding so far, no house so far, fuck that guys I want my own something. Semi-retired life would be a dream come true. Two homes, one here, one in Europe. Germany or France would be a dream. Amsterdam, I love you to pieces, too. I know the rational part of me thinks–F it, you’ve been supposed to be dead for a while, just live like it’s not going to happen and maybe you can get there with time. Which of course is the resource I have the least of–ugh!!
Let me muse on that and see if any part of this could be achieved and how. I am talking truly going from a point of having virtually no savings to the point where I have a cushion that is money making money on money and all of my shit health luck is defunct of the ability to drag me too much far further down. I am speaking yes, of possibly exploring all manner of ideas and finding my perfect fit–there are so many money making scams and opportunities, too, it is hard to know what to do. I can tell you the MLM crap is just that and I have worked with a few. I think there are ways to do it organically through a website, sure, but I feel like product has to be tactile–or based on some kind of mental talent (meaning talent not dependent on a healthy body). I know there is a way to do it and I think it’s going to take me some time but unless $10k drops on my head any one of these upcoming tomorrows, staying here is probably the better option even if I never get what I want. (Remember that shitting in your hand moment courtesy of my dad).
I do play scratch tickets, guys, do have a little faith. 😉
I have been alive 2+ decades past absolute disaster. I should have started a long time ago, sure, but maybe I can prove it might be better to start later than never at all. 2027 has been a specter year. That is 8 years. Maybe, just maybe I can do it in 3-5. No, really. 3-5. Or, I will just have to get over the fact I lived and died, and retirement’s not promised to anyone. 3-5—–hmmmmmmmmmmm.
