I live this life, but not by choice. After years it's worn on me. The homelessness and no place to be. I love what you wrote here, but I struggle with it. I want the peace of Walden. I want a little cabin in the woods. I don't feel like I've ever been free. I long for it!
A friend of mine, an older mentor figure, has built a successful business that demands he work 40+ hours a week. Third wife, two kids, ex-wife who sucks his life force with tentacles of alimony, bile, and trying to turn his kids against him. He's in Mexico right now, for his twice yearly stroll outside of the prison yard.
Before he left, he came over to my place and looked around and said: God I wish I could do this again. It was instructive because lately I've been feeling 'behind in life' - not hitting the usual outward signposts of 'success.'
It's hard feeling like a rhombozoid peg trying to fit in square-shaped holes. Thank you for celebrating being weirdly shaped (or is it normal shaped in a world where our souls have to contort to belong?)
A rocket fueled reminder to stop dying and start living ty sir!
cheers
Yes! To WAKE, LIVE -- before it's too late. Thx for the slap in the head!
Beautifully stated thank you,
and thank you for curating the words and ideas from so many wise writers of our past.
Thank you for writing about me!
WOW
You, my friend, took the red pill and took us straight down the rabbit hole with you. 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽
This is fuckin' brilliant! Stasis is creeping up on these old bones, but you sparked one more rebellion. Cheers and Thanks.
I live this life, but not by choice. After years it's worn on me. The homelessness and no place to be. I love what you wrote here, but I struggle with it. I want the peace of Walden. I want a little cabin in the woods. I don't feel like I've ever been free. I long for it!
A friend of mine, an older mentor figure, has built a successful business that demands he work 40+ hours a week. Third wife, two kids, ex-wife who sucks his life force with tentacles of alimony, bile, and trying to turn his kids against him. He's in Mexico right now, for his twice yearly stroll outside of the prison yard.
Before he left, he came over to my place and looked around and said: God I wish I could do this again. It was instructive because lately I've been feeling 'behind in life' - not hitting the usual outward signposts of 'success.'
It's hard feeling like a rhombozoid peg trying to fit in square-shaped holes. Thank you for celebrating being weirdly shaped (or is it normal shaped in a world where our souls have to contort to belong?)