Spending forever in the clouds.

I was reading back through these recent nonsense posts, and we sound like a person who is going insane. That is only partially accurate. The real story is far more interesting. I am actually going insane while blossoming into a beautiful flower. I'm only kidding. I'm only partially kidding. Life is great.

I looked back deeper into these online writings, which have been going on more or less since 2006, and what I learned is that I haven't changed as much as I thought in the past twelve years. The fundamentals are about the same. The only difference is that I've simply gotten older and I've had more practice with my brand of self sufficiency. I understand stoicism better, and I'm less fearful across the board.

I've learned that less is better, and less than that might be better still. Many complications are optional if you are willing to write your own rule book or define your own normal. I'm not suggesting that everybody should imitate my nonsense, but at least I'm not stuck anywhere, or beating myself up too bad, or struggling to gain material assets, or fighting to fit in.

I'm lucky. I doubt I could do any of that stuff even if I wanted to, so it's an asset to me that I can't. Yes, that makes my beliefs suspiciously convenient. And if I felt like it, I could actually wave my lifestyle around like a flag of genius. What I do looks cool when you are up north facing a depressing winter. My superpower is that I'm willing to live with a film of grease and do most of my pooping at a Winn Dixie. I consider this trade fair if it fosters a better kind of crazy.

The truth is I am forever in the clouds. The truth is I am practically the luckiest person alive, and I feel guilty when I forget that.

Further Reading:

Music and sunshine and bicycles are the only real stuff. Those are the ingredients. Portions and purity don't matter much, and you can add other ingredients, but if you omit one of those three, you get scurvy.

Help me tie my shoes, and I will build you a house.

Living in a minivan. Life is on pause. This is all I can handle right now. This is not an exaggeration. This is all I can handle right now.

I am thinking obsessively about quilting. I have been excited about sewing for awhile now, but didn't land on any avenue within that vast wide world of fabric and thread. Now I've discovered "modern quilting" and "improv piecing" - keywords which ignite fire in my brain. I want to begin, but I have impediments in my path, both physical and self-imposed.

Making a quilt in a van isn't easy no matter what. I feel huge resistance when I perceive any lack of efficiency. This is true of everything I ever do; putting a sock on my foot entails debate. I want to recognize this handicap, and get past it. My brain tells me not to even begin something until it is possible to have an efficient flow. In reality - logically - I know there is great strength in beginning something new even if you aren't ready. You can't have momentum if you don't begin. Especially with an artistic endeavor, any forward momentum, no matter how minuscule, is vastly preferable to wheels spinning in my mind with no resistance.

My brain will always cook up reasons to postpone any action, but this "lack of efficiency" is a major one. I don't have a home, a sewing studio, Adderall... and each of those hurdles comes with a series of smaller hurdles. I feel like I need a miracle to be able to jump up and over this. A breeze is a hurricane.

Here is how I think I need to do this: Shower > Find any acceptable room in Austin TX > Find doctor, therapy, Adderall > reassemble sewing studio > adapt and normalize.

I don't feel ready to feel any cold temperatures while living in a van. It will take a little bit of time to look at places and move in somewhere. In the meantime, I will be living in a van, and cold will make that hard. I will feel lonely. It will be hard. Even though I know this, it won't feel how I expect. Failure is possible, and I am very much in need of a win. I need to maximize my likelihood of success. I desperately need help.

Let me tell you how this feels: Sometimes I see somebody changing a flat tire on their bicycle. They are fumbling around, probably using a screwdriver as a tire lever, and success doesn't look at all like a given. So I offer to help. I can assist with advice, tools, or just do the whole job. I can fix a flat with my eyes closed and underwater. It's nothing. The things I fumble with in life are so simple to the average person that it wouldn't even occur to anybody that I might need assistance. Without privilege and a strong safety net of friends and family, I would probably be actually homeless. I am fumbling trying to fix this simple little flat tire, and I desperately need help, and I am surrounded by bicycle mechanics whizzing past, but nobody will stop because nobody can see that I am quietly going fucking crazy here.

The things I am good at - and there definitely are some! - do not help me with the fundamental details of daily living. I have a lot to offer another person, and I do not need much in return. That's how I see it. Help me tie my shoes, and I will build you a house.

My pocket was close to the earth.

I put my hand inside the left pocket on my 3XL zip-up hoodie and felt a crumpled up receipt. I took it out only to discover that it was not a receipt, but rather a strip of bacon. Eddie was like "dude, I'm glad to see that you roll around with bacon in your pocket."

Maybe it's the crystals and the kratom.

"There Is Nothing Wrong With You"

I read this in my notebook this morning. I wrote it there last night. What an excellent statement to embrace! We spend so much time and effort measuring ourselves against some nebulous idea of what we should be. The way we wish we were. I spend so much energy identifying as a person with ADHD and confusion about gender and sexuality. Realistically though, we can drop all of that baggage, and it doesn't change a single thing. I am good enough right now. You are good enough right now. Fighting with ourselves, and being disappointed with ourselves is not productive. Let's improve our lives because we want to, not because we feel ashamed about aspects of who we are.

[I am attempting to articulate this message to myself, and anybody else who it might resonate with. I recognize that it probably sounds trite. Oh well. That's what I've got right now.]

I want to be happy. I want to feel proud of myself. Those are my goals. I haven't been giving myself enough credit. I've done some cool stuff. I'm not afraid of hardly anything. I ride bicycles. This is one of those times I feel like I've got it all sorted out. Maybe it's the crystals and the kratom. Also I'm on a tropical island with chickens everywhere, and the baby chickens are really cute.

I'm not excessively careful about van camping. I park in the same place and blow weed smoke right out the roof vent. I have about the most low-key rig on the island, so that's a plus. I don't want to run into trouble, but I'm also not wasting any energy sneaking around like a nervous ninja.

I don't have a point here, I'm just trying to write an update, and this is how it's turning out.

I have errands and ideas and some work to do. I've been a little worried with myself that I'm not able to get any of it done. Then I decided that I'm not going to do a damn thing I don't feel like doing right now. The only difference is worrying about it or not. Now I'm not. There is nothing wrong with that.

I laid back on my thin tri-fold mattress, and focused on my breathing. I didn't focus on my breathing, but I was aware of the practice, and I made an attempt at clearing my mind. I released thoughts into the sky like you might release a dove or a pigeon. I could hear crickets, and the soft sweeping of palm fronds on the roof of my van. What more could you want. What more could you want!

I'm back in Key West. Got here on Christmas Eve.

I'm in Key West. I don't know what the hell is going on in the universe or with my life, but I am living in a minivan in Key West, and there are a lot worse places to be utterly confused and overwhelmed by life. At least it is sunny and I can wear shorts and sandals all the time.

I'm not really keeping up with any of my metrics for life improvement, but I'm not about to beat myself up about it either. I'm alive, and for right now that's going to have to be good enough.

Actually, a few things are good. I just made some real good money from selling books. I have enough money to pretty easily get a place to live in Austin, which as of now, I intend to do. My friend Luna down here is renting a place with a shower, so I've gotten to use a shower a couple times, and will probably take more showers. I got some fabric to make an experimental quilt. Ten fat quarters from the only fabric store on the island. Cool.

All I really want to do is make some quilts. I have equipment along with me, but a minivan isn't a great workspace. I don't know what I'm going to do about that. Hopefully something.

I have never felt less capable. I almost can't get myself to do anything at all. It is depressing as hell. I am getting alright at accepting reality and breathing. Being on a tropical island is definitely a help. Key West is such a total cartoon it can go a long way to mask minor personal madness.

I'm writing in a notebook again. I feel pretty open to write a lot here, but a notebook is private, so you can really scrawl whatever sort of shit, so I'm glad I got a new notebook going.

I feel like I have enormous potential. I don't feel like I am reaching any sort of potential. But I'm just going to hide out down here for awhile. I can ride a bicycle a little bit, get some coffee, feel hot and dirty, and generally just horse around for a month or whatever.