1.14.13
What don’t
you like about yourself: How even an
assurance as little as a breadcrumb can keep me afloat. And when it doesn’t come I shuffle
along. I have one hundred and thirty six
days to shuffle along before I must leave.
How much will that cost I don’t know but it’s a joke now that I am down
to my last few bucks. Yea what a funny
thing but it took me almost four years to accept that I helped build this place
and I should be entitled at least to a room.
And I am but the months will slip away and with nothing coming in tension will present itself, even if I work my fat irish arse. Dependent, independent. If we could agree to the communal approach to living I'd be up for that for sure.
On average I
wear fifteen articles of clothing, seventeen when I do not type, another
unspectacular sunrise, dry, hesitant but it has no choice, the sun, chained to
our earth and what do we give it but worship which is easy when you see it all
day. That’s good, isn’t it? I have been most fortunate to have stayed
here this long. Five months and
counting, geez. And there’s no end in
sight for this ‘sabbatical’ which worries me because I don’t know if I will be
qualified to flip burgers at the end of it.
Vietnam
interests me a little but the heat puts me off.
Taiwan interests me because they have Dunkin Donuts and yesterday I
looked at shelters in Los Angeles. Wow I
could really really give up and still get food and water every day. I’m not
there yet, thankfully. And there’s no
interest in returning to former jobs, really.
Anticipating an end and being on the mountain was all that mattered,
which of course now begs the question, where to now and can I stay there for
more than one year?
A dirty noob
she called him. What is a noob? Days of Future Passed sounds lush even on
youtube. America. I would like to go back. Go down hard and work up again in a new place
with a new life. Maybe that’s it, isn’t
it, to just let go. I’ve been holding on
too long, a free fall into the faith of my father.
I could also
do that freefall here, walk into the jungle eating my way out of
disappointment. Caroline, the Australian
from Canberra, said her goodbyes yesterday after a week in room one. I asked her if New Zealand was the last place
on earth to be colonized and she turned affronted: I think it’s Easter Island,
no, but that’s a good guess. I can’t
believe I have no clothes to work in, except for two ties. Ha. I
could be very expensive, not good at all not indeed.
It is a
problem when no one job motivates to apply for.
Am I subconsciously minding the 134 days I have remaining on this
mountain? I surely hope not. This is so
ridiculous for someone my age. What do I
think I am, twenty three again? How
would have life taken me if I stayed for a second year in China. I left because I didn’t like all my mail
being opened and rifled through for what, for fear. Twenty three years later the interest to
return to the dirty place wanes. I like
freedom and clean air too much to go to Beijing and subsequently Saudi Arabia
though their mercenary money isn’t enough anymore. Even the idea of saving it all and going
another five to six months without work isn’t that attractive anymore.
Laxman’s
father asked me to come live in the ‘small house’ with them. You want to talk hardship, there it is. I suppose when I see myself sleeping on a
sidewalk it is much better, we’ll see I told him. At the end of May I may need to hide behind
your buffalos.
I took off
the socks and my feet saw sun for the first time since Christmas Eve. I wish I could see myself living in a place
where there is no poverty. When did the new
world become the old world? Oh my
hands are
cold, the socks are on again, once the sun floats west the temps drop and why
don’t I go up into the sun.
Below a gong
sends out ripples )))))) ))))) )))) to others listening.
And the rain
falls hard. I woke to thunder last
night, this morning the fresh spring smell was invigorating, and now fighting
with the sun competing with birds and life covered in feet of dust waking up to
the crackle in the middle of January.
Yesterday I helped Maya clean the north end of the lower garden and gee
it looks nice now that the rain is cleaning up.
Quality vs
Quantity, it’s not a hard choice most of the time. Saudi vs Thailand. One has no beer, one has. One has no rain, one has. One has little money the other has too bloody
much. One has a social life the other is
contrived and underground.
And then
there is censorship. Funny how Beijing
and Riyadh fear freedom, the atheists and the fundamentalists banging dumb
heads together.
And as it
turned out the rain stayed and along with it came whipping winds carrying gray
clouds smothering the mountains bringing two rainbows, hard slashing wind,
smash banging thunder, a break before the sun quickly got the hell out of here,
peace and contentment. With night drawn
in the rain pounds and meditation is a sweet silent sound.
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