Back To Square One

So here we are again: square one. I suppose it is a euphemism of sorts, though it is not a word I have until now chanced consciously. I am homeless, and now jobless. Frankly, I was tired of my old job, anyway, and I could have kept it by picking up the phone, but, then again, I'm worth more than an employee at will--to put it neutrally.

Inside, I really don't care about what society thinks is right for me. Hey, I am willing to contribute to people in exchange for living. I am simply just not satisfied with the work that is so easily accessible in society, where the intellect is marooned, and the shadow, say, of the brain-stomach dichotomy, eclipses.

Granted, remote work is a boon for such things. It just doesn't come easy. It really is a grand challenge to simply navigate. For the layperson, nevertheless.

To pursue a different point, its like sports on television. For someone like me, it has always stood in my way when going out to bars, or really any social place. It is not me. Sports are not me. And, yet, I am drowned in a society where sports, smoking, alcoholism, drug-addiction, and so on, come down like walls between me and those things, through others, I so desire.

Granted, I had my choices in the past. But having to go out there alone made it impossible for me to go out somewhere for the 80s music scenes (the spirit and sound) I so craved to experience. Instead, I have always gone where the people felt right--where they were nice to me, and I liked them, and I thought everything was genuine. Even though the country music dedication they held sucked, and some of the modern music I had to suffer through sucked.

Too many times have I put my utter faith in the Universe for what my soul felt was right to come my way. No matter how much time I gave it.

But--of course--FACT CHECK! I'm 32, going on 33. I have a loving family, and spend my time with them. I am virtually friendless, though my acquaintances yet seem to flourish righteously. I never get invited to things. Any romance I have ever had has been through my eyes, and [eye]deas. I have a college degree and college experience which mean next to nothing to me. I have the spirit, and no life natural for it to inhabit. And I have a baseline standard of bringing these things to you, as if expressing my genuine sorrow for myself and LIFE circumstances would put things in order for me.

You want to put faith in something?

Put it in those who stick by you; who suffer through for you.

Even if the reality is that even family suffers because they feel they need to, and not truly that they want to--if that is the nature of things, in an existence where everything lives and dies, whether it has ever loved, or not--put your faith in them. Put your faith in your friends; in your spark; in their survival. Frankly, society has not earned any of it; despite what you may have been told.

And if you can get by with pleasing the voids that seek to siphon your light for their hunger: then terrific. I want freedom for the spirit who hungers for more; who hungers for more for themselves, and for themselves to give; who hungers to give their heart, one day, to all; who hungers to finish what they have started, and to rise--taking the whole of Existence under wing--toward some Destiny whose beating heart is our each, and every, moment.