Sometimes I don’t know what to tell you about my life because sometimes I forget how to tell stories, and I get trapped thinking that writing=stories. But hahahaha it doesn’t, joke’s on my writer’s block. Here’s to beautiful moments without plots. Here’s to rambling thoughts without clever punchlines. Here’s to every beautiful sentence ever written, just for the hell of it.
Whenever I want to write, but don’t know where to start, I write letters. Lots of great stuff comes out in letters that I would edit to tatters in any other form. But in letters I just let it all be, and sometimes I even say articulate things that I am happy/surprised to read again later. Even though (especially because?) I don’t obsess over just how I say them.
I’m always trying to figure out how to tell you about my life. About why I live it the way that I do. About the little cogs that squeak and turn in my head. But ever since I quit trying to force everything into a neat little plot, I’ve been uncertain–where to start? Here. A peice of a recent letter. Yeah, that’s the spot.
“It is so weird to hear people talking as if they don’t have enough money when they earn at least twice (or like, 55,000 times) as much as you…this situation has grown more and more bizarre for me in the last year or so. My whole perception of money has changed drastically through my decision to more or less live without it. At the moment my only expenses are the oil and garlic I buy about once a week (which adds up to about 3 euros). Then sometimes Mars and I rent a video for 1,50, which always seems like this big splurge. Or I buy a couple of beers (65 cents each and I get 25 cents back when I return the can). Of course there is the 40 euro/month rent, but I haven’t been able to pay that in months because I haven’t been particularly inspired to write for money. Need to do that soon though, so I can pay the rent, and we can pay the last trash bill. At the moment my sole income is bottle return. I mean, the thought of having 100 euros a month is like this this huge crazy amount. If I had 100 euros a month I’d be RICH. Hahahaha.
The thing about having no money is that you need to put your energy into taking care of some things (food/heat/housing/etc) in some non-traditional ways, and if you work a full time job, you are simply too tired at the end of the day for that shit. It can be an either/or. Like if I worked all the time I wouldn’t have time to chop wood, and then I would have to just buy it already chopped which doesn’t make any sense at all because why would I work doing something else to pay for something I could do myself if I didn’t work?
I suppose that is one of the biggest paradoxes of capitalism. All these middle men built it. Middle men and women who end up equalling alienation from the things that keep us alive and warm and fed. With dumpster diving there is still a middle man, but there has to be some way to transition to growing my own food, and I refuse to work within the system. The system doesn’t offer me any other way to transition out of it because it doesn’t want me to and so says I’m not allowed and provides no options, and so what other choice is there but to make it happen by using the loopholes?
I have been thinking about this a lot lately because I am so tired of hearing people say that stealing or dumpster diving are parasitic (although of course, I don’t mind being called parasitic so much because parasites are an important part of nature and if humans think their “civilization” works any differently then they are sadly mistaken) and “just using the labor of others.” The thing is I don’t want any of those people to be laboring. I don’t want them making dvds and plastic and diapers and straws and working in retail stores and writing advertisements and all that shit. I want them all to quit and to help me plant my garden and for all those things to not even exist. I want to already know how to feed myself and build a house and I want there to be clean, drinkable water in the streams and the rivers and I want there to be clean air and healthy plants and animals everywhere, but those things have been stolen from us, and I’ll be damned if I don’t have the right to steal them back and to force the system to support me while I seek out that knowledge again, while I jack-hammer room for my vision of a beautiful world somewhere in the pavement. If I had to work to support myself while I did this, I wouldn’t have time to do it at all. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?”