Where I live is a non-conformist’s dream and those of normal societies worst nightmare. The very conveniences that so many take advantage of are those very one’s I do not possess. Over the course of a life as you gain and lose things sometimes you are allowed to rediscover what it’s like to appreciate the small things in our lives. Also in the manner that I live I have to have some motivation to fill the most basic needs which by and large is the supreme motivation for someone who is sad more oft than not. Sadness is for another time and place the main concept here is convenience or lack thereof.
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It’s hard to believe it’s been almost 3 years since my son left and then started his own life and when he did I was allowed to try to re-start mine. I have to say however I’ve not succeeded in any measurable scale. The last time I remember feeling a sense of ‘home’ was when I was very young and that feeling was so fleeting I have never given much thought as to how to make a home or exactly what a home is. Well that doesn’t sound quite right. I do not know what a home should feel like. I mean I watch television and movies. Countless scripts with varying definitions of home all for my own example but I cannot or rather do not have the ability to make such an environment happen. Actually this is not correct. I do remember home but it ended in such a disastrous way that for a moment I had left it in a place with other parts of my darkness.
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For the past year and some months I’ve lived in a friend’s driveway in an RV that is not roadworthy or for that matter quite as livable as most others. I have no stove or oven even though the conveniences’ are there they do not have fuel to make them work. I do not have a source to make hot water simply because I do not have running water. I do my cleaning and washing by collecting gallon jugs of water each day. I do not have a toilet, at least one that is totally usable. In the spring and summer I can go to the bathroom but only to pee. Anything else has to be taken care of in an alternative way. I have not had a bed in many years and at this point have found it uncomfortable to be on something so comfortable. I do not have any kind of soft furniture to sit or lounge on and for the last sixteen months have been ‘sitting’ actually I perch in somewhat of a Yoga fashion on a folding wood chair, the kind you would see at picnics and mass functions. The people that know me have seen this, that perch and it was only recently that I realized that for someone of my years the ability to make my limbs bend in such a way for sometimes a very long period (like now when I am writing) is a very good thing. I need to keep more good things in mind.
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I have no car, no means of transportation. I have no address, no registration of any kind, no medical insurance, no additional means of support other than what I get each month in a check. It is not enough with other obligations to currently live in an apartment in this area. Rents skyrocketed when the housing market bottomed out. Those families had to live somewhere and the realtors and landowners in the area did what any other good business would do, raised the roof on the values of the wanted products (apartments) and started to try to give houses away. But this is the stuff of society, this need for greed.
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I have gone weeks without speaking to anyone other than my neighbor simply because at this time there really is no one I could reach out too. I’ve no one left in my life now. Of course I can call my parents or my sons but that’s not what I’m talking about. I guess I’m speaking of basic interaction with people other than my family. I guess I am talking about friendships. Many friendships have I discarded over the years due to my eccentric manners and moods.
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So this is the lot, so to speak that I have left myself with. Finding now that I do not know home any longer and really have lost the abilities to interact with society. Nevertheless it is home that I still seek. That feeling I remember of warmth and comfort. A time of more noise that one person could stand and then the silence and stillness of a sleeping house.
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For too long I've messed with the wiring in my head. Now it shorts out more oft than not. But at my age I just sit and enjoy the sparks. RJM '07
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