💾 Archived View for tilde.team › ~smokey › logs › 2023-01-04-talking.gmi captured on 2023-01-29 at 03:36:20. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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So funny thing, these past few weeks Ive been trying to post a log but don't really have anything particular on my mind for a topic. That didn't stop me from trying, about half a dozen text files with two sentences written on them was made over the holdays. Just couldn't keep focus.
So, this is going to be a stream of conciousness post where I just kind of babble for a bit about whatever. No rewriting or correction either one shot one post.
Its a new year. I hope it goes better than the last two did.
I love weed. I love smoking it, I love eating it, I love smelling and touching and tasting it. Theres few things in life that make me actually happy and relaxed, few things that help blunt the blows of depression and hatred. It makes my life genunely better in every way (minus the lung tar from smoking, yuck) and I hate that Im at a point in life where I need to make the adult decision to give it up for now while I ramp up the job searching. Also buying the stuff all the time has been a hit to the finances so helping save coin is a plus.
Just scaled myself and im back down under 290, if only by a few fractions of a pound. That number is disgusting and I hate its still so high. I noticed that my weight will shoot right back up if i slip up even a little. Indulgence during the holidays did not do my diet any favors, fortuately I didn't gain any weight in the long run. Now its time to take the diet seriously again, non stop intermittent fasting until the number drops another few pounds or its going to just go right back up. I read somewhere that the body gets used to a set weight range that it will try to keep around. Fuck that we need to go harder. I want to be skinny again.
Would you believe me If i said once I lost a hundred pounds? only to gain it all back? Theres a genuine sadness in knowing that no matter how hard you work to improve yourself, to try your best to make a real change, and even if you do make that change, all that progress can be set back to square zero through one lapse in control, one episode of depression, one bad day. A sadness that you will never be able to overcome your own nature no matter how hard you try. And yet once were done wallowing in self pity for a litle while, we pick ourselves up and try and try and try again anyway, because there still is hope for a better future, and because giving up means you truly did fail yourself after all. The power of will, the ability to fight against yourself, to fight tooth and nail against what feels like the very force of deterministic fate, and win. Just for that little moment in time, you win just a little bit. The number goes down just a little bit. Hope is a beautiful feeling to behold.
I have not worked for two years now. Since the pandemic ive been living with my parents and boy oh boy am I done with it. The pandemic is more or less over, and its been over for a while now. Its time to get a life, which starts with making money again.
Tying into the "get some work" goal is the "get the fuck outta this toxic enviroment and start a new life by any means" goal. Its time for a change in scenery, a new mode of existance, and its time for me to grow up and take a fuckin chance, make a mistake, feel the force of nature, learn how to survive and become truly self sufficent.. I want to live a nomadic life style of travel, exploration and exitment.
Its funny how we unintentially create metaphorical almost literal prisons through the repetative cyclic habits and thought patterns and the weight of responsibilities and social obligations. If all you do is work a 9-5, come home, and do it again the next day, then thats no different from a self made prison. When life becomes the same day in and day out for long enough it becomes indistingushable from a waking death. I speak from more experience than you could ever know. I say No more of my own self made prison. I want to remember what its like to feel free, truly free. Its been years since Shannondoah. Too many years.
I have no responsibilities or relationships holding me down and I already live a very minimal life style owning very few things. I never really had any desire for material wealth or fancy yuppy things, just living a life full of broad experiences while enjoying the little things like dope wine and music on my own time.
Professionally/work wise im in a wierd spot. I don't want to work in industry anymore. Ive had my fill of commuting hours a day to work 12 hour shifts from 5am to 5pm in loud, toxic industrial plants. Ive had my fill of the nasty hateful personality archetypes electricians and mechanics seem so prone to. Im tired of working my ass off potentially risking limb and life in a dangerous trade making less than a warehouse worker while having vastly more responsibilities that just compound the pressure further.
A big reason Ive been so reluctant to get back into work is just how bad my last job fucked me up mentally. A year of hellish conditions and shitty coworkers and not doing anything but work work work made me so depressed that I had the first real mental breakdown in years. Luckily I quit just as soon as the pandemic kicked off so it was a good cover excuse to explain the delay in work. But I know that im on thin ice now, Soon enough hiring managers are gonna take a look at the length of time I havent worked and get sketched out.
I think i have learned from my mistakes though. My mental health is more important to me than ever now that I know it has a breaking point. I was conditioned to think that work is the most important thing and that my self worth is intrinsically tied to how much money I was bringing in. How useful I was to the company. Bullshit, all bullshit. I would rather make very little and live on the bare minimum if it meant I was happy and content with the job and my free life.
I also realize now that quitting isn't shameful. Don't even worry about the 2 week notices. In the past I had been soo reluctant to quit shitty jobs because every time I do get the courage to quit, my bipolar parent always had to make a big emotional screaming match out of it when they eventually find out. Like literally throwing a temper tantrum over it telling me how I "cant quit" for this bullshit excuse or that. Mental illness is a bitch. being a child of two severely mentally ill people now suffering from oncoming dementia is a mega bitch.
I suppose theres some general blame with them being a product of their time, its common for boomers to have that toxic mindset that you need to kill yourself working and never stop or complain otherwise your a worthless lazy piece of trash.
Im grateful to Reddits r/antiwork board, made me realize these feelings and conflictions aren't just me, and my generation in general seems to be fed up with the "be an unquestioning worker slave for the rest of your life with no benifits, hopes of pension, or bright future to work towards only to die of something fucked just a few years after retirement" Im not lazy, im tired of killing myself physically and emotionally to try and survive against a system that threw me overboard before I was a drip of cum in my dads ballsack.
The days of working a part time job at sears with full benefits to pay off a morgage on a house? Its over. You won't even be able to buy property in america soon enough, its all being bought up by chinese shell investment companies so they can carale us into a subscription/rent based economy forevermore.
The economy is fucked, the political climate is unraveling at the seams, my country was bought, sold, and paid for by its enemies decades ago, and nobody knows what problem tomorrow will bring while the whole system rots and suffocates everyone living under it. . People like Luke Smith punch down at "podlifers" because theyre satisfied living in mobile "pods" instead of paying decades of debt/morgage on a piece of property that the government can legally take from you at any point for any reason. Luke came off as such a smug prideful douchbag with that "got mine, haha pod losers just get better standards" is such a sickening childish attitude it made me instantly stop watching his vids. More and more people every day are finding themselves with two options left to make through no fault of their own, is living in a metal box on wheels or a cardboard one on the sidewalk. I know which option id take. Besides that, if a person is happy and satisfied with how they live their life who are you or I to belittle them just because of the kind of space they sleep in.
Van, sailboat, camper, bus, hot air baloon, it doesn't fucking matter at this point. But vanlife is looking more likely, my dad has made the very merciful offering to transfer the title of the chevy astro van we have once I get a job and am able to pay the insurance which is very generous of him if that deal ever goes through. The van isn't anything special and its not perfect but you don't look a gift house in the door. or something like that. part of the vanlife goal will be slowly fitting it as a living space. Not tearing out anything mind you just putting essential things in smartly.
I have been doing a lot of research on nomadic living these past few years learning how vandwellers, sailboaters and general outdoorsman types cope with the bare basics in minimal livingspace. Been inspired by so many people and their courage to just get out there and risk it. Its something I know i actually want to to, its not an idea thats passing out of my subconcious any time soon. In fact the desire is growing by the day.
You would be suprised how little you actually need to keep yourself fed, warm, clean, and safe/comfortable if you are just willing to reevaluate actual needs from convient wants and use simpler techology with a bit of clever creativity to fill in the gaps of convinence where possible.
Money, much like alcohol, is the cause of and solution to most of lifes problems. Can't live with it, cant live without it. If I had things my way I'd throw the concept of money right out the window and go full on barter economy. I would happily learn some artisian skillsets like leatherworking, crocheting, woodworking, or painting, grind the shit out of them runescape style, and just trade people my hand made things for food water and whatever else.
Of course all thats a hippys pipe dream while on mushrooms loudly singing cuumbiyah. In the real world, people, especially the lower and middle class, are conditioned to care more about the digital number in their bank account more than physical quantifiable wealth assets they can trade for survival stuff when shit hits the fan.
Irrational as it is, the representation of wealth through a number on a ledger is more important than actually having physical wealth in tangable assets. These same people fail to understand that their money looses value just sitting in the bank through inflation at about 2% a year (definitely more now that the recession hit and covid relief debt needs to be paid back)
Where was I going with this tangent? Nowhere. Moving on.
So, like it or not we live in a society and need at least a bit of money to get by. my mind has been chugging away at thoughts of how to make a passive income or at least land some sort of work from home/van type gig.
I have a guilty admittance, as a kid I wanted to be a youtuber. Yes I too was one of those kids who dreamt of being the next big shot, How? by making unedited minecraft videos of course.
As an adult theres still some spark of desire to create things and share them. This capsule is the first real manifestation of that will. Of course I would like to someday see a little bit of profit by way of my creations via donation but don't feel ive earned the right to take strangers money especially without giving anything or providing a service in return. So, I fantasize a day where I do a blogging type video series on my van living or whatever and share my trials and sucesses, make easy to understand guides distilling what ive learned, and do more focused essays adapting the topics of some of my best glogs. At that point I would feel not-scummy for opening up a kofi or patreon or something.
Donating plasma is a suprisingly good way to bring in some extra income, atleast here in america. If you do it right and build up consistentsy, its an extra 400$ a month income for a few hours of time. Once I get transitioned into the vanlife this may be a main method of income.
When i was a kid, there used to be a food truck parked at a local home depot. It mostly sold hotdogs pretzels and soft drinks but thats okay cause they made bank even with a limited selection. There was also an icecream truck that came around my neighborhood and made bank from us kids on hot summer days. The home depot food truck was unique, never saw anything like it again. The guy must have struck a deal with the owners of that particular home depot. It took balls to even reach out to strike that kind of deal most people would go "lol like a mega corpo would ever let me do that" well sometimes the only way to know for sure is by trying and seeing what happens.
I think about the ice cream truck more than I should when ideas of buisness come up. The guy obviously didn't get rich off selling spongebob popsicles and rainbow cones. But perhaps he didn't need to be rich. When we (neighborhood kids) heard the chime of the ice cream truck it was like an instant mood enhancer. I have fond memories of excitedly rushing home and begging my parents or scrounging for the 1~3$ for a ice cream.
His buisness probabably wasn't profitable, but it made countless children just a little bit happier, added something positive to their childhood experiences just that little bit more. Where I live now, there are no ice cream trucks during the summer, there is no nostalgia inducing jingle acting as a siren call for heat exausted and sugar deprived. There are no deformed nightmare spongebob popsicles or rainbow cones. That experience is lost on so many, even if its ultimately inconsiquential and easy to overlook. Do you have fond memories of an ice cream truck? is there one where you live now?
One last thing about ice cream selling, one of the Trailer Park Boys episodes had the boys sell homemade liquor in a park by hiding them in these wierd bicycle-fridge hybrid ice cream vehicles. Never knew they existed until that scene, i could totally see myself selling some icecream in a park with one of those things :P
You ever ate at a subway before? You know how you can pick and choose what toppings and ingredients and types of bread that makes your sandwhich, any you watch the sub maker put the sandwich together and toast it, and it kind of makes you feel more involved with the process?
A while ago i was watching You Suck At Cooking and he had a recipe for tortilla pizzas, well didn't have tortillas but pita rolls worked just as great! anyways followed the recipe made the personal pizza, and it was GODLIKE, pita pizzas are all topping all flavor no crust. Also tasted a pesto base pizza instead of tomato sauce base for the first time with those, and I LOVE PESTO PIZZA NOW!!! Have you ever had the option to substitute pesto in your pizza at a pizzaria? I havent.
Okay now, crishendoing into the idea here: imagine that same layout of a subway assembly line, but with personal pizzas instead of subs. The exact same process of letting people pick what they want how they want it from the sauce base, kinds of cheese, and toppings and making your own personal pizza for 5$ (5 dollar, 5 dollar 5 dollar foot diameter.. okay not as catchy as 5$ foot long). They take only minutes to toast like a sub does, the size is perfect for one person, and 5$ is a great deal for a meal in todays economy.
I swear to you that 'personal pizzas 2 go' is a sleeper hit and you cant convince me otherwise!