Life perspective small and homeless

I keep in the back of my mind. looking up into the starry night sky, that half of the day we cannot see these other suns, because we are blinded by our own.
It's easy to forget how very small we are.
How very big is our solar system.
And how much exists beyond what we can see.

Having this on the front of our minds would only result in a lack of appreciation for the present.
It's like living somewhere for years and suddenly meeting someone who shows you a new part of town. Our perception is so comparatively narrow, too narrow to ever have a true view of the world.

It seems unjust to have us live in a world where it is impossible to explore every option. Where it is our habit or nature to find comfort in the familiar, yet constantly think of what it would be like if that familiarity were taken from us. Constant bombardment of advertisements scream that your life will be better, easier, more comfortable if you buy this thing. We extend this thought pattern to other aspects of our lives, often thinking that this job, this relationship, this vacation, will make us happier.

As I have been learning more about the modern nomadic lifestyle, it has become apparent that it is quite possible to live between the lines of our individualistic society. Ugly food is thrown away. Tattered buildings are left empty. Countless cars and trains move with plenty of room for extra passengers. "If you go hungry on the street, then you're stupid", as one traveler had put it. Cardboard signs have been known to make $100 a day, if you can find the right spot.

On Impermanence and the Ocean

I am only one wave
Flowing straightforward towards the shore
Never to reach to depths below
Before crashing

What I can imagine
I have only a glimpse
Creatures from another plane
Passing through never to stay

Occasional collision
Crests crossing paths
Yet always between two clones
What's alike so out of reach

With little mind and less control
And no land to call home
What can be done
Before I break

Finding shells
Shapeless creatures once called home
Only to leave it behind
Searching for another

For if we always stayed
With the same hard shell around us
How could we ever hope
To see the whole ocean

Between Homelessness and Autonomy

I often find myself thinking of the seemingly unlimited possibilities life holds. What is the best possible alternative to the many inevitable obligations that come with adulthood? Becoming part of this grand machine that is our society and our economy should not mean spending the majority of your productive life doing one given thing, not because you enjoy that thing, but in order to keep food in the cupboard and four protective walls around you. It should not mean tossing ambition aside for security. I dread the thought of working long hours at a mindless and unnecessary job just to keep alive. Such a world appears cold and unforgiving. Instead, I see my future place in this world as a collection of possibilities, beyond a life that is not really living, but surviving. I’m not sure if it is that many people are content in their cubicles, or they simply do not realize there are alternatives. In no way do I see myself as above the masses, but I often feel that I see things a bit differently.


My line of thinking is on par with such cheesy inspirational phrases repeated by professors and advertisements for non-traditional colleges. “Follow your passion!”, they say. “Live your dream” and my personal favorite of “Live to work, don’t work to live”. The message in the mantra being, that if you can find a way to get paid for what you love, it no longer feels like work. But, the barrier that immediately arises, is money. How does one sustain a living from making art, playing music, playing sports or acting. We've all heard of the starving artist, whom, at any given time, may or may not make enough money from their passion to feed themselves. These professions are highly competitive; success stories will leave you feeling inspired, but with the advice that you must work hard, and you must not give up.


But for the rest of us, who have hobbies, but may not be particularly talented, patient or determined enough to turn passion into profit, we give in. We compromise for jobs with little purpose, leaving us too exhausted to do much more than sleep in the bed in the house that we’re working so hard to live in. So many work long hours, selling a product that leaves even the customer with (in many cases) only superficial, material happiness. Whenever we do get a moment to ourselves, it becomes easier to fill it with short lived happiness that comes from buying new clothes, going out drinking, or watching people whose lives are much more fulfilled than our own on television. This grim and desolate description I've painted in my mind doesn't include the happiness that comes from relationships, having families, spiritual fulfillment, or the possibility that many people happen to love the things they work long hours selling, convincing others that for a fee, they will love the things too. But it does, in many ways, present the catch-22 of our modern world. The very situation I’m always looking for a way out of, in between the many mindless tasks that come with a minimum wage job in food service. 

Is Interest of the Ego?

There are some things that we like to such an extent that it defines us.
...Cannot understand how it happens to not be a thing loved by all.
Like sentence fragments without a subject, not sure who to include.
I wouldn't know how anyone personally expressed their identity within their own mind.
 Not without starting a conversation.
Momentary social interactions that feel slightly closer than casual always take me by surprise. It is within you to be social to some extent.
When we think about how we can know our own minds exist on an endless plane, but cannot escape the thoughts that echo through the stadium inside out head.
I feel like a soul.
 do not fall to pieces post-realization that ourselves are not the center of the universe

Why I Support GMOs

Genetically Modified Organisms (or GMOs) have been met with a large amount of controversy and resistance in recent years. The term itself has caused an image of evil frankenfoods in a battle with delicate mother nature. This black and white model of biotechnology is a direct result of inadequate scientific research, as well as a lack of scientific literacy of the general public. While there is little conclusive research on the ecological and health effects of GMOs, much of these negative opinions can be traced to the company Monsanto, whose business practices have resulted in numerous protests around the country. Presently, our global agricultural systems prove to in inefficient in their use of resources, causing harm to ourselves and global ecosystems. With a growing uncertainty of weather patterns caused by global climate change, many scientists are looking towards GMOs as a means of future food security. Given the much needed shift towards sustainable agricultural practices, genetic modification offers one solution in decreasing the amount of agricultural inputs currently in use, and even in increasing yields and nutritional quality of some crops. Furthermore, genetic engineering should not be seen as the only road towards sustainability. Efficient design techniques combined with technological innovation together can propel us towards sustainable agriculture.

A glimpse of my rebellious soul

There must be a certain degree of acceptance of society to be able to live happily in it. But what happens when you take the red pill and you find that the rabbit hole only gets deeper? It brings on a feeling of disconnect with the many who don't think to question everything they've ever known. And why should they? By some experience, it appears few of us have looked at our lives from an outside perspective. And while this brings about a certain level of enlightenment, you can never see your life or the workings of society in the same way.

But still, you carry on each day, thinking your life to be filled with what is necessary to get by, ups and downs, social interactions, only longing for some sort of escape from it all, as if there could be an alternative to this society. Small groups that think similarly must exist, but finding and connecting with them to a point where they accept you into their community is too impossible a task to feel realistic.

Theories of utopias conceptualized first in your mind, and second in the words of philosophers, economists, environmentalists, and celebrities which you never knew shared your point of view. Leadership without corruption, anarchism without violence, honest media, and trading acts of kindness. All elements of what I see as a better and entirely possible world.

I cannot stand the thought of working full time at something that gives me nothing but money in return. Being too exhausted to be autonomous, have my own thoughts, relax. Give into materialistic convenience and mindless entertainment. Become the perfect robotic consumer droning on as weeks run together and dreams drift out of reach.

I may have what appears to be a naive and unrealistic perspective of this better world. Though something tells me I'm not alone in this. This little corner of the world is all I've ever known. My home has become like a cage that occasionally is unlocked, only to remind me that I've outgrown this city that no longer brings me the comfort of familiarity. I have yet to earn my freedom. College is like a test I must pass to get out.

Then I must ask myself if this cage exists around me, or within me.
Getting out is not being uncomfortable looking strangers in the eye.
Getting out is not feeling like I'm watching my life instead of living it.
Getting out is feeling like I belong somewhere.
Getting out is adventure, natural beauty and falling in love.
Getting out is learning to support myself.
Getting out is feeling inspired by new experiences.
Getting out is finding people who also have a vision of a better world.

Cursive and the Matrix

When Sharpies are brand new and still have all their juices, they glide across paper cups in a way that makes me want to start writing in cursive. In third grade we were told that our days of lifting our pencils between letters would be gone forever. Even after the days when you believed you would one day live a gratifying life as an astronaut or a ballerina, surely your third grade teacher wasn't capable of lying. I always imagined that some children learned about dishonesty looking out a foggy window at the rain, realizing their father, who rarely even paid child support, wasn't going to show up as promised.

People will order diet soda and skinny lattes before they will opt for matcha. And of course, as an employee, its not quite appropriate to share a negative opinion of any product your employer sells. If it weren't for our internal desire to form bonds with other humans, most of our jobs could surely be done by a machine. It sometimes seems that there is little separating man from man-made.

I once believed that I must learn all I could about the technology which is now intertwined with our first-world culture. I felt that it could surpass and manipulate me if I did not grasp its inner-workings. Although it still seems suspicious that only a small percentage of people understand the technology used by millions every day, I have written it off as just another element of the Matrix.

The red pill slid swiftly down my throat and into my lungs. It allowed me to see fractals from the perspective of God. Knowledge can feel alienating. The very thing responsible for keeping children indoors on adderall is quite possibly the most useful tool for connecting misfits and educating a curiosity that is conditioned out of us in grade school.

Independance and Belonging

I'm beginning to realize there's more opportunities surrounding me than I ever would have thought. The only thing I feel is holding me back is that I lack the confidence and sociability to attend these events I'm strongly in support of, if I cannot find a friend willing to attend with me. It's stupid, because I know that within these occasions lies opportunity to connect with like-minded people, while supporting a cause I believe in. I have this constant worry consisting of an image of myself, alone in a crowd of people, alienated and unable to make social connections.

This is somewhat reflective of my detached Aquarius-like relationship with society, to which I feel I do not belong. Popular ideas often to not set well with me, such as in preference of  music and entertainment, my outlook on the traditional American diet and my political opinions. While I know I am not alone in feeling this way, I'm also unskilled in small-talk. It doesn't seem quite socially acceptable to go up to strangers who appear to be like-minded, and ask them their favorite band or their opinion on modern agriculture.

However, I know there are things in life I'm going to have to do alone, and as much as that scares me, I also recognize that its necessary to achieve my goals and for my soul to grow. There is joy in much more than human interaction, but the desire to belong is evolutionarily engrained into us. I just hope I can figure out how to satisfy both sides of my constantly conflicting mind.

My Future Self

Night time feels like empty space. I can fill it with all the little things I never have time to do during the day. I miss writing just to write. All I do lately never feels like its my own. Only reformulations of someone else's words. I sometimes think class pushes some good from my life. I also consider it may be the thing which I tell myself is only holding me back from my full potential temporarily. Although, I know the only cure for my feelings of emptiness, lack of substance in my life, is action.

A wise philosophy as I see it has to with visualization and an open mind. To be aware of the signs the universe is constantly giving you, responding to the energy you release. The idea that you have control over every little thing in your life is overwhelming. I'll sometimes imagine this pressure that isn't there, pressure to live my life to the fullest.
Though, if I can visualize myself in a time and place where I am, that will only mean that I am one step closer to obtaining this goal.

One thing that cannot be ignored within this imaginary life, is the vast difference in environment from where I am currently. In this visualization, I am laughing with some friends in a large cafe (or restaurant or co-op). The walls are wooden but painted yellow. We're in an urban area, down the street from a community garden where I spend a lot of my time. I may also sell produce at a local farmers market, write/take photos for an environmental magazine, and study human impact on ecosystems around the world. I travel to rural landscapes to collect data. I do not own a car (I may have sold it to pay off student loans). I am not in a relationship, but I have strong relationships with family and friends. I am confident. I live close with nature. Not too long before, I was on a service mission to a third world country, learning from and teaching locals principals of permaculture and sustainability.

This may be far fetched, silly, or oddly specific. It's a working progress.

Observations and Discoveries with Mushrooms

There is a wormhole in my memory of yesterday. We were a colorful bunch who had handed our minds to mother nature and our money to an acquaintance.

I was floating in a thought bubble.  Gazing into the lake I see small fish swimming about, having no concern with any world but their own. I am an amphibian, looking upon myself with wonder. I crawl from the water onto nearby rocks, and more of myself follow suit, communicating with the tiniest decomposing organism that is, I feel, also a part of me. The self which is complex and undiscovered, the subconscious seeping through.

I pull away, and continue my journey of observation and discovery. I find a shady seat between blades of grass and focus on the fluffiness scattered through the sky. Like a child awe-fully looking up through a sunroof, I saw the sky as an ocean with increasing depth as clouds became birds and puffer-fish moving steadily about. Something tells me many had seen this sight before, my own ancestors who lived only by the natural world, governed by seasons and the circle of life.

Overcome by thirst and interrupted by neighbors, I made it indoors, where thoughts manifested and I had turquoise visions of myself smiling in the future. A yellow cafe in Portland flashes through my mind. It isn't too far away, but also not close. I feel excited for future as well as content in this moment. Two of my closest friends and I made a cozy triangle with purple pillows. The room around us is a dome, outside of which nothing exists.
We're shortly joined by the rest of our group, who bring a box. This box is filled with the energy of us all. A yellow-tan shell speaks to me. It speaks to the octopus on my leg, tattooed there with henna just the day before. It stares up at me with its smeared eye, it's curvy tentacles seem wise and inviting. At this moment, I discover that the octopus must be my spirit animal.