Fate knocked on my door, with the same uncomfortable rhythm like police demanding to enter. A few weeks ago I found out that our house will be put on the market, and today the sign erected in front of it brings this unpleasant reality home: I need to move on.
Before you calls me a whinging loser, take into consideration that I chose some time ago to unplug as much as possible from the matrix. I don't do paper-based things anymore, there's no more document proving my "right" to exist, no more bank account, nothing anyone who doesn't know me would convince them that I'm willing and maybe capable to come up with rent. Which I used to pay in cash, for the last few years.
In comparison to the corporate career I had in front of me some decades ago, my life has become more real, but not easier. On the good side of things, I no longer support the system of self-destruction as much as I used to. While I still can't avoid paying tribute to the mafia running this country in the form of taxes for everyone I consume, consuming less meant the mafia has less to give to their associates. The amount of GST I pay might not even cover the amount of money the government spends on surveilling me.
Living self-sufficient in an urban environment is impossible. Rent, rates, food mean I needed to generate income to survive. My gardening/foraging skills aren't sufficient to feed myself without money, although I encountered at least some ways to cut some corners. Money is our god, just like the title of this blog suggests, but I stopped worshipping long ago. I generated maybe the same amount of money, or even less, as a dole recipient in the last few years, hardly ever going hungry, and luckily never needing to sleep rough.
The most expensive time I experienced since I went on this path was when I was living in a forest in a tent. Having no clue how to hunt, no access to water, no fertile land to grow anything meant a 100 km round trip in a car just to get food and water. I couldn't even store food without a fridge, and hanging out mostly on my own drove me slightly insane. We're social beings, and while living as a hermit works out for a while, it just doesn't work for me.
I feel tired. Regular avenues to seek support simply don't exist for someone like me. I want to go back to a simple life, hell, I live a fairly simple life. Eat, work, sleep. Being in the matrix allowed me to do this in luxurious way, but it meant also supporting the system of self-destruction which is modern society.
Where to go from here? I don't know. When I saw my former homeless neighbour, who was living in her car, last week, I was shocked to see her deteriorating so much. I can't see myself walking aimlessly through the streets, carrying all my belongings with me, finding a sheltered corner to survive another night, living off the scraps charity offers to keep an unwanted soul alive. Suicide seems like a noble choice in comparison.
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