LETTERS FROM A DESTITUTE YOUTH (#2)

It’s been a LONG time since I posted the first article of this series. I had every intention of going into detail on each aspect of the initial article. The content included things like my thoughts on money and overcoming the illusions in society to continually achieve some sort of social status. I got sidetracked from doing so, because my life is prone to unpredictable changes with how I’ve chosen to live. I’ve lived in two different households since writing the first, each completely different than the last. Life on the fringe sometimes feels out of control, like my entire life is in someone else’s hands. I can suffer for months for eating the wrong thing in the fridge. Agreements can fade, because all must be a growth of wealth for others to keep us in their lives. I am a product, much like everything else.

I am often something taken home, used for a while, and eventually thrown away. It can sometimes feel awful and send me nearly spiraling down a crazy path again, but so far I’ve endured. People who follow my work or my presence on the internet are often curious why I’m still here in the “podunk bible-belt town” of Joplin, Missouri. The answer is mostly that I’ve preferred to endure it as an attempt to turn the life I want to live into something to help others at a larger scale. At another level, I feel as though I haven’t been prepared.

The lifestyle I plan to live I’ve translated into a journalism/ documentary project has undergone crazy changes. It has simplified. Everything about it is different because of things finally changing in me. It seems the more illusions of attachment I can overcome: the less I need externally to accomplish my goals. I am relieved of all its responsibility at the same time, because I am not completely attached to it all. This is not to say I don’t care. What I mean is it might not get funding to be a bigger project. It might in the end be something only for me and a smaller backpack. An attachment to such a project when the only thing I want it to be is selfless means the fame and accolades mean more to me, but they don’t. I gave up on that junk forever ago. It has been hard to shape such a thing to seek funding that didn’t feel strange, however.

I’ve constantly been looking for ways to cut costs or make up for any damage caused by my actions. Money is dirty to me, no matter how I look at it. Other people look at it and see something they want. When I look at it, I see the global blood splattered all over both it and the product they wish to purchase. Like anything on the planet, money is just energy. It could be a good thing, but it goes through so much before it reaches each of us in the current state of the world there is no denying everyone in a fragmentary sense is responsible for so much violence in this world. Be it in promoting one side of a duality or spending money. It can be used against itself though, as money can be used to get ourselves in a position to never need it again. Such is what I hope to accomplish with any help I might obtain.

While I’ve been working on writings and planning this project, or doing the odd favor for others in this time, what I’ve spent most of my time on is deconstructing my attachments. They begin within me, from something forced onto me by others and turned into habitual actions. You can file most habitual things under attachment: smoking, drinking, constant seeking of some fulfillment through sex or relationship, hate speech, being argumentative, or violent. All of this is likely considered simply the way of life, because it’s what has always been common in the world. All of it begins at thoughts that give life to attachment, each creating a prejudice based on the past or influences around us. I often felt like a hypocrite to see and understand the harm behind such habits, but still I chased after them. Like quitting out of pure willpower and ATTACHING to the IDEA of quitting. Never understanding why I failed so often or why a life free of such chains seems for many people to be a constant, at times painful, battle.

Then everything began to change.

I recognized myself as something underneath the concepts of thinking. I recognized thinking as extensions of feelings in bodily functions or habits the mind has mistaken as needs in their repetition. There is no judgment or reason to pursue accomplishment. Everyone is the same underneath all the preconceived notions. I no longer feel disconnected from everything, but recognize the intricate interconnectivity of everything. I’ve found what lies underneath is in everything. We are always the same thing in this universe, regardless of the expressed form.

Experiencing such is the only real love.

Sometimes I get pulled by something. A bad mood and a comment have sent me spiraling into an imagination filled with my previous actions. Sometimes in the recent past this has made me lose sight of these discoveries, but I haven’t in a long time now. My foundation finally feels solid. I might have a project in the works, but neither it nor the satisfaction of writing books brought the truth I was looking for. It all came from within and now no matter how constant the chaos, or superficial the surrounding actions of others in my life: I’m always free.

10922507_789489821139400_1506541224570704290_n

(P.S: This will be my last post under the name, Laramore Black. What little work I did have published will soon be re-released as Nobody Important with lots of other stuff. Rucksack Revolution is the name of my upcoming project, in which I plan to travel the country by bike to every commune. Thanks for reading!)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s