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I’ve never seen a more disgusting  array of cluttered shit in my entire life, literally.  I’m living In a pile of rabbit shit, I’ve lived in some pretty interesting places over the course of this journey.  The abandoned clam plant was the most interesting and freaky, blood pans and the constant dripping of water with just enough weldimg masks spread around to make the perfect set for a horror film, there was even a Sickle hanging on the wall for a bit of added effect.  When the wind blew which it always dit it sounded like evil from the gates of hell banging on the walls.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining, not by a long shot.  I’m willing to go through anything and give up everything if I have to in order to follow my journey.  The boat, the bike, even this blog, these are all just things and things don’t matter.  I can assure you I’m not going to get a Cush book deal sitting on my ass surfing YouTube.  

My journey no matter how fucked up is authentic, even if only to me.  By day I’m the most kick ass club master in the universe and the vacationers love it and they love me because I treat each and every one like gold, even the assholes and there are many.

When I clock out I take off my neat and clean uniform, carefully roll it up and tuck it in my little bag and become a scum sucking homeless piece of shit hiding from the sheriff although a few more days of this and three hots and a cot will start sounding pretty fancy. I lay out my tiny sun shade from Sookie to cover the shit but by morning my 50 degree bag is soaked through from either the rain or heavy dew.  Cold is my constant companion but my life is quite civilized. I sip on a world class glass of wine, I have a few, chew on a nice and all natural peanut butter and jam sandwich on fancy bread and watch the sun set into the western void.

Podcasts on my little iPad keep my mind occupied while I peck out a bit of jiberish here and there, I’m twenty or thirty blogs posts behind, so much has transpired in my life in the last few weeks.  I’ll more than likely delete them all and let the cracks fill with time.  I write for the sake of writing and rarely post more than a smidge of the shit that is going on in my humble and satisfying experience.  The bay is calm and mostly empty, not many boaters this year spells the truth about the real economy in America, not the BS one you see with all the fake numbers flashing around on Wall Street, funny how fast we all forget what happens when the bankers are given free money and allowed to run rampant and unchecked.  Either way it doesn’t effect me one bit, I own my shit and have a pretty good reserve of lentils and multi vitimans. I’m content with what I have and what I don’t.  My freedom is in my complete lack of want  or needs.  

“I had to get a close-hand view of the misery and unhappiness of a man made world, before I reached the point where I could successfully revolt against it.” 

― Emmeline Pankhurst

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