Who'da thunk it?

  All those years on the road I craved for a life made up of makin’ the best of the daily grind. You know, a house, a nice car and a little honey that I treated like a normal workin’ stiff. Day in and day out the repetition is the thing that keeps you grounded. Wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night always knowing that the income would be there and your ritualistic goings on would always be unwavering and reliable. I tried it…it didn’t stick…never does.

  I think that my life is about as repetitious as it ever will be, but I can’t normal it up, it’s not the way that I’m wired.  Resting stagnant really brings me down, I start looking at how all the other ‘straights’ are doing and it just depresses the Hell out of me. Depression is bad, so I’m doin’ my own thing…it’s either that or a hollow point to the roof of my mouth. That’s a taste you only enjoy once…I ain’t ready, give me some throttle and a reason to be out there and I’m set.

  At my age I’m done having other people tell me how it should be. I’ve listened for years and everybody has an opinion, tried to teach me life lessons, put in their two cents and adjust my course, the fact of the matter is it’s MY course so now you can just fuck off!

  I started down this path and you don’t have a say I it. Just leave me alone and let me try to make it all work. Right or wrong I am capable of connecting he dots between the birth canal to my big dirt nap. Everything in between is mine…you where given your time to suck up the air so why don’t you concentrate on that and let me fuck up any way I want. My happiness probably ain’t the same as yours anyway.

  I don’t know if there is any rhyme or reason for the things I have done in the past and do in the future but once everybody stops yammering on and on about what I am supposed to do I can kick back, smack dab in the middle of my life and things are pretty cool until somebody tells me it sucks…I’m done listening. I like what it looks like from the inside looking out and if you don’t then stop hangin’ your dirty socks on my tree and try smellin’ them yourself.

  What I have created is a slow moving train wreck that falls off the tracks every now and again but it always seems to start moving  with adjustments. It ain’t perfect but chances have been taken and hassles came up but overall it hasn’t been a bad trip if you would just stop telling me otherwise.  The chances are the wet pussy in the awkward looking woman that I call my time on Earth. I like pussy so I’ll keep living life out on a limb. Anything else is just dry fucking!

  It seems that I have had a lifetime of never having a realistic view of life. How can that be? If you spend a lifetime doing the unrealistic doesn’t that make it realistic? What the fuck is an unrealistic view of life? Get a job, marry someone out of obligation, raise a couple of kids and then die having your offspring describe you as an unhappy old bastard? Sounds pretty shitty to me, but then again I’m unrealistic.

  At this point the thing I qualify as a good life is ridiculously simple. I own little, require less and if left alone I am content. However if I did follow the advice I have turned a deaf ear to years ago I would have lost that whole acceptable existence and wound up here just the same. That scenario would make what I have horrible instead of a situation that makes me smile in its lack of complications. I just climbed the ladder to success high enough to make me happy, not climbing it in the pursuit of something more. How much do you really need?

  I have on more then one occasion been asked, “…what made you decide to give it all up for what you have now?” Give it all up, I never had it and that made all the difference.

  I live this way because I love what I do, to gain anymore of lifes creature comforts I would have to turn my back on the things that I love. Mainly painting and riding my bike whenever I want and for as long as I want as long as my basic necessities are met. But then again my life is nothing but the basic necessities.

   I survived the winter in a Winnebago and came out the other side with the ol’ piece of shit in better shape than when I first called it home. My bike is all runnin’ hard and ready to go. The studio is still hangin’ on. My health is pretty good and the dog is happy with one eye.

  So I’m just sittin’ on the stoop  waterin’ my lawn and thinkin’ about just bein’ a guy with a sleeping bag, ridin’ his bike this summer. It feels good and I’m as happy as I have ever been. Today it feels like I know what I am doin’. This is the shit that dreams are made of.You now can go back to eating shit and dying.”GTP”