EMBARKING UPON A PILGRIMAGE AND SPIRITUAL QUESTAlternate Title: Hunger Games IRL?
I'm fucking sick and tired of bumming around this town. I shared some of my narrative of what it is like living on the streets and then a few folks provided me with encouragement and emotional even a little bit of financial support (+Thomas Power +Jason Nunnelley +Maher Khalifa +John Kellden +Jasmine St. John +Robert Anderson +Robert Scoble +David Amerland
) and I even was offered the possibility of work and guest blogging or sorts I believe. I have a whole bunch of content that I want to write in a book, but I never am far enough away from trying to find food/shelter/safety to do this.
I had obtained a laptop, phone, some decent clothes, a jacket/gloves/winter gear, and a really
nice bicycle... and then someone punked me out for it cracked my skull, stabbed me, and left me in an alley in the snow nearly naked (bastards even took my fucking nikes!) for dead. I was dying literally... and the only thing I was regretting is that I didn't see Sabrina again before I checked out.
the real audacity is that after I walked barefoot in the snow to his house once the hospital patched me up to the point where I was more likely to die from hypothermia than my wounds - my fucking dad was so upset about the fact that I fought valiantly instead of meekly being relieved of my worldly possessions... so he called the fucking cops on me and I caught a case. talk about fucking losing for losing let alone winning, amirite?
seriously, my one dying wish and regret was just to see her face one more time. obviously nobody really trusts me with anything or has faith and confidence in me to the point of making my bullshit their own (the true definition of love if y'all were unaware is making someone else's problems your own and this is what Christ commands [not asks us politely] to do. in the brothers Karamazov what is it that ivan said, that the only real hell is living a life without love?) so I am going to make myself like the elder Karamazov and put myself on parade as a buffoon for the whole world.
I am going to ride my fucking shitty broken ass wobbly missing spokes bicycle with my one change of clothes and no survival gear to san diego because when I got out of jail the other day - just like fucking Elijah - God commanded me to go. this isn't just about seeing her again because I always wanted to do that for years and God never commanded me to do that before. I want to spread the gospel and be of as much service along the way to people as I can. obviously the world hates on me enough that ministry/evangelism/mission work is what my purpose is.
"Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Savior, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen." Jude 24-25
well all the world has for me is fault, shame, and blame. so I figure if I just do this for the sake of doing it and don't share the story with anyone or allow them to participate... well, it would be a shame if I freeze to death or get ran over by some car and nobody knows about my life and witness. at the same time if I had $10,000 at my disposal for the trip it wouldn't be too exciting or perilous or even adventurous knowing I can just go to a mcdonalds or a motel when shit gets hairy. so I am offering (not suggesting or demanding or even remotely expecting) to have you guys make this like the hunger games and be the world's most real reality tv show.
that's right. all I need past what I have is some phones/tablets/laptops/google glass/whatthefuckever so I can broadcast my adventure live and in real time. this also means that you can become a part of my adventure by suggesting that I go places or do things that either you have enjoyed or think I might enjoy or even think would be funny.
weirdly enough the most money I ever have made as a bum was by flying a sign "I bet you fuckers can't hit me with a quarter!" to which I made $28 in an hour or so. most nights when I was just singing songs with a guitar I would only make $5-10 for hours of 'busking'. I think the lesson here is that people love a clown or buffoon more than someone genuinely trying to tell a story or be of benefit.
I don't know what I am going to find on my adventure and I'm pretty fucking sure that I'm going to be so tore back by the end of it that Sabby will want nothing to do with me.... but I don't want to die without seeing her and without doing anything worth dying for. all I did to get beaten to death was have some shit someone else wanted enough to brutally beat me for.
I'm going to ride from Spokane Washington to Portland Oregon, and then take the 101 all the way down. it would be nice if some folks could send me some gear or paypal me a few bucks so I can get outfitted for my journey... but im going to do it even if nobody wants to support this endeavor for either the validity of my purpose, sympathy for my goals, pity for the fact I have nothing and nobody, or morbid curiosity to see what 'rock bottom' really is like.
I really hope that you ignore all of those reasons and appeal to your sense of adventure as no offense +Robert Anderson
I think is the only one who has more epic adventure stories than the one imma going to embark upon. love you guys and now at least y'all know why I disappeared from the internet AGAIN
but im sick and tired of the same crap and im going to follow this pioneering/adventurous/insane spirit wherever it takes me because nothing I can find on the road can be worse than the stagnation and dissipation I have been stuck in for far too long.