disconnect

used to be
you had to go to 
the fields
hunt
in the woods
trade
with a neighbor
if you wanted to eat
you worked together
with your tribe
your clan
your society 
to make sure everyone ate
now
now it’s drive up
drive through
don’t stop
don’t even get out of your car
ever
fast food, liquor, now your groceries
all
available
no eye contact
required
don’t look up from 
your phone
…do you call this progress?
because
to me
it feels like
deterioration
a breakdown
a disconnect
an 
utter
collapse.

this might not be a popular opinion. okay, obviously not a popular opinion. but it is mine. i couldn’t even draw myself holding a smartphone i hate them so much. that is not me. someone else there. 
i hate drive-throughs almost as much as i hate smartphones. i get my ass out of the car, unpack the minions, walk in, and do what i need to do. 
am i a martyr? 
some might say i am being a martyr.
fuck that 
i am trying to retain human contact because i think community is dire to our survival. i don’t even like people…and i have serious social anxiety. 
but i get the fuck out of my car and talk to people and make eye contact.

because what happens if we lose even more of our connection to each other?  

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tumbling down

i have lived my life
like falling down
a flight
of stairs
except
of course
i was totally pushed
or
at least
tripped
before i fell into my own life
half-assed
&
so totally
not
paying attention
hitting each step
as i fell
(i’m picturing one of those
circular, iron
staircases
you know
one with lots & lots & lots
of unyielding steps)
now i am
sprawled
at the bottom
of my own
life
…fuck it
time to get up
i guess.

so i was living in madison, wisconsin, attending UW madison, studying art & writing. i was pretty happy…except dusty didn’t like to work & did like to have girlfriends on the side.
i was having trouble affording rent in madison…and was losing myself to my fucked up relationship with dusty.
i told dusty he could choose between his girlfriend & me, the mother of his children & his supposed soul mate.
i told him i would leave madison if he did not choose me.
he did not choose me.
so as 2015 ended & 2016 began, i packed up the minions & moved 2 hours north to rent from a friend in manitowoc, wisconsin. there i started to get involved with the grocery co-op they were starting as well as getting involved in the local farm to school program & the local community garden. i felt like i was finally finding the community i wanted to be in.
six months in, after learning that my parent’s place was available to me, my “friend” kicked me out of her house. i still don’t know why. but dusty (who since i had left him all of a sudden decided to choose me) was on board with moving to illinois and had me convinced that the end of times was coming with the 2016 election. did i want to homestead–or was it a reaction to an unstable economy & society? a paranoia that dusty fed every chance he got….
did i want to move to rural illinois…or did dusty? he came with me and lived here for six months before i kicked him out.

now i’m here alone with a yard full of animals that cost more than they benefit…with a house that is too much for me to care for…with no support system or community in sight….

and i’m pissed off.
i thought i was doing what i wanted to do, but looking back, i think i did what i had to do as well as what other people wanted me to do.
and i’m pissed off.

i know that i can live like this if i have to (butchering my own meat & raising livestock.) and i do want to continue with living sustainably and continue growing my own food, but i was doing that when i lived in town & had access to a community. i don’t have to isolate myself to bumfuck illinois to do that.

crap.
dusty always was good at covertly isolating me. now i’m locked in some fucking tower waiting for him to rescue me?
fuck that bullshit.
i’m building a ladder.

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