Instead, I got my morning vices of coffee and cigarettes– real cigarettes for the time being, since I found two packs at Elijah's grandparents' house and can't afford the e cigs– and headed here to continue to pursue my dreams. My other vice is alcohol, of course, although I've been able to drink again since Tuesday and have had only one beer due to being so broke. I plan to hit the bottle, no question. I found half-gallons at the grandparents' as well, though perhaps E is wise to abscond them from me, considering.
I told him today, "I would rather live in a trailer the rest of my life and be recognized by people as a writer than work my life away selling vacuum cleaners just to live in a fancy condo." True.
(Though the way I encode everyone in this blog, you'd never guess I had a quest for recognition.)
So I turned down an opportunity to make money at a mainstream job that to many would be considered a good day's work for salaried pay. I'd rather be a starving artist. This is who I am. I was meant for this life. I'm the quiet person at the library or your local coffee shop who writes for a living and sits for hours lost in thought.
E promised today to unconditionally support me in my quest. This officially makes him everything I've been looking for and didn't yet know it. I hope someday I can give him everything in return.
One thing that he's decided he wants that I can help him with is to reach out to people with his incredible spirit. I just texted him this:
I completely support you has a spiritual/sexual healer. You are amazing and have a unique gift to give. I didn't realize until now how much you've already healed me. I will love you forever for it.
This is one of those things that I didn't recognize until I wrote it out just then. It's getting to be a spring day and I feel good. I needed to change my mindset from wanting him to quest for wealth and truly seeing the greater path that he is on. I can and will be there for him in this. But it is his, he is the healer. I am the artist.
Mmmm, I need whiskey...
Making the conscious decision to not sell vacuum cleaners this morning put my mind into a completely different place. A higher place.
I miss Uriah. E also told me that, despite the 'closed container', he is completely at ease with my continuing to see U and that he (E) need not be present for that. Uriah is grandfathered in, you might say. I'm so glad to hear that. I love Uriah also. I suppose one could put labels like 'polyamory' on it, but in reality, this is just who I am and I sort of dislike the label. My dream of a triad with two bisexual men is not out of the question, either.
This is the spiritual jackpot. To hell with money, then. To hell with anything and everything else that is a distraction. The sun is shining through the third-floor library windows. There is so much joy in life, just as there is so much pain. Such thoughts are peaceful.
A year ago today, I reached a pivot point after breaking up with Ezekiel. He is pivotal to the crossroads I'm in now in so many ways, too. The subject of Ezekiel is a complex one. Suffice it to say, he is in my heart always and we both still get joy from the connection we made and then tried masochistically to destroy. We nearly needed to destroy it because we couldn't handle it and still travel a terrestrial course. Perhaps he and I will meet again when he is further along in his spiritual path, but I doubt it. Certainly that path was put on hold for his PhD and prolly forever. It took a while but I'm happy my spirit was too great and vibrant to be sucked dry by Immunology and by Vermont. In connecting with Elijah, I'm reminded of the feeling Ezekiel, though, and it no longer makes me sad, only content.
The regulars are here in the Map Room with me. Libraries are great for forming relationships with the other regulars in which words never need be exchanged. I sometimes wonder what these people do here all day. I get bits of their life stories. This has been the case for me at every library I've ever frequented.
So much for my pretentious condo association. I belong with the artists eeking it out in NoPo. I fought it mentally to the point where I almost sold vacuum cleaners and nearly reached a point-of-no-return. But I didn't go there, and I am so grateful that I don't have to. I embrace life so much.
Thank you Portland, for making it all possible.
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