A Million Miles Away
Why didn’t I bring a folding bike, ffs.
Long term goals are the hardest things for me. I chose to not be a part of popular society for a very long time, and for good reasons. When I was kicked out of high school, I to this day think of the stupidity of the school system and it’s councilors, or at least my councilor. I had a remedial 9th grade english class, which was followed by a 12 grade gifted and talented english class. I was kicked out of school because I was tardy to a class three times in three months, even though I attended school the first day drunker than a sailor on his first shore leave. I got kicked out, and I walked the distance to the local community college, just about a thousand meters from my high school, and signed up for the GED. I passed the GED in the top .5%, I was told I missed two questions. I never went back to normal society from then because really, what was the use? Given homework, I would turn it in that day, so I could be free of homework, and immediately I was espoused as a cheater, because no one could write four pages of a ballad in iambic pentameter in one hour, without any mistakes. Given math work, I would do it in my head, and be told, it doesn’t count unless you show your work… which, since it was all mental, was impossible. I was volunteered by a whole class for a particular part in a play, only to be humiliated and insulted by the teacher who could not believe I would show up for practice. Over and over again, called the bad kid because I was from a poor neighborhood, and because I chose the freedom of punk to voice my ideas and opinions. Teachers would belay me to the principle, who actually had a chair with my name on the back of it, so I would “always have a seat.” I would definitely NOT voluntarily join the college side of such backwards and fearful education, and to this day, as far as america is concerned, I consider it the country of the halfwit.
The choice is not one I regret. I have had fantastic times and freedoms that other people have envied. I lived a free life, did what I wanted, and came to terms with myself in ways most people will never understand. I am egalitarian and spiritual, forward thinking and self-taught. I can hold my own in most arguments, and I do mean arguments, debates, not fights, although I have not really ever lost a fight either. I walk this world with a solid step, built of my own meter, and fear very little. I do sense however, I have little patience at the moment for the long return. I am not impatient, I tend to be the most patient person in the room, but for long-term ideas, I have had little use for them or had any planning that works around it. I see it now as a poor weakness, not in the sense of economy, because I have very little faith in a monetary system, but as being able to hold out for an extended period of time. Since I have lived most of my life alone, I have never planned anything that I couldn’t see getting within 4-5 months. Now however, I am being taught a new lesson, and that excites me. I need the knowledge to last a good long time, I need to be able to plan things around years and not days, months and not weeks. Writing is looking like my first and last bastion of support mentally in this new waiting game.
I find that if I write, I am doing things with my time, while waiting. I hate tv for the most part, music in the modern sense is something I can live without, and I have no concern about staying caught up on anything but advances in science and freedom. So when I am not working, I can write, and otherwise keep my clock ticking. I find it is strange, used to be I hated exercise for so long and now that I want to do it, I have to tear myself from the keyboard so I can get healthier. I want to read more as well, but damn if I don’t end up just wanting to write. Ah well, the real problem is that I have to wait nine long months until I can move to Oz and get married, I want to do it NOW. I am so impatient to hold hands with my beloved, to kiss her, to tell her, “I love you,” while I look into her eyes, that is the one thing I really do not have the patience for. I need to lose myself in writing so I do not think about it. I wait for that time to pass, and once I can be by her side, then I will have a lot of time to write, and even more motivation to do so than I have now. Yet I still get impatient, even while typing out more words.
I am thinking of using graph paper, and filling in the squares one by one, so I can see the time moving for me. Have you ever seen the sun move? I have never been by a shadow long enough and clear enough to actually see the sun move, a passage of time we all know happens, but rarely see. Sure I can tell the shadows have gotten longer, the day is less bright, or the night is deepening, but I can not measure it with action, I can not see a line of a shadow move, or the encroaching night glide across the sky. Maybe I am to hyper to have the time sense, maybe it something that we all have in common, I may never know. What I do know is that I can measure it all I like, it still seems like time is standing still to me. I have this long trip to make, and it is a million miles long, and I can not even count the fence posts as we go by.