Broke as Fudge

I can't help but wake up some mornings and question everything I am doing in my life.  I've sacrificed so much and I still struggle with being broke as hell.  It's really difficult when you have to wonder how you will eat the next day knowing you're not one to ask for help.  But why can't I fight this smile off my face?

Here I sit on my kitchen floor listening to David Bowie (dear god, I love him)  with tonight's belly full of wonderful food that I did not have a chance to take for granted.  It was amazing.  My job doesn't pay me enough to be bill-paid human.  So when I take a trip to California, I expect to come home to a bit of fuckery.  The next day I can say for sure that I will eat is Friday.  But why am I so chipper?

I am doing what I want in life.  I am not roped into a demanding career.  That means I can dissappear in the woods a lot of times without telling anyone where I am (my mom and managers might disagree).  I can camp under the stars in the sand dunes and walk around naked in the night looking at the ocean.  I often go into a recording hole and make music for a few days on end or draw and write poetry in the morning sun.  My possessions are few because I've never been able to afford bigger things.  I don't work off credit.  When I have money I buy the simple things that keep me alive and ensure the best adventures.  The things that I value are my books and the computer that I make music on.

Yes, my trip to California set me back.  But what did it give me?  A real experience.  All these trips that I take... I've seen things you can't imagine.  Maybe I'll never own a ferarri but I've see the canyons in the desert.  Maybe I won't ever have a mansion but I have people all over the world that I have made genuine connections with.  Maybe I will never fly first class and sleep in a five star hotel.  But I've slept on a bench in a park and watched the sun rise over an island.  I've partied in the woods with barefooted, dirty-haired gypsies.  Being at the bottom is the most beautiful vantage point.

When you can't take cabs, you walk miles and miles and see the trees and the small details.  The writing on the buildings, the struggles of others.  Really grounding shit.  When I can't afford restaurants I make my own clean food.  Vegetables are cheap and healthier.  It's also amazing because I connect with my food.  I've become a pretty dang good cook.  I had to learn.  There was no other way.  So my body is strong.  But that's just the start. 

I popped a tire the other day in my car.  So I rode my bike about 15 miles to work because I couldn't afford the tire until payday.  My legs got stronger and stronger.  I was happy and invigorated at work.  I have been walking pretty far and the weather is so kind right now.  Some people might bitch.  But they're blind.  

Ive also learned to fix my car, heal my body, build and make my own stuff... I don't panic when my car dies on the highway.  I don't freak out and run to the doctor for every little ailment.  I'm not scared to ask questions and challenge conventional thinking.  I don't have a reputation to live up to.  I can dress in women's clothing and shave my head if I wanted (and I have).  I can live out of a backpack indefinitely and travel alone to strange countries.  I know about nature and I stop to examine flowers and trees.  I'm not afraid to walk though the dark woods alone to get to a hidden beach in the moonlight.  I have real emotion to write about.  Material things have less and less value to me.  I learn to live without them and I spend my little money on experiences.

They tell you to buy a house and a new car and have nice things and have good credit and a good career.  I ask questions like "How free are you?", "At what cost do you have those nice things?", "In the little time you have, what will you experience?"

Being broke is hard.  It's not for cowards and people who can't adapt under pressure.  But man, I've found a sweetness in my days that I wouldn't trade for all of your riches.