This is where I live.
Except, all those cassettes you see there, basically everywhere? I sold all those. My life's collection, my nearly four decade long passion.
But, fuck, yo. I am SO disillusioned with where we are headed as a species and various sets of societies that I felt - and still feel - like it's time to lighten the load and be ready to go. Go where? I'm not entirely sure, but I think the time is coming and it's coming soon.
That's why I bought The Van, with full intentions and half-baked plans to build it out into a (at least mostly) full time living situation. Speaking of, I should really update that page. While The Van is still out of commission for, what I believe to be, a blown fuel injector that I can't just quite yet pay to get fixed, there's been a buncha other stuff specific to it and the lifestyle that could be shared there. #todoprojects
I don't know that I'd call myself any true political - and surely absolutely zero religious - umbrella terms. Life is too nuanced to do something like that. That said, I probably mostly align with some sort of compassion and empathy based anarchy. If I want a rain barrel in my backyard, fuck I'll have one, how can a city or state tell me I can't have one on property I own and pay taxes for or rent and, also, pay taxes for. If I want to have a bed somewhere in my owned or rented space that is not specifically designated as a bedroom, that should be fine - not everyone likes couches or armchairs - and why does having a back to lean on in terms of furniture have to be a requirement for furniture in any given room, or not. I know, I know, some people will cite building and safety codes. And I get it. But If I have a couch in the same space as I have a bed and that is okay, no one knows if I'm sleeping on said couch or sitting on said bed. Like. WHAT. THE. FUCK.
I'm just looking to take my music and my books and my dog and get the fuck outta Dodge. Shit is so fucked.