Tentative plans to move to No Cal are in the works. Assuming that my Guinea Pig plans pan out (Outlook: Good) I will have enough $$$ for a one way plane ticket to California, prolly to SF and a bus ticket to Humboldt County. Once in the land of milk & honey I will begin to work the land in an "off grid" enviornment. This means that I will no longer be a slave to government provided electricity, heat or water. This will also mean I will have to work hard to get seemingly simple things. There are solar panels to provide for us as well as organic gardens to nourish us. I will still have internet access (awesome & essential). I will be able to run naked through the Red Woods. I stand an excellent chance of being free in ways that people only daydream about. Most of all I will get the best chance I could ever hope for to... be me.
I must admit my undying love for Detroit and all of it's archaic glory. It is a dying city. It crumbles and aches before me. It is trapped in a culture I cannot condone. It seeks to be "hip" and "neat-o" but it seems like a sad charade. Tonight further cemented my suspicions. I saw 15 yr olds hammering out screamo tunes (honestly, this kind of music makes the most sense sung & played by adolescents) and aging high school quarter backs slogging through Sublime covers (best described as the sound of Bradley Nowell rolling over in his grave). Cowboy Messiah played their most lively & fun set to date but it wasn't enough to overshadow the emptiness of the night. At the Belmont I couldn't help but feel like I was amongst the worst kind of cookie cutters. Perhaps I don't understand their culture, perhaps I am too jaded to ever relax but I felt like there was too much effort in the air when people ought to be cutting loose and dropping their guard. I did meet some neat people, I can't condemn each individual. It was the social atmosphere that disagreed with me. It wasn't the entre, it was the garnish that lead me astray. Shit... I don't even know what I am talking about.
On the 28th I meet with specialists at the WSU Psychiatric Division to discover if I am a prime candidate for a nine day in-patient test of an experimental amphetamine. They will be testing whether or not, or to what degree, this new drug is likely to be abused by the general public. If I qualify and complete the test I will make over $1000. This should be enough to cover my transplant costs. This experience will also go a long way towards inspiring me to write (chemically as well as otherwise). My new story idea is not to be unveiled because I have become fairlt superstitious about such things. I feel like I might be jinxing myself. I feel like even suggesting the possibility that I have an idea that I might ruin it. Even casually proposing the idea of moving to California seems risky. I am certain that nothing is certain but god do I ever have a swelling hope within my ribs.
Any advice, positive or negative, is very much welcome. I promise to play Devil's Advocate in every situation just to test the mettle of any statement. Thanks.