S2;EP5 - The 2019 Chronicles: Wherefore Art Thou Poverty

“You will be broken down to nothing in order to be built up stronger.”

--Bar Harbor, ME; Columbus Day 1998

Hey, gang! Welcome to my life – where anything is possible and nothing is as it seems. I’m Freedom and I’ll be your host, coming at you from within the depths of Geistopia.

Welcome To My Life is a project, an experiment in Life and ART. A living storyboard, if you will. Its premise is that life is experiential, and that you can, and do, experience the life you choose. It is based on The Wheel of Life and The ARTs for The New Millennium as life building tools.

Welcome to my Life is an I T.V. Studios/Geist…House Players Production, in association with the Center for Creative Inspirationalism. JustUs Productions, the parent company, would like to give a ‘Shout-Out’ to the following for their ongoing, and oft-times unknowing, inspiration and support:

Princess Cuddlebug

Princess Sunshine

Craze & Co.

The Shaman

The Pillar

F’n Bob

The Entire Putt-Putt-Putter Clan

Professor Siggy Chong

The VanMan and General Ralph Glossop (may they R.I.P.)

PDT

‘Blue 326’

The Original KLT

The Looch

The Baker

Bert-on

Andy Pandy

The Mudder

Hoagie

Superstar

The Wix-ians

Piz-Niffer

Jersey

Dancing Queen

The Anomaly

Downtown Encyclopedia Brown

Baby-Mama Rabbit

And, of course, a very generous sponsor who (not-so-much) wishes to remain anonymous.

It is…Monday, March 11, 2019. Time...Established. [Again, this post took me a week to complete.]

Theme of the Week – Prophecy is a Funny Thing

Lesson of the Week – Make The Most of What You Got

Observation of the Week – Deja Vu

*sighs, whispers* “So, it comes to this…”

It’s been a Void of a day. I’m not sure quite what to make of it, nor how I feel at the moment. I can’t quite get where I would like to be. I had wanted to do this writing yesterday. In fact, I had myself to just about the perfect groove, when I was distracted and deflected by The Putter, The Pillar and The Shaman three. There was much drunkenness (and drama) to be had.

This threw off my yesterday and my today as well.

I have been struggling through the day. The morning was very long and difficult. I awoke between two and three. This shouldn’t be surprising considering I had passed out well before five. I was still in such a drunken haze. My head was swimming and my gut was turning. Eventually, I would vomit and somewhere, still in the early morning hours, I would lie down again.

Later in the morning I was able to muster some strength and some motivation. So, I shoveled myself out and also cleaned up some of my mess from last night. [And, I made quite a mess of things.] It wasn’t as bad as things from the past – such as the day that would spiral The Occurrence.

Soon after I had passed out, Hoagie arrived and he and The Putter would try to break in to the treehouse in order to wake my ass up. I heard them for while. I could hear them but I couldn’t move. I was caught between stages of consciousness. Eventually, I would gather just enough consciousness to get down to the door, open it and be like, “What the fuck??”

They were off very shortly thereafter.

Later in the night I would wake up having to pee. I came down the steps and found I couldn’t get the door open. It seemed to be latched from the outside. I pulled and I pulled and I couldn’t get it open. I texted The Putter first. He claimed to know nothing about it. He also didn’t offer to come help me out. Of course, there was a lot of snow on the ground at the time. So, I figured it must have been Hoagie. I was infuriated. I was also still in a drunken haze.

There were some angry texts and me packing up and getting out of the treehouse. I figured if I couldn’t trust my friends then who could I trust? Please keep in mind, one of these fine gentlemen is known to have duct taped people to their front porches because it was amusing. So, my concerns weren’t completely without merit; However, the foggy haze I was in may have thrown off my rationale a bit.

It’s Never About What Happened, But What We Learned From It. So, here’s what I’ve learned from this. First, I really must watch the hard liquor. It’s not just the amount I take in but also what kinds. Different liquors affect me differently and I must keep this in check. Too often, it leads to chaos.

But, also, I learned that in an emergency situation I can be packed and out of here in ten minutes, with all essentials.

Always Have an Escape Plan.

It was an interesting week, though you have already been caught up on most of it. It took me several days to get that last post written and completed. So, there are pieces of each day strewn throughout. But, let’s see if we can do a brief catch-up and summary of where we are at, so that, perhaps, we can get a notion of where we are going.

It is two weeks that I am in The Matt Tree, or as we have come to know it more fondly – The Putter Inn & Suite [@ Geistopia.] The first week was all about getting acclimated – figuring out how it was going to work. The second, then, was dedicated to getting what I need to make it work. The pantry is full. I will not starve, at least for several days. Truth is, I have been eating quite well. If I could manifest money the way I can manifest food I would be a very rich fellow.

This realization actually helped me to help a friend. Hoagie did come by again tonight. We resolved the locked door incident…which also somehow involved a crowbar. But, that’s another story. He also mentioned that he was broke until Friday and didn’t have much in the way of food. So, I passed some of mine on to him. He was hesitant at first, but I insisted. I still have plenty left and I manifest it easily. [Or rather, it manifests for me?] On Sunday, Sunshine brought me a plate of eggs and later in the day Queen Putter would send me a bagged lunch. Four days out of the week, I eat a good meal at work.

“Just take some food.”

I have settled in a bit more. I have found a place for everything and am working to keep everything in its place. I tweaked and organized. I hung some hooks [with permission.] I even got myself a toilet. [Still kinda working that one out as we go.]

I currently have two Tarot Readings tentatively scheduled for the week. I still have rotors to pick up for scrapping, as well as some copper wire to strip. This is good. It was just payday and finances are tight, but then they usually are. This seems to be the pattern.

I get paid and a lot of money goes out right away – gas, food, bills. Whatever is needed. Then I am left with a bit to get by for two weeks until the next pay. It looks like more than what it is because eventually more gas will have to come out of it. Possibly more food, and who knows what else comes up along the way.

Hoagie was commenting that he is in the same pattern. Perhaps this is how it is for everyone. The impact is seen in the variance of income and expense. Nonetheless, I assured him that it was no different for me. That’s what every pay period is for me. Sometimes, I don’t even have anything left after the first few days. But, you know what I’ve noticed? You get used to it. You learn the pattern. You learn to be aware. And, you make the most of it.

I still have some retail merchandising work available to me. My struggle has been in making it work. My pattern and my routine are very off at the moment. Usually, I take a Monday to myself and then I am good to go for the week. But, lately, it has had to be Monday and most of Tuesday. I am very off kilter and still adjusting. Along the way I still have The Middle School every afternoon except for Thursdays, when I work.

The Middle School is still a much larger project than I was prepared for. It swallows me a little bit more each day. I keep telling myself that one day I will be caught up and all will be fine. I’m not sure how true that is.

And, I am still trying to get my groove right with The Theatre. Part of it is The Middle School. It throws a wrench into every day. Part of it is re-adjusting to the normal routine after Christmas and The Murder Mystery. And, still, part of it is that we skate around definition. Words and ideas have been tossed around but none of us has made a definitive move to solidify these things and make them concrete. So, once again, I am bridged between two realities.

The dental thing still torments me, and will until I find some sort of resolution – even if it is within. It’s not just the appearance and the ego involved with that. It is the discomfort. I feel it different ways at different times. The cracks, the breaks, the nerves even. Eating is difficult and often frustrating. This only gets worse as time goes on. All I wanted to do was fix it. Twice tried, twice failed.

As for The quest itself, it is as to be expected. The dust is settling. The initial rush is waning and a bit of reality is starting to set in. It is what it is and it is what it is for a purpose. There are things on the line, I suppose.

Something is obviously askew because I seem to be moving in the exact opposite direction of what I was…wishing. [I’m not sure if that is the word, but we’re going with it.] Perhaps it is a cautionary tale of be careful what you wish. For so many years I merely wished to be in the right place. Metaphysically, it seemed the most harmless wish. It put no pressure on anyone. It was simply, “put me where I belong.” For all of those years I was brought back to Geistopia time and time again. No matter how many times or ways I managed myself away from there, I would inevitably be drawn back. Recently, the wish had been more for a place of my own – space, silence, a bed to rest my head on as opposed to the couch. Now, here I am, living in a treehouse. And, still, life manages to put me right in Geistopia’s backyard and connected to it in various ways.

But, still, here I am solitary, alone in a space of my own.

I’ve begun to contemplate it deeper - where I am at and why. I find it interesting that as I sat there back in December, in the park with the noose around my neck, I contemplated other options. Other less severe, less negative, less permanent solutions.

The one that came the strongest was that perhaps I needed to seek out a Buddhist temple/monastery. Perhaps I needed to just put the world behind me, give it up and release it. Maybe I needed to live humbly and with devotion – free from desire. Now, here I am, living in a treehouse, secluded and simple. Traveling but once a day into the village to do my works and then returning to try to find the inner peace again.

There is still some funness involved. There is always some adventure or riddle awaiting along the path. For instance, the microwave.

I moved the microwave from The Cave into The Treehouse. In the days following The Incident, Sunshine had gone into The Cave to hangout. I have these sets of magnet words. You know the ones I’m talking about. There are two of them. They sit in a glass bowl. For a long time, the girls and I played a game in which you could add words, three at a time, to the board. You would be allowed to shift them around as needed. Anyway, Sunshine took those words and put some across the microwave.

Here are the words, in order from left to right – Aware, Change, Comfort, Spirit, Wish, Could, Laugh, Gratitude, Warm, Perfect, Sweet.

Fascinating.

Or, today, though right under my nose for two weeks, the Cardinal finally spoke. (Renewed Vitality Through Recognizing Self-Importance.)

There are still challenges, such as showers and laundry. I was supposed to grab both today, but that fell through. Instead I went to the Professor’s and at least grabbed a shower. Then I headed to the Laundromat. There was a bit of adventure at the Professor’s as I managed to lock us all out of the bathroom. It took some finagling but we got it off its hinges and all is right with the world once more.

The Laundromat is right next to The Princesses’ dance studio. So, I stopped over to see Cuddlebug. She was so disinterested. That’s the way she has been for awhile, but even more so since this Quest began. On Sunday they were at Geistopia. Sunshine came to visit me and have coffee. She brought me eggs and a bag full of stuff that I needed. She came and said goodbye. Cuddlebug didn’t come out once. At dance she just rolled her eyes and came to the door between classes and huffs, “I have dance. I have to go.”

“Ok. I was doing laundry just wanted to stop and say hi.”

“Oh. Hi.”

And away she went.

It’s sad for me. I always thought Cuddlebug and I would be close. We’ve become quite the opposite. I realize her life has been craziness. Well, not so much hers directly, but through mine. There was the separation from her mother. Then all sorts of crazy fights happening in and about Geistopia – both with my family and her mother. Then there was prison and the Re-Discovery Tour and now this. Not to mention my eternal poverty. I know I’m not much of a father of which to be proud, but I try to be the best dad I can. I’ve always been very open and honest and fair with my daughters.

Sunshine still loves me. She is my little girl. Of course, she is also very unhappy at her mother’s. I was her only escape and now I am not there. They have always [both] been a little unhappy at their mother’s. For so many years, I just wanted to bring them to Geistopia with me where their spirits could soar free.

The excitement of the Treehouse wanes a bit as I find myself here more lately. I feel so very alone. But, then, I have been alone for a very long time. I thought I had become accustomed to the idea until the Universe stared whispering other thoughts and along came That Which Could Not Be Written. Now, suddenly, I find myself feeling lonelier than ever before. So, now I must readjust to it again. Numb it, because it does hurt. There’s just no point in letting it show. It’s not something I see changing in my future. After all, I’ve been alone for almost 11 years now.

At this point, it would take a woman who wants nothing [because I have nothing] and who could love me for me. But, is there really anything to love? I am just a guy doping along and, if I am lucky, every so often I do something good.

The solitude forces you to face yourself, wholly and deeply. I don’t know what to say about that. As I said in the previous post, I try to be a good person. I try to be encouraging and supportive and giving and loving. Even in disputes with my family or when The Princesses are having problems with their mother I stress that they are good people and they mean well.

Cuddlebug once said that I say everyone means well. I replied that that is because I believe they do. I think everyone means well. It would be foolish to do something if you thought it was wrong and just down right cruel if you thought it was hurtful. Everyone thinks they’re right. But, as I recently told my dear, sweet Tinkerbell, very often our hearts are in the right place and our heads get in the way.

In my youth I was kind of a bastard. I had no real regard for anyone or anything. I know this. Perhaps that is why my life is sucky now. Karma…bitch…and all that. That would explain the loneliness. I was never very good with girlfriends or wives.

It would explain my discomfort. I have never really forgiven myself for the sins of my past. There is darkness in my past. Plenty of it.

What it doesn’t explain is the poverty.

In the beginning, it made sense. I had left the world behind and set out on a completely different path. At first, there was no thought. I was off on my first Quest. It was not as grandiose as I had hoped or planned, but then none of them ever have been. The Lesson along the way was to just Follow the Flow and Do What You Love and the Rest Will Follow. That was the Lesson I was sharing and the one I was trying to learn and live.

When I returned things seemed to be off to a fair start. I had found a gig as a Tarot Reader in a town about 45 minutes away. I was paid by the reading so it was touch and go every day. It was a touristy kind of shop so the hours I had to be there were minimal.

I was willing to suffer for a bit. After all, I was in a whole new life. How could I expect it to reboot at the same level I was at previously? [Though to be honest, I never had a lot of money, even when I was working a full time corporate job.] I thought I had the world pretty well set. I made some money and was building a business, I thought. I had time in the morning and evening to do cleaning, and what not, around the house as well as time to continue studying.

This would cause problems. It wasn’t just about the money. It became about the cleaning as well. It was not acceptable to clean one or two rooms each day. I was told I had to do it all at once or not at all. Eventually I chose not at all.

It wouldn’t be long until my Death and I would find myself leaving that job. I still continued doing readings, working occasionally at a new shop I found. I would also pick up work as a stagehand at a local house downtown. Again, the work was sporadic. But, it was work and I was still willing to suffer to make a go of it. I even started picking up work at the Jersey Shore in a sister shop to the one I was working here.

It was also during this time that I worked kids parties and events and even started an entertainment company. It provided a few kids parties along the way, two MDA benefits, two company dinners, a parade, and produced three shows – two of which were musical revues I had put together.

That would last until the lil red-headed whore came along. [And, I don’t mean Baby-Mama Rabbit. Though I could.] ‘Annie’ would bring my life to a halt. Anything I did have, was gone. I no longer even had a car.

I took a job at a diner a mile away. I figured that way I could walk. I worked there for a bit, at least until my ego got the better of me. It was there I would meet Baby-Mama Rabbit. From there to another diner, then to a local brewhouse. That, too, would come to an inevitable end in an unfortunate way.

Left on my own I started doing DVDs and CDs of the group Craze was in to make some money. It was off to a slow but very steady start. In fact, each year, for the next four years I would add a set to the sales line.

It was also at this time that I would start getting into the retail merchandising area of life. Again, it was very slow to start and it was difficult to make money. At the time, it was a lot of needing to have money to spend in order to make the money in the first place. Baby-Mama was having none of this and would eventually find her new man and be out the door.

I would struggle like this for a year.

Here’s an interesting side note though. When Baby-Mama left I was technically unemployed. The summer DVD sales had come to an end. We shared two vehicles. One required payments. She was working full time and agreed to pay half the insurance and half the car payment. In her first month gone, I paid her share for both. I also gave her $90 for the girls to go to the doctor. All I heard from that was, “Is this for the initial visit or the revisit?”

Never a thank you.

The next year was a struggle, but by summer I would have DVD/CD sales again, plus some retail merchandising. In fact, the video business was picking up momentum with some possible new clients. I even had found work at a fast food restaurant.

Then I went to prison. [Brought on through a series of Incidents with the family.]

After prison I was able to get my job back at the fast food restaurant, but not in the same capacity. Plus, I managed a gig at a local ski resort. Neither would end up being what they promised and both would inevitably fail.

For the next two years, I would dabble and play with Retail Merchandising. I was also starting to hit the event circuit with some Tarot and Reiki and whatever else. Very often I paid for spaces and spent an entire weekend for nothing. [But, experience.]

After The Re-Discovery Tour, I tried my hand at some fiber optic testing. Again, it all sounded perfect going in but the reality would be something different, and ultimately the reality wasn’t working for me.

I don’t know what I did when that was done.

I would return to retail merchandising for my most successful run. It was never abundant, but sufficient. It lasted until The Cave collapsed in on itself, taking my computer – and means of work – with it. After that I would take on some work with my cousin, until once again agreements made were not agreements understood.

Moving on, I would fill vending machines, then on to two different Barista positions. Then, last year I would find The Theatre and The Big Box [which is no longer.]

Along the way, I would do all sorts of things to try to make a buck. I did odd jobs for people – everything from replacing a garage roof, to yard work, to cleaning out an apartment. I even shuttled someone’s daughter to practice. I started re-selling items online and at flea markets, and scrapping metal. I took up crafting to help along the way.

So, what is with my poverty? It is not for lack of trying, or drive, or desire, or will.

Excluded from this list are a host of jobs that I applied for along the way. Most I did not get interviews. A handful hired me and with those I never seemed to actually work for some reason or another.

What am I doing wrong?

The Theatre is the first thing in 20 years that seems positive on the work front. But, is it truly viable? I don’t really make enough to change all of this, let alone have the life people seem to say I should have. Still, I haven’t figured out yet how to fill in the gaps.

Over the years, it is true, my parents have taken the brunt of my poverty. There have been times they have made grand gestures in the way of Christmas and Birthday presents – covering this expense or taking care of that need. There have been moments when they have swept in, “saving the day,” in a moment of desperation. Though these moments rarely end good and often make things a little more difficult on me. And, there have been plenty of times when I just wasn’t making enough money at all and needed help with bills and commitments. ‘

They have done a lot for me. Truly, more than I could ever repay. But that was the plan, 20 years ago, when this all began.

I had access to knowledge. Knowledge that I could take into the world and work a trade. I thought if I could do stuff for my family around Geistopia – fix things, remodel, whatever I could – then, I could learn the skills, build a portfolio and, at the same time, repay my family by making their home ‘richer.’ That is when the real stress between us had begun. We had had many troubles over the years, but, now, all I had managed to do was become the “asshole who wants to take over the house.”

I was helpless…and now rendered useless.

I continued to clean, off and on, over the years. I mowed the lawn, and took care of the gardens. None of it ever seemed to be appreciated and much of it just went unnoticed. I would buy groceries when I could – the essentials, the things everyone uses. [And, inevitably, Big ‘D’ would pay me back for them. *smh*]

It seems that the core thought behind our issues is that they have done all of these things for me over the years and I do nothing and am unappreciative. This is far from the truth of it. I have reached out many times, unsuccessfully. What the truer problem appears to be is that they want something from me that I cannot give, and what I can give they do not want.

“We don’t want anything from you. There’s nothing you can do for us. There is no way you can help us.”

These words were spoken to me more than once over the years. The more they were said, the truer they became. Even though it was all very far from the truth. But they lived those words, day in and day out. Big or small, there was no aspect of life that did not fall prey to the curse of that sentiment. They would go out of their way to not need anything from me and to not let me do anything. I could site example after example, give description after description, of how and when they would sabotage any chance of me restoring some semblance of balance. But, what is the point? Besides, most of it they would deny. They have. I tell you this is ok, because I have witnessed it all enough to understand that they know not what they do. It is so subconscious they are completely unaware of it.

Our problems go deeper than the poverty though. It’s not even the living situation. This is all a pittance in the mixture. Our problems are decades old. Some of them actually have to do with us and our relations. Many of them are caused by pasts that my family just cannot live beyond. And, a handful sprout from unrevealed truths that should be known.

There has been a lot of anger and negativity that has passed through Geistopia over the years. Truly, the incidents between me and the rest of the gang are only the most recent, and abundant, in a string of very tense relationships and moments. I have seen many Incidents happen around Geistopia of which I was not a part.

But there is something deeper in regards to our relations as well. Something that I cannot comprehend. They have an image in their minds, a perception of who I am…and it is very much not me. I will always admit that there was a time in my life when I was a prick. I really had no regard for anyone or anything, even when I thought I did. But, I haven’t been that person for over two decades.

When I died things changed for me. My desire has really only ever been the best and the most for everyone. I just feel incapable of being a part of that for anyone. Still, I try and I strive. [Maybe I believe I am still that person.]

But, still, they seem to hold on to that person and even he was never as bad as they paint me out to be today.

Here’s an example:

Today, The Putter told me that, before she left for her cruise, Boom-Dee-Aye texted him and asked if he would be available to remove me from the house if mom and dad needed.

…….

…….

…….

What?

I’m sorry….WHAT??

I have been out of the house for four weeks. About three of those weeks I have been living in a treehouse that is almost literally in their own backyard. I have made absolutely no contact with these people whatsoever. Not even this morning in the driveway when Big ‘D’ and I happened to end up there at the same time. I simply put my head down and went about my business. [I’ve gotten fairly good at this in recent months.] And, except for grabbing some things within the two days after I left, I have not returned to the house. I have been to my Cave to retrieve the needed things, but I have not gone near the house…and I am literally right here.

If I haven’t bothered anyone all this time, how does she even draw the conclusion that I would? I have given no indication of such behavior. I have been extremely docile and passive. Let’s be real, if there were going to be another Incident it would happened by now. Still, she draws this irrational conclusion. Then, has the audacity to draw some outsider into the delusion.

This is not the first time for this .This is what they do all the time. They create things in their heads and then go out into the world and share them. They project this horrible image of a me that doesn’t exist and the world buys into it…because they said so.

The Poverty…Their House….these are but trifles compared to the real issue. But we are not ready to deal with the real issue.

So, life goes on. I am not angry with them. I am not unforgiving. I am just frustrated and tired. As this all settles itself I must look to my present and my future.

The Middle School is finally gaining some momentum and seeing some productivity.

There is still a long way to go, and oh so much to do. But it is happening.

Then, of course, there is The Theatre. It is a steady income – for the most part. It has its waxing and waning. But, they try to do right by me and I by them. Things are changing for me there – my position, my role, my responsibilities. It’s going to take some time for all of us to adjust to it and get the system in place. And, just about when we do that things will change again, if all goes according to plan.

Despite all of this, at this point, I can’t see how it could become a viable living, providing me with the life on my own that we all think I need. Hoagie was on that kick recently. He was going on about how maybe this is happening because it is time for me to have a place of my own.

I agree. It is a possibility and the first one that I had considered. If that is what is to be then it will be. I just have no definitive path to that end at this point. There are too many factors and considerations. All I can ask is that I be shown the way.

He says it is much simpler than that. “Do what you gotta do. Conform. Your daughters first.”

Absolutely. Not only have I thought all of that I have done it, tried it, lived it. I just wrote it all out. Even I am having difficulty processing just how much I have done and tried over the years. In fact, now that I look at it – maybe I tried too hard. I was too scattered, too diverse. I didn’t even include the ministry stuff in that list.

I’ve tried it my way, your way, their way…every way. So far, nothing seems to have been the right way.

Conform? Conform to what exactly? The idea that I need a better income to have a better life. I know this. I’ve constantly been trying to achieve just that. Then came up the matter of leaving The Theatre for something better.

That’s where the quandary begins.

So, The Theatre has been very good to me. And, for me. As I have said repeatedly, it is the first job I have had in a long time that has lasted so long. They have also been moving me through the process and the planning, allowing me to grow with and through them. They have stood by me at my worst. They have taken very good care of me when needed. They have been good to me…and The Princesses. They have become more than just employers and associates and friends. They are family.

I have made a commitment to them, a promise. I do not own much, but I still have my word. Of course, this arrangement is contingent on certain details. They are planning big things for themselves. Things that are in the works. I have promised that, if those things go through, they will have me until the end of next season.

I have my own reasons, beyond finances, for wanting to leave The Theatre. This is something the lIl Boss and I discussed the other night. I assured her that I promised to do whatever they needed me to do, the best that I could, and I plan to continue doing just that. This is my problem. It is my cross to bear. I must find a way to deal with it, which I have been to the best of my ability. But, even that isn’t enough to get me to break my promise.

But, this is more important, no?

Perhaps…except for the final detail. The Theatre is Divine. It was given to me at a time when I was asking questions, seeking answers. We were brought together and we have been kept together through a series of random events and moments. We are a good fit together. They have a job I need and love in, not one but, both of the industries I have spent most of my time in. Work for which I have a passion. And, over the years, I have worked the right combination of random jobs to accumulate just a little bit of knowledge in every area of their plannings for the future. I came to them with the skills they needed.

If G-d has given me this, and it has been so good, should it be tossed aside so readily in the face of hardship and struggle?

Again, Hoagie thinks this is trivial. It is the very area of my life that causes the most difficulties. Almost 22 years ago I made a promise, a devotion to Divinity. My life has belonged to it ever since. It has placed me at The Theatre. Just as it had placed me at The Middle School and in Phoenix and Texas. Just as it has placed me in The Hospital. Just as it placed me in The Treehouse. It is what I have been given.

In the past 22 years, everything I have been ‘given’ has been perfect and precise – whether I liked it or not.

All the while, The Daemon has made his presence known once more. He has taunted me. This is more than just a Quest. It is a Test. It is a test of my devotion and my faith. It is a test of the strength of my Spirit.

So, this is what I have been given. This is the point to which 22 years has come. I can only take it and make the most of it. I can merely take it one day at a time. There is too much going on at once to do anything else. I am on the ground and running, but I have not gotten my footing yet. I am still fumbling quite a bit.

I have no idea how this all plays out, nor do I want one. I am not attached to anything at the moment. [Other than surviving each day.]

It’s possible that The Theatre will grow into something viable. But, that is some time off. It will take some work. It is possible that I end up back in Geistopia. That, too, though requires a great deal of effort and time. It is possible that things take a completely unexpected turn and I find myself in a place of my own, a new Geistopia, with a job I never thought of having. But, this too, will take time and effort.

If I had any doubts to the length of time this is going to take, they were erased by the current state of The Treehouse. It is becoming comfortable, cozy, homey. It adapts itself every day. Every problem finds resolution. Every challenge is met. Every need satisfied.

I am here for a while.

And, of course, last but never the least there is That Which Cannot Be Written. It becomes more challenging with each passing day. I must face it more now. It has gotten harder to ignore and block out. I have lost my escape. It has been taken from me. It is more imperative than ever that I remain ‘eyes down, mouth shut.’ Furthermore, I have been asked to possibly take on a project that will give me much more exposure to it all then I am ready for.

We got a long way to go and all the time in the world to get there.

So, without hesitation…

For now and for always, from here in Geistopia this is your beloved Rev

Walt: And Walt!

And, Walt, wishing you Peace, Love, Light…

Walt:…and Freakishness, baby!

Please feel free to leave comments, questions, and concerns. I don’t know you are there if you don’t say, “Hi.” Also, you’re experience of WTML is just as important as mine. So, let me know what you think. Secondly, if you would like to connect, or find out more about me, you can find WTML on Facebook @TheNewWTML or myself at @rev.mgeist.