Ran out of scheduled posts, so here’s a recap of how I got here and where I’d like to go:
Past
Dairy
A few months after starting my first job as a Laboratory Technician (at the beginning of my enslavement, omitting the school plantation acclimation process) I knew I would fling myself into a vat of raw milk to escape being there everyday from eight, with an hour allowed me for eating to keep me going until four.
Schooling
Instead, I boarded a plane to Brazil to pretend I cared about getting a degree in anything, far less more Business.
To pay for this five year lesson in perseverance, I followed the advice of people with brains I thought they’d been using to figure out the best way to live life. I was wrong and ended up with a student loan. (I also would even have stowed away on a cargo boat to get out of Barbados at that time of my life).
Strikes at my university resulted in my not completing the degree, getting a job or starting to pay back when I was expected to.
Arrears
After 10 years, I’d paid twice as much (Bds$100,000 or USD$50,000) as I’d borrowed and still owed Bds$12, 000. The shamelessly exploitative nature of this ‘no cap’ Student Revolving Loan SCHEME made me receptive to seeing evils associated with the Monetary System, and reminded me my permission was never required for me to be a part of it.
Other Plantations
I worked in Barbados (Hilton, Fraudsters & Imps, The Aquarium where I cleaned shit, two figuratively, one literally), then started teaching English as a second language, thinking that travelling might equate to enough joy to cancel the effects of working on a school plantation.
After visiting over 30 countries and living in 6, I realised it did not, however, and on January 28th (or perhaps 29th), 2018, on the verge of being found strolling in the middle of the street, naked, lathered in my own excrement, I left my last nine-to-five job teaching Business English in Panama and crossed borders to live off my savings (suffer malnutrition) in Costa Rica.
Boyfriend
I’d planned to have an organic farm experience in Nicaragua, but never heard back from the farm and lived with a guy I’d gotten emotionally entangled with in Costa Rica. That’d occurred on my final border hop to renew my time in Panama.
The relationship wore off, just in time for me to go spend three months on an organic farm in the Costa Rican mountains with a wonderful (secretly crazy-Catholic) family I’d found online.
Organic Farm
Had an amazing time while the time was amazing: learned to tie tomato plants, planted seedlings, harvested strawberries, weeded, prepared for market, shat by a stream, walked to Copey, seduced a dimwit, got kicked out of my dream to live with crazy people.
Returned to Barbados and fell into the dreamless sleep that is depression fuelled by existential crisis. Nothing really matters. That ran its course. We attribute meaning to life. And I’d done what I set out to, reviving the kitchen garden at my parent’s place. It’s got carrots, beets, spinach, kale, hot peppers, bell peppers, a bunch of potted herbs nobody is buying and, as in the featured photo, sweet potatoes. I’ve been having some success with selling compost bins and decorative pots though (success = enough money for rum to numb feeling pressured to consistently monetise my life). I always say this, I know, but it must be said.
Beets
Carrots
Beans, kale, thyme and lawn grass
Somebody say “MOJITOS”?!!!! (Here’s your mint)
Present
Editor
For the last two weeks I’ve been working with an editor on my short stories and happy about that…although editing is unending and I was already exhausted from my own editing process, before bringing them to her.
Parents
My parents continue to be insane people full of contradictions, but they help me be more certain of who I am, since they’re forever challenging that. I grow happier the more I accept they are separate from me, flawed and lunatics.
Crush
I’m infatuated with someone, although it is the emotional challenge unavailability presents. Being in Barbados (around my parents) triggers my desperation for affection, so, when I meet someone who denies me it like they do, naturally it evokes emotional attachment. It is, after all, how I’ve learned to love. (No judgement, just a fact. They’re as damaged as anyone and this is how it expresses itself).
I’ve been self-disciplined, however, suffering silently, not acting on my feelings but responding to how I’m being treated….so I’m doing nothing.
I’ve always got Naked Attraction as a distraction.
I’ve decided not to go to the bar where I see him because cigarette smoke is making its way back into my lungs, the way it does—first you share a cigarette, then you have a selfish one, and soon you’re smoking four (since you smoke in pairs, you OCD weirdo) and waking up smelling like Khaleesi of the Dothraki.
Sex
Had sex a few weeks ago to distract myself from my crush. Sex has become a last resort staycation. It is for when lust overpowers reason. It’s such an ordeal, preparing for it: tidying up down there, the waiting in vain, ultimately, since expectations warp your ability to let things be what they are, so you enjoy the moments rather than try to make them fit a premeditated pleasure.
He was not as assertive as I’d have liked, but at least it wasn’t a marathon—we climaxed together, which is always better than letting yourself go (because they gave the right signal at the wrong time) only to have to pretend to be selfless for another hour, trying to help nudge them over their edge.
Other Blogger
I’ve been reading another blogger. His work is very precise, clean. I try not to compare my writing to his or I’d hate mine. His ‘trancecripts’ make me think, and I’m glad for them. I wonder where he is in this world and what he teaches and if ‘he’ is a ‘he’ at all.
Daily Routine
Life is quiet contemplation otherwise. My morning meditations have been consistent, and I see I’m more responsive than reactive. Then, I do my garden walkthrough: scream at the mealy bugs, wonder why this plant or that has turned brown and wet the passion fruit and other potted plants, pausing to admire a toad. It’s suddenly been a furnace for about a week now, and I should wet the plants twice a day. (I’m only going to wet them once).
I cook so my brother eats (he’s really busy with his delivery service business and will miss meals). I’m over cooking and would rather face constipation from eating only salt bread with peanut butter, but I cook so my brother eats (he’s really busy with his delivery service business and will miss meals).
The rest of the day is me writing in my dungeon of a room (ground level jalousie windows stay closed because the mosquitoes have no conscience—they’ve actually not been many because it’s been dry…but it only takes one to fuck up the gains from all that morning meditation).
I’m also scheduling posts for my page redramsplants (since taken down because it’s easier to sell on Facebook marketplaces) while fielding messages and calls from people who don’t usually do what they say they will, so mostly following up to find out if they are still interested in completing the transaction.
Future
Next week (can’t face it today…or tomorrow…) I’ll approach a place about them supplying me with some items I’d like to sell. My current suppliers are super-unreliable (family’s criminal side) which means I can only sell stock I have in my possession.
Anything else? I need to be in nature more. Maybe I’ll go hiking on the East Coast next week. I miss the never-ending roll of the Atlantic’s waves. Although I’ve not been since the sargassum seaweed started drowning turtles and washing up in stinking heaps.
(Barbados is still beautiful! These blooms are cyclical, every X-amount of years, apparently, and throughout the Caribbean…probably worse as we’ve entered the Sixth Extinction).
I also have a desire to reconnect with old friends. Plan to dedicate more time to that and I’m working on getting to bed earlier (9 p.m., not 2 a.m.) to get up earlier (6 a.m., not at a later time that is none of your beeswax).
It’s mango season. You can’t give them ‘way! They’re so many (everyone has a tree).
Mangoes for days! (The neighbour gave them away – left them in our garage!)
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