december 26 etc
I'm about to go down for my last sleep in Victoria. I miss our bed in Toronto but it's still a pretty bittersweet moment. I like it here. Like, a lot. I told my partner if we ever hit the lottery we should buy a little pied-Ã -terre here, somewhere downtown, probably, but maybe somewhere near View Royal where we'd get to drink in the sight of the ocean ever morning. We don't play the lottery, so this is a dumb fantasy, but even so, let me dream. Let me imagine what life would be like if we didn't have to worry about money.
Something I will never, ever understand is why these masters of the universe loser billionaire Muskerbergzos tech bro types don't seem to enjoy having money. People seem to think they do, but the stuff they buy with their money suggests otherwise. Like, you don't spend half a billion dollars on a yacht because you like boats and boating or because you're Twink Tucker and you love the seagulls. You spend half a billion dollars on a yacht because you can. Because only you and a handful of others can. Because only you and a handful of that handful would. It's an act of audacity.
You spend half a billion dollars on a yacht because you think that spending that kind of money on that kind of thing is a better use of that money than, say, paying the serfs in your warehouses a living wage. Or ending world hunger. Or solving homelessness. Or whatever else. You spend half a billion dollars on a yacht because there is nothing human inside you, because you are so out of touch with what being a person is about that you don't consider for a moment that you are spending your one life doing everything except actually knowing what any of this (stage direction: gestures broadly) is actually about.
I am a middle-aged man with declining eyesight and a net worth teetering around meh. I won't ever own a home and will never fly first class. But I'm in decent shape, mostly good health, and my brain still does most the things I need it to do as well as I need it to do them. The love I have for my people and my places and my things grows daily, and you can crack open my chest and count the little cinnamon hearts if you don't believe me. I've lived in a lot of places, which is why I will always know where home is. I've learned from most of my mistakes, but stayed stubborn where necessary. I've refined most of my interests to the point that I can see my blind spots and understand them well enough to refine and/or remedy them. I'm basically at the edge of understanding who and what I am and I've got the scars and stories to prove it.
I try to find a little bit of time every day to remember or realize how lucky I am. My partner reminded me of that tonight, just before I started writing this, and so here we are, lurching towards the end of 2025, about ready to crack open a cold new one, and the billionaire scumbags who could save our world but won't will remain the saddest, most unlikeable losers imaginable, and the idea that people in society should want to be like them is hilarious and not in a ha-ha way.
🌲 gonna and
🌼 go like
🌱 touch that
🌳 grass he's
🌷 now zzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Be good to yourself.
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