I wish that you could make subtitles on these journals. They're a wonderful comedic device. If I could make subtitles, this one would have had all in lower case letters 'big surprise'. An interesting dude named Jacque Fresco said that language was an exact science and not subject to interpretation. If language is a science, it's a science like making beer is a science. All the variables are there, all the means to hypothesize, analyze, and synthesize the information is present. But you know, if you want to you can just throw some sweet potato mash and molasses in with the wheat and see how it tastes for no other reason but because it sounds good.

I often think about the idea of being homeless. This isn't that special as I often think of many things. Candy colored ponies, assorted inebriating beverages, even more assorted girls, even MORE assorted fruit candies. Different kinds of soap and pizzas and stupid ideas about God and stupider ideas about death and stupider ideas still about life whirl around. But for a few seconds today at a specific time where I was feeling pensive  But the thing about being homeless is on the surface, I don't see the huge problem with it. For me, a home is just a deal where I put my stuff. More specifically, a HOUSE is a place where I put my stuff. A home is a place where I do the things that i think one should do in a home, like hang out with friends, drink with friends, take naps, read stuff, get my junk out. I started thinking about whether a house is necessary to do all the things that are needed. I'm still not sure. I can read, nap, and hang out with friends without a house easily, though I'll admit it's sometimes nice to have a private space. Drinking and getting my junk out is a bit more difficult. I think if there's anything I can finally conclude, I'm not much of a homemaker. I see a house as a necessary evil so that I can have a place to store my books and animes and beer and so if I want to I can enjoy any combination of these things either with friends or naked. Still, I think I have sort of an idea of my ideal city that's been percolating from these thoughts that I think I'll have to talk about at some point. Mellitapolis. I think on some level I just want that whole deal where I can take all my favorite people in one place.

I find myself thinking of things I'd like to build. Cities, libraries, I dunno. At some point you get sick and tired of the stuff around you, I think. At some point you see more and more of what you like but you see even more of what you don't like. I think everyone should make their own city, if on nothing else then as a little model on a table. It's good to make thoughts plastic. Thoughts are so useless, they're ephermal. We have so many of them. It's good to pin them down, make them real things. Making something from a thought makes you take time with them. Making something from a thought and just thinking a thought is the difference between a one night stand and a marriage. Thinking about something a lot but not doing anything with it is like having a mistress.

Again I think the whole deal is that I rather hate the word homeless, or at least I hate they way it's used. In the US and many other places I know less about, to be homeless is to not have an address for mail. And that's untrue because I think that lots of people who live in little boxes with little mail boxes don't really inhabit a home so much as they inhabit a space. They don't have fun or read or get their junk out in those places. They keep their stuff in them, but fuck, I can keep my stuff in a bag. I do this often. Is my bag a home? I can also sleep in an airport. Is an airport a home? I think there are a lot of people who don't live in houses that are homeless. But I don't think it's because they don't live in a house that they're homeless so much as in the US,  if you don't have a house your life is a dick. If it wasn't so miserable to not live in a box, would as many houseless people be homeless?

I was talking to a buddy today and it was mentioned that he might be getting out of the navy. I asked him why and he explained it was because his grandfather, with whom he had a very strong and happy friendship, was not feeling well and could be dying soon. The entirety of his grandfather's rather large fortune was to go to my buddy. Should this happen, my friend was going to buy out his contract and look after his new estate. I told him I'd pray for his grandfather. He said thanks and that I was apparently one of the few whose first statement wasn't "hey, you really lucked out." I can understand and empathize a bit. Sailors notoriously have low morale, to a lot of us, the concept of buying out our contract is a dream come true. But I can't get over how ugly it is that people thought money, any amount of money was worth a person. I hate and can't understand money and even I can make it. But a friendship, a serious friendship like the one I have with my father or my friends Jo and Mo and Momo or my sister or my other friends or anyone I hold near and dear, I can't make that. I could never make that. No shitty day job or lottery ticket or years playing the stocks could grant me that. The world's a scary place to me. And these two concepts, that people who don't live in houses don't have homes/ shouldn't be allowed to have homes along with the idea that any amount of money is worth a loved own dying makes me angry. It also makes me lucky that I haven't gotten to that point. Because much in the same way that even I could make money,  I could easily lose it. How wonderful it is to me that even if I have no house, if I have no cash, if I must be a beggar for the rest of my life, I'll at least keep within my breast the most important secret. That none of that is important, that as long as I have friends and family, I'm apparently richer then many.

It's my birthday by the way. God gave me the greatest gift when he gave me other people. Here's to twenty two more, guys.