December 18, 2013
What better way can one start a book on youth homelessness than to have just been again evicted from another residence that I was shortly blessed with? There is none but I want to make it clear to you that I am not upset. I think the matter rather funny. I used to not be like this but eventually I stopped caring. Everything I own now fits relatively comfortably on my back and I maintain a happy existence by myself in my tent.
But here in human land, one must obtain and then distribute a phenomena called "money" to a random person in order to unpack your tent and sleep in it. It cost only a little less to do this as it does to live under someone else's roof, garage, caravan, etc... In this world I visit sometimes I see very strange things. And merely to visit it requires bowing down to their ruler: the dollar.
You have just stumbled upon the lost house. Kids like yourself who are lost eventually make their way here, in which the man helps them find their way again. I am the man and you are no longer lost. Now let us just try and understand what lost means because I myself really do not know. Maybe you could help me? It bugs me ever so much.
I live it very rough, oftentimes at the tops of mountains. The longer I stay there the more structures I build with natural materials and eventually achieve a pretty comfortable lifestyle. But then a pirate infiltrates my base and am thus forced on to somewhere else. I walk a lot. One time I walked for three weeks straight, only able to sleep under trees by the sides of busy freeways.
But their imaginary world only exists for humans. When they are around me, they force me to act like their world is somehow real, and I generally play along. If you do not, the human will become unstable and will usually eject you from their presence or throw you in prison or psychiatric hospital.
They really hate it when you outline to them what they consistently do. Almost any one of them you can watch for a week and note down a textbook of character traits that are inconsistent with who they claim themselves to be. Ultimately, the peculiar species surround themselves with those who are like them. And when one enters their lives who is very different, they will in time be treated with hostility until they flee.
The lost house eventually finds all kids who have lost their way. And they are then no longer lost. Because upon closer examination of your psychology, you will realise that you fled. And how can you be lost if you were trying to find where you stand now? Come on! That makes no sense.
I am what my bird friends call betwixed and between. No human nor bird but somewhere in its middle. A halfbreed of human and the divine. A physical body to be identified within human biology but a mind that more closely relates to my flying relatives. And a spirit that intertwines the two into a new species.
But independent of the truth behind these words, here in the human world, topics such as these are frowned upon. The human has a very peculiar way of creating a collective fictional world. They reckon if enough of them "believe" something to be true, then it is true regardless of its truth value. Logic and empirical deductions are out of their capabilities, even though they supposedly dedicate an entire field of practice to its investigation.
But when new discoveries are made, they experience cognitive dissonance for quite some time before accepting them as facts. Truths that become obvious once revealed are rejected until together the species is able to come to grips with their new reality. And even if the truths become accepted, if they are not financially beneficial to them, they will exclude that information from their thoughts throughout their day to day lives, for example their planet merely being one of countless others swarming around their phoenix.
One must be very careful in this land because if you are misunderstood, eventually that will result with being thrown into a psychiatric ward where they spend great amounts of money not helping you, but instead stretching the limits of your patience. Their strange doctors will ignore your words and drug you, and then isolate you in order to review your response to the forced medications.
I have been thrown in those places two [now three] times now, but eventually I learned how to combat their evil deeds by building a wall of work between me and them. Every time they ignored my work despite me frantically pointing to it. If my work is my entire life, but is then ignored while being, "treated", then what does this say about our psychiatric model? Especially when that work is about them.
Let's not yet get bogged down in these details, for later I will pass you my eyes. But until then, it is now time to question the model of mental health that your society enforces on its people. Because this will clearly outline the evolutional stage of the culture employing it.