The Problem Is, There Isn’t A Problem. You Are The Problem And You Don’t Care.

Staying in Yreka one more night, going to go back to the same store, give him a few more bucks and maybe chat for a second again if I am lucky enough to find him again. In that one minute exchange I had with the homeless man last night it changed everything. The problem is me, the problem with me just like you, we don’t fucking care until it is too late. Until we have taken it past the point, until there is no chance of return, then we  decide it matters and that we care when we lose it and can’t  get it back. Fuck the problem is, I feel like I am fucking losing my mind over all this shit. What I did is nothing compared to what I could do that is in front of me, the problem was I didn’t care and that is why today I am living out of my car in Yreka California. I cared about getting high and chasing the wrong girl and hanging out with friends all the time. Things adults just don’t do, because they grow up and stop chasing, they value the time they get to spend with friends and they live their life, they don’t run to California at thirty-seven because they can’t beat there addictions and demons if they stay there! I guess I could look at this trip like I am running, and accept that I am the pussy I have been every other fucking time. But the problem is, I do fucking care this time, what is back in Olympia does matter and that move I was going to make, well its do or die time. You can talk about making it at fifty-seven, or you can make it at thirty-seven so you have something to look back on at fifty-seven!

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