This is just going to be more of the same. Nothing has changed.
The only new thing that happened to me was getting invited to stay with Bruce Macdonald for a month in Costa Rica.
But I have no money to go there and no passport.
I'm completely dependent on my mother.
I resent this life. Every day is the same. Stuck in this trap, these loops of the same thing over and over.
The pain is compounded whenever I look back to how it was when I had my own home. My own privacy. My peace of mind. Sanity. Money.
I came so close to realizing my goal. By minutes. I was minutes away from financial freedom and getting out of Canada to go elsewhere.
How can anyone... recover from this situation? It's unique. Turned about $30,000 into $200,000 and managed to lose it because the stock market closed before I could put the sell orders through and the next day it dropped to $170,000 which flipped a switch in my mind and for some reason, I didn't sell. The next day was $140,000 and that is when I started becoming despondent.
And the messed up thing about all this is ... it felt like I was being guided. I couldn't have been more alive and more aware and in tune with my spirit than at that time. And I pre-emptively thanked God for getting me up to $200,000.
But...
I guess I messed it all up. So bad, that months later I lose my appetite and somehow end up going on a road trip with two of my passports that I eventually lost along the way. And that's just part of what's happened during that time.
Now, I'd have to re-apply to get a passport.
But I'm so tired of all this.
Every day. Every day I tell myself that I want to go home. Home for me is either to be with God in the spirit and leave this life behind, or home meaning someplace where I belong and feel safe and able to connect with my spirit again.
I'm exhausted living with my mother. I resent her charity. She has enough money to be comfortable. Almost a hundred grand. She doesn't worry about a thing. She'll toss twenty dollars at me and say to go get dinner.
I resent it.
I've no independence left. No pride. No dignity. No peace of mind or privacy or anything.
I have nothing left.
Even if I did went to see Bruce and spent a month with him in Costa Rica, I'll still have to come back here.
To this shit place.
And I'll be angry about calling it that. This place is shit. Mold in the basement that sent me to the emergency room twice already. Weird smells caused by my mother. A lack of cleanliness in the kitchen because my mother doesn't use dish soap and makes a mess with food stains on the fridge handles, light switches, handrails on the stairs.
I resent this place so much.
Sitting outside listening to the loud traffic. Squawking of crows. People looking down at me from the apartment across from us.
And all I can do is stare at my damn phone. Soaking in all the horrible news about what I was preparing myself against more than four years ago in 2020.
I can't believe it's been four years already.
And I'm stuck here.
There's no point in getting a job. Assuming if I can even get one, and still have to come to this bullshit townhouse I'm in. With my mother.
I'm so fucking tired, God.
I have so much potential.
And it's been suppressed.
Squashed.
Can't do anything but stare at the damn phone and watch videos all day or play games.
What a waste of a life.
I came so close. I didn't want any of this. I wanted to write. I wanted to see new people and see new things. Start my own life. Live my own life.
On my own terms.
Own my own home. I don't care if it would've been a shack if it was in Ecuador and I had my own water well and fruit trees.
I just want to see the clear night sky. No airplanes or helicopters or chemtrails.
Stars. Bright and twinkling and constellations.
Can't do any of that here.
I'm done with all this. I really am. Dead man walking.
If I managed to get to Costa Rica, I'm going to cry the day before I have to leave and come back.
I wonder what it would be like if I just ran into the jungle and hid. But that wouldn't work. Can't survive for long. Don't even know Spanish enough to communicate with the locals. Not going to be able to pay off a cell phone bill. Can't guarantee I'd find water or food. Can't charge my fucking hearing aids because I'd be almost deaf without them.
Constantly scratching my head right now. This place has some bad stuff in the air. My mother doesn't notice it of course. She's ignorant of these things. Can't even smell the weird sewer smell in the washroom that is absolutely repugnant and I know that I am not imagining it.
What a waste of a life.
I give up on this.
I believe in miracles, but will a miracle happen to me?
Because I need at least $200,000 to get out of here for good. $500,000 would be optimal.
Anything over $500,000 is going to be for other people and not for me.
I know that I am a good person who's made mistakes. I resent the choices I've made with some of the women I've dated and upon reflection, I understand why I made those decisions. There wasn't any other way but to go through the motions.
I know better now, but it's useless knowledge when I am stuck in this trap I'm unable to get out of.
I used to pride myself on finding creative solutions for complex problems but this one is beyond my means.
No credit. No money. No passport. No job. No friends. Family are all vaccinated and ignorant as to what is going on. Except for three.
No intellectual or spiritual stimulation in this place. Just the opposite.
I am being treated like a child. Almost 50 years old and my mother treats me like an idiot.
And I keep thinking about what would happen if I was able to sell those shares in time before the market closed. Would've looked like a genius to everyone if I did. $200,000 in the bank? I would've been out of debt and not have to file for bankruptcy.
Could've gone to Mexico to meet Jeff Berwick.
Who knows, maybe we would've gotten along well.
Maybe I'd have moved to Ecuador or Nicaragua or Mexico.
Who knows.
Thinking about the what-ifs is about the only thing that gives me a tiny measure of joy in my life. Dreaming of that alternate reality that I was so close to living in.
But now, it's all gone to shit.
This is... not worth living.
In loops. In cycles.
In the middle of the economic collapse surrounded by ignorant people who don't see any problems or know how serious those problems are.
People that laugh and smile who still trust the government and doctors and believe in institutions.
They are morons. Four years after covid and they still think voting matters. Trump or Pierre is going to save us.
I'm tired of all this.
I just want to be in a grassy field on a warm night looking up at stars in the sky.
In Ecuador or Costa Rica.
I don't want to live in Canada any longer.
It's finished.
I'm finished.
