Dreamed last night I was homeless again. It happens quite a bit. I often think of selling everything I own and striking out for Nashville. I could cavort with "The Homeless Guy" as we sat in coffee shops with our laptops.
I'm starting to come to the realization that I need an austere life just to stay alive. I do everything in excess and don't know how to moderate my tendencies. I drink a case of diet coke a day. I smoke 2 packs of cigarillos a day. I go on great droughts of not eating then eat in excess. Everything about me is black and white. Dark and light. Binge and purge.
So, that brings me back to the austere life of a homeless man. I get it in my head that this frugal life will avail me of my urges -- the inescapable urge to burn my candle at both ends. The Rescue Mission would feed me two scheduled and stable, balanced meals a day. I would sleep on a stringent schedule. I need the harshness of that life to control myself. I am certainly out of control as it is and feel at a loss as to what to do about it. If I ever just disappear then you know where I am.