A bed of roses

Friday, June 10th
Roseville, CA

Sleeping 'till 9 am without anyone waking me or mosquitoes. Feels better than any hotel. No stress, no hurry.

Ground at an angle. Slid down tarp several times while sleeping. Once in a while, climbed back up.

Cleaned up the homeless people's trash around me before bed. 1) Don't like sleeping surrounded by trash. 2) Don't want to look like its mine.

Morning camp

Two million more ants got into backpack, again! Burritos the culprit. They don't go for white bread for some reason. If they ever find the grape jelly in my saddle bag, I'm screwed.

Roseville is nice. I don't think I could afford to live here. The signs say it costs $480 to run a red light. Streets are wide, smoothly paved, buttressed by unnecessary malls that could survive nowhere else. Like, a shop for wigs?

Neighborhoods look pleasant and comfortable. I wouldn't want to live in one though. Too much maintenance. Not keeping up with the neighbors would stick out - an eyesore.

It's the kind of place I'd want someone else in my family to live. I'd visit from time to time, to show how auntie and uncle live better lives than us and give the kids something to aspire towards. All this being far aways hypothetical - if I had siblings, children, a car.

When I get to a nice place like this, I feel lonely and depressed. Reminds me how much I don't belong.

A young lady in fashion sunglasses test driving a BMW. Beauty is skin deep. Has less capabilities, really, despite expensive things. More limited, more trapped, a servant to a lifestyle.

I wonder if the Trumps of the country ever rode down the streets of their city on a bicycle. Sat on a park bench, or waited for the bus? Got a card from the public library? Washed their hands in a fast food restroom?

Ruling an empire of farmers with eunuchs who have never left the gates of the Imperial city. How can people understand each other across different worlds? What is the culture that unites us? Makes our interests common, efforts collaborative?

Freedom? I hardly believe it.

How little production takes place. Some farmlands growing wheat, grass. Some logging mills. Cows. Orange groves. Go into a city, and all the jobs are service.

But look at all the stuff we use. Turn any merchandise upside down and you will likely see another country's name on it. We rely on manual labor in foreign countries to produce our goods.

What do people want? A life of ignorance from the ugly nature of society. An Eden. To be provided for, to be loved, and held special by our lord. A childhood. A dog.