Namaste cult collective
Where did the past two weeks go? I’m back in Australia. Lusciously placed on the salty coastline waiting for the sun to rise every morning, rolling in the waves.
Something amazing is occurring in my life at the moment. When I started this page it was to make as a Writer in NYC, and I did. I lived an amazing eight years of it.
Now, for the first time in my grown up days, for a brief window of time…
I don’t have to work. Strike me dead blahg family. I’ve actually got enough bread up whipping words that I am officially on sabbatical.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be back to slogging along with the best of us somewhere in the distant future. But my hard work over the past few years has put me in a position where I’m taking a few months to do nothing more than what my soul announces.
The last time I had this freedom and perspective was in 2002. I remember very clearly. It was in the months leading to me ending up in Australia.
The only thing I had in common with my first husband was an esoteric spirituality. It meant enough to keep us together for nearly a decade. What I grieved for years after the relationship was never him, it was having another seeker by my side.
I have never lost faith in beliefs I was born with. I use them to steer my life, and my life is quite a ride.
I wasn’t desperately chasing an opportunity to zen the fuck out, it just came upon me. And every moment is making some of the best days of my life.
In the past 48 hours, I have met some of the most extraordinary people I’ve encountered. Ink is falling out of my fingertips. The puppies and I spend hours just staring out at sea, watching the sun rays ride the waves.
Everything I set out frantically to achieve when I started FollowMeToNYC, I’ve either achieved or positioned myself closer to. My heart mended. I grew.
Now I’m going to light some sandalwood and stretch. My only plan for the next few months is no plans. No structure. It’s a wonderful place to be…
I really can’t handle advertising. I don’t reckon advertising is something that overjoys anyone — but I feel like my loathing is next level.
Since leaving the household where I was raised twenty years ago, in the middle of the night to sleep on a New York City floor with some welcoming strangers I met the night prior — I’ve never owned a television. Televisions are advertising boxes that I cannot personally endure.
Part of why my web presence has faded since firing up ten years back is because computers have followed the same suit. These days I read very little online because the assault of advertising has an ineffable effect on me.
I’m a free spirit with an open mind and I enjoy making my own decisions and being guided by my free will. When any type of brand or foreign influence intervenes, I tend to plug my ears and squint my eyes.
It’s over the top, I know.
Furthermore, this issue prevents me from any online monetization effort. I have a stack of acquaintances getting bread off of the commercials shoved in their YouTube videos or the google ads woven in their webpages. And trust me, I envy the “who cares” approach. Maybe one day I’ll get over it.
A word that makes me throw up in my mouth the most these days is “influencers”. I perceive an “influencer” as a human advertisement. I think this is even more disgusting than a corporate commercial, because these people are using an audience who adores them to pimp flat tummy tea or whatever trash pays. It’s impersonal and self-centred.
Smart phones are essentially mini television tracking devices that have changed the world in a way far beyond me. And while I no doubt require the access of certain technologies as part of my career, I try to keep it at that.
So in closing, FollowMeToNYC will remain ad-free. Shout out to the YouTube millionaires who have literally banked millions off of ad revenue. It literally blows my mind.
I decided ten days ago Manhattan was calling. I had been in a fairly shit mood for like two weeks and I needed a quick fix.
So last Friday, I hopped on a plane and am currently hibernating amongst chilly treetops and windy street blocks.
Since I left Manhattan to go back to Australia in June 2018, I’ve been freelancing.
The dopest thing about being a freelance Writer is setting yourself up to work a month, have a month to yourself, work a month, play for a month… or more. Sometimes two months. Sometimes three.
It’s not the most financially lucrative way of living, but swinging it has been a blessing. And if I hadn’t spent eight years slaying as a word nerd in Manhattan, I don’t reckon I would have been able to work my career quite same way.
That said, I recently met some friends that run a business in the Phillipines who would be very keen to snatch up a full-time Writer. There aren’t actually that many of us around. I mean, anyone can write and should write… the professional game gets a bit different.
I’m going to hide out in the city with trips to the sticks until Friday week. This is the third time I’ve been able to get from Australia to the city in the past three months.
When I fired this page up ten years ago, I could barely afford flying one way…
I’m still feeling quite internal but the feeling is where I connect to what’s around me. It blows my mind I updated this page every day for over five years.
A lot changes in five years. Even more changes in ten.
I’m kind of shocked by online behaviours these days. I can honestly say if the same amount of internet hate was getting slung around ten years ago, I probably wouldn’t have built this blahg.
I really love connecting with like-minded tribal members and enjoy spending time with beautiful people. I’m away from glowing screens as much as I can be. These days I turn my phone off for open-ended periods of time and stay away from computers as much as I can.
I guess I’ve come back to who I was before I dipped into FollowMeToNYC. An enhanced version, naturally. I believe women are like wine.
I’m going to go pour more blue ink into my black leather book. I hope you are all happy, healthy and beaming. I’m really trying to change back to daily posts, but I’ve been trying for a couple years now. I’m onto new art projects that I’ll share as they unravel. But best believe, my gypsy bounce has never been springier.
Super shut.
Observations inside silence are always the loudest to me.
One of my favourite people who hails from the South Island of New Zealand spent a few days in my beach hut recently.
We guzzled gin drinks and played hair colour games with another favourite who dwells down Byron way.
We dipped carrot sticks in garlic dips and swapped secrets and silliness. The colours of my life are violet and gold. They remain that way.
Seven years back two of my best friends killed themselves within nine months of each other. That reality floated past these pages somewhere, right around the time when I shut down.
Considering I keep five friends in my pocket, losing close to 50% of them was something I never tried to accept.
Not until these past few weeks.
When y’all wonder where I went. Inside a broken heart is probably the best excuse I can float you.
I never took a minute to think about it. I’ve been crying a bit recently. I’m finally facing what the fuck my problem is.
Per the recommendation of one of my favourite kiwis, I’m finally starting to dance it off. That’s what the boys would want.
Blast this. You’re welcome.
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