It has been a very long time since I wrote anything. I've been keeping a physical journal pretty regularly for a few years, but other than that, I have been a barren field, creatively speaking. This makes me sad. I miss writing, creating, feeling, in public. Many people find that idea off-putting, feeling in public. It is a vulnerable position to put yourself in. It feels good, though. Really good, in my opinion.

To write creatively means to live creatively, and that is the reason I have been so empty. Being an adult in the 21st century doesn't leave a lot of space for living creatively.

In some ways, of course, we have more freedom than ever to do whatever we want. We don't have to tend fields from dawn 'till dusk to sustain ourselves; we don't need to raise children to help us tend the fields to sustain ourselves. We can buy food at the grocery store and put it in a refrigerator. Live alone, or with our cats and dogs, or with seven other people who can all take care of themselves the same way we can take care of ourselves with their cats and dogs.

Everything we need is 10 taps on the glass screen of a computer in our pockets away from being at our front door, and that sucks. It has ruined our lives, our planet, and, most importantly, our communities.

Everything is about optimization and convenience, and it is all so ubiquitous and expensive that it keeps us stuck. We basically have no choice but to participate. There isn't a single bike shop in my city. If I need to get my bike serviced, I have to strap my bike to my car and drive 30 minutes away. I don't have a car, nor do I have a bike rack for a car. If my girlfriend and I broke up, I would have to buy a car, and either way, I currently need to buy or borrow a bike rack from another friend (or ask him to bring me), just to have my bike serviced.

There are approximately 70 auto shops in my city, though. A city of 30,000 people, many of whom bike regularly, some as their only form of transportation. 70 auto shops, and not a single bike shop, let alone just a mechanic, anywhere that you could reasonably reach with a bicycle and return to your home without that bike. Even if there were, most of this city doesn't have sidewalks, and most of the sidewalks that do exist, are not maintained well. They're certainly not plowed in the winter.

I feel like I've gotten off track. My point is that it is so expensive to be alive and to do things that you like, or even just things that you think you should be doing (like using a car less), and our world (or at least my country) is designed to make that as difficult as possible. When you have to fight so hard to just do the basics, how can you have time to do anything that might inspire you to write about anything but how miserable it is that you can't get your bike looked at in your city of 30,000? Or how the student and consumer debt you were allowed to rack up as (basically) a child is continuing to drown you when you're nearly thirty? I don't want to write about those things. I suppose they would be compelling in some way, relatable even. But that makes me more miserable. I don't know.