When I committed to daily spilling in the first place, my thoughts went something like this.

I’m a full-time drone cog and that eats up so much of my mental bandwidth that I’m not in a position to be a real, full-time … artist, writer, belletrist, whatever it is that I’m going to call myself someday.

But the very least I can do is put down a few words that symbolize or at least tokenize that dream of living as I was meant to live, and do it every day.

It went on like that pretty successfully for some years. I definitely tokenized, sometimes I symbolized, and occasionally I transcended all of that and made real art in spite of it all.

For the year and a half of the lockdown and its aftermath, however, I have not been a drone cog in anyone’s machine.

In the rare instances that I was marginally Employed at all, it was via the black market, and I’ve been blessed to have no boss anywhere outside of the ethereal heavens. Life has not been a cakewalk. But the mind-chewing waste of bandwidth we call a typical Job, or even a ‘good’ job like professoring once was has not been any sort of issue. In other words, I’ve been free to live like the artist I claimed to want to be. And I truly believe that this is the greatest gift of all–to live as if one has no anxieties about the roof over one’s head, or what’s in the fridge today. Even if that means a life of layered sweaters and virtual ramen sometimes, so what? You’re free, bitch! and under that circumstance, there is NOTHING to complain about.

Well, except for the corporatists ruining democracy and pissing on all else that is holy or even sane, but … you know what I mean.

When I do get pissy, about those avatars of evil or anything else, it’s not been in the spirit of real political wokeness or anything noble like that.

It’s evidence that I haven’t really been doing what I should be, in spiritual terms.

Or to put it another way, spilling daily was right for the times five years ago, but it’s insufficiently ambitious for my beautiful life as it is right now.

Over the dark year, my ambitions have been nebulously brewing and mutating, but they didn’t reify until very recently.

Today was a red-letter day in that process of reification.

I bought a truck.

In time the mechanics of that will become self-evident, and the weird plot twist I just threw at you will make a little more sense.

If this were still pure spill, I’d be telling you about the trip to go look at it, the process of getting it home, how much I paid, who the seller was, and all of that.

Instead I’m giving you the first installment of many in my effort to explain WHY I bought a truck. And a weatherly video camera, and a bunch of other little things.

It’s all quite mad of course. But trust me when I say there’s method in it.

And please don’t touch that dial.