capitalized

Today I can’t not feel capitalized. I think capitalized is a state of being.  The state of being capitalized feels like commuting and feels like 401(k)s for retirement. It feels like leaving college, getting an apartment and then another and then another and having stuff distributed throughout the country.  It feels like moving back home could never be an option. Its more like - while everything capitalizes around me, the me that makes me me minimizes.

I don’t want to own land, because how can I own earth. Who am I? I don’t want a car, I don’t want insurance. I don’t want to buy gas or oil. I don’t want to subsidize an industry that makes its business by trading money at the risk of my liability. I don’t want to travel over 30mph. I don’t want to give my ss number to anyone else.  I am grateful to be here, I am grateful for the food I eat.  But I can’t own this land or any for that matter.  I don’t want to go to the doctor, and I already said I don’t want insurance. But I don’t want to go to the doctor because I don’t want someone telling me what’s wrong with me. Because no doctor will tell me that the water I am drinking might contain trace amounts of pharmaceuticals because current water filtration standards don’t yet account for the presence of those chemicals. (Its premature, they don’t know what the effects of that can be, so it can’t be regulated.)  And because no doctor would tell me to use tea tree oil as an antiseptic, or that the elixir drunk by Hippocrates himself was hot water, apple cider vinegar, and honey.

I feel capitalized because of common office practices.  Office culture and convention is repressive and regressive, oppressive and aggressive.

I feel ‘capitalized’ because I don’t want to support corporate misbehavior. I don’t want an email address from a corporation that follows non-disclosure policies when it comes to political giving. So I will banish my gmail address and then I will write to all the people I usually send instant communication to and tell them I will no longer be using gmail. I will tell them I will be henceforth sending hard copies of my correspondence to their physical addresses. But, the mail travels – by air, truck, or rail (yeah right, not these days). I don’t want my mail to leave a carbon trail. I can’t send my correspondence, it seems, without compromising a variety of standards that I value.

A broader question could be what compels me to stay in touch with people scattered all over, but not become directly involved with my neighborhood.  I see this as a temporary living situation, so my commitment to engaging in this community does not exist. I don’t like feeling disconnected to the community in which I live. I feel capitalized because I came to California to realize that being capitalized means following the gold trail to get what you need and then to get out.