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cucarachita
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I’d just like to say that when I was living in unheated garrets in Paris, with no hot water, no shower, no toilet, and no phone, I was putting myself though university in my thirties after a few years of living on my hard-earned savings and odd, illegal jobs. My classmates thought I was “courageous,” and “living my dream”. I thought they were idiots. I was just doing what I had to do, and it happened to be in Paris (long story). But when I looked around at the kids whose parents sent them to Europe and paid for their Eurail tickets, or paid for their cushy student lives abroad so they could “see the world,” I felt like spitting on the fools. You want to see the world? Work in it! For thirteen years I never made any money to speak of, but I certainly “found myself!” Yeah! Found myself, brought myself back to NY, and started working, freelance, this time. Wouldn’t have it any other way. Coasting through life indulging yourself will never show you a thing. Figuring out what you’ll do to avoid getting kicked out of a country where you’re residing illegally will make you very self-knowledgable and in tune with the cosmos.
















And also, I hate a book title that preaches at me. That seems to be a disease of the overprivileged lately. Preaching. What’s up with that? Does everyone think they’re Oprah or something here?