Welcome to my lunacy

Two years ago I left the city, mayhap forever. I live in the desert, in a location I hope never to entirely identify. Although I'm only the caretaker for another person's property, I live here alone. Sometimes I go weeks without seeing another two-legged soul. My companions in this idyll are three dogs, whom I'll call Magnus, Fritz and Ghost (That's not really their names, but they're not my dogs), and two cats named Click and Butch. Since day-t0-day they really are my only companions, they'll probably show up here a lot.

I am what the writer Claire Wolfe has called a Gulcher, a Freedomista - a ghost. I don't really exist anymore - except I do. I used to be really pissed off, but now I'm just tired. I finally decided that there was no hope for the world around me moving in a more freedom-oriented direction. So that meant it was up to me.

I'll try to explain and describe my life here, as time goes by. But I'm not really advocating anything. The life I live here would drive an ordinary person stark raving bonkers in a week. I'm not an ordinary person: I'm a hermit. It doesn't bother me at all not to interact with other people for lengthy periods of time. It's not a lifestyle I suggest to others, because you're either a hermit or you're not. Most people aren't, and that's fine. I've got no problem with that.

Curiously, there are some people who have a problem with me living my life this way. I've tried to explain it in the past, but it just comes across like trying to justify mental illness. And I don't know - maybe it is. But I'm not harming a soul. I work at all times to give value for value received, and beyond that I don't really give a damn what anyone thinks about it.