still tryin'

 Greetings, cosmic traveler, the ethereal entity known as "Naked." In the vast tapestry of existence, you stand as a singular being, a constellation of experiences, challenges, and aspirations. In this grand introduction, let us embark on a cosmic journey through the galaxies of your identity, weaving together the threads of your narrative with the hopes of attracting the kindred spirits who may resonate with your unique frequency.

At the celestial age of forty-five, you've navigated the cosmos of life, charting a course through the complex constellations of disability, trauma, and the tumultuous terrain of homelessness. Unyielding in your spirit, you've chosen to traverse this cosmic dance without the confines of a wheelchair, a testament to the strength that courses through your interstellar veins.

Now anchored in the cosmic coordinates of Renton in the Pacific Northwest, your earthly abode for the past two years mirrors the vast expanse of the cosmos, lacking the stability, comfort, and connection that one craves in the cosmic journey of existence. An apartment devoid of the cosmic harmony you seek, a haven bereft of the creative energies that could propel you beyond the confines of mundanity.

In the ethereal realms of mental health, you've sought solace in the wisdom imparted by Diane Langberg, whose celestial guidance serves as a lodestar for your journey through the cosmic landscape of trauma treatment. Yet, the earthly resources, like fallen stars, have failed to align with your cosmic needs. The digital constellations of the internet, once promising avenues for connection, have become black holes of isolation, prompting a cosmic boycott for the preservation of your mental well-being.

Your cosmic odyssey is not without its challenges. The labyrinth of public transportation proves an insurmountable celestial puzzle, confining you to the cosmic solitude of your apartment. The cosmic symphony of "adulting" orchestrates a cacophony that stifles the cosmic creativity within, leaving you suffocated by the gravitational pull of societal expectations.

Amidst this celestial chaos, you yearn for connection, for companions who can harmonize with your cosmic frequencies. In the vast realm of social interactions, you've encountered stumbling interlopers, socially inept souls who traverse your minefield of experiences with the grace of cosmic neophytes. True stability, you declare, lies not in the isolation but in the shared cosmic dance of companionship.

Yet, the cosmic dance is a delicate waltz, and you find yourself out of step with a society addicted to its own vices. The blame, unfairly cast upon you, echoes through the cosmic canyons, drowning out the nuanced melody of your cosmic struggle. The documentary you wish for would pierce the cosmic veil, exposing the barbarity of a mental health system content with the bare minimum, akin to a cosmic lobotomy.

Your gaze turns skyward, finding solace in the celestial bodies that adorn the cosmic canvas. Astronomy, Startalk, and World Science Festival provide respite, moments of cosmic communion in a world that often feels alien. Your cosmic aspirations transcend the mundane, reaching for the stars as you yearn to birth a tech/media company that can illuminate the cosmic realms of creativity.

In your quest, you seek not just any cosmic companions but qualified local volunteers and companions with an abundance of free time. These cosmic allies would aid in the birthing of your celestial endeavor, acting as mediators between your cosmic vision and the earthly realm. Advocacy and legal representation are your celestial shields against the meteors of adversity.

Your call is specific, echoing through the cosmic void, seeking intelligent, compassionate, competent, and skilled women who share the cosmic resonance of atheism and nonconformity. In your cosmic sanctuary, you reject the flaming monkey excrement of unsolicited advice, gaslighting, and the toxic emissions of a society drowning in its own addictions.

You've crafted your cosmic shield, deflecting the projections and pigeonholing attempts of those who fail to comprehend the vastness of your cosmic tapestry. Fortune-cookie wisdom and self-help pamphlets crumble against the celestial force of your principles, and you challenge the cosmic notions of luck with a rhetorical question that resonates like a cosmic wave.

The cosmic vibrations you reject include the jarring notes of heartless apathy and the cacophony of illiteracy. Your cosmic discernment dismisses the religious echoes and the bitter taste of coffee and alcohol. Males, too, find no celestial sanctuary in your cosmic presence, as you navigate the cosmos with a weariness born from their immature posturing and your longing for a safe cosmic haven.

You stand as the architect of your cosmic destiny, challenging the "you're on your own" mentality that pervades the earthly realm. The alternative, you declare, is a cosmic symphony where each cosmic entity functions at its full potential, a celestial utopia woven from the fabric of a resource-based economy, a robust social safety net, universal basic income, and the imposition of a wealth cap.

As your voice echoes through the cosmic expanse, you advocate for visionary realizations that shatter the chains of fear and mediocrity, beckoning society to emerge from the cave of its own illusions. In the grand cosmic tapestry of your aspirations, there lies a clarion call for a cosmic awakening, where the brilliance of each star contributes to the radiant glow of a united cosmos.

In this cosmic odyssey, you find refuge in the words of Neil deGrasse Tyson, StarTalk, and the World Science Festival, celestial beacons guiding you through the darkness. Your invisible YouTube channel, "Naked Alien," captures the visual echoes of your thoughts, the silent reverberations of your cosmic musings.

Now, with this cosmic manifesto unfurled, I, the cosmic narrator, beckon the cosmic kin who resonate with your vibrations. Those intelligent, compassionate, competent women who, like cosmic comets, streak through the cosmic expanse with a nonconformist brilliance. May this cosmic transmission reach the ears of the celestial allies who can usher you into the cosmic dawn of your dreams.

So let the cosmic call resound, and may the galaxies align to bring forth the companions, advocates, and allies who will traverse the cosmic dance alongside you, Naked, the luminous entity seeking connection and understanding in the vast cosmic expanse.