“Will Knit For Food” The Prologue

I can’t have you understand “Will Knit For Food” unless you read “Mad Man Knitting-or-the Waiter and The Fly.” I can’t bare to go on again about how a ruffian looking thing like myself managed to learn to knit, nor what it did for him when life began to collapse.

I wanted to make it perfectly clear and clean that this book will in no way be a system of sympathy. No, I had to make the clear decision that some people’s lives and reputations would be damaged by what I had to say. With my last book, it was the owners of the restaurant I worked at. With this new tome, it has to go closer to something to the heart. In order to tell this tale correctly, I have to disavow myself forever and for good people in my family, members of my past, and potentially, friends I had always wished to know better.

The point of this book was to explore something deeper about the experience I had worked myself into. And yes, I take full fault for having been the one who made the worst decisions possible; decisions so detrimental I ended up homeless, living in the woods, knitting a teddy bear, just ONE teddy bear to feed myself with.

There is much to be learned from this moment of desolate isolation. In much the way I honor those of the Great Depression who managed to feed themselves with not a penny to their names, I managed to do the same. The government failed me, my family failed me, but above all else, the moment I felt I had failed myself was the moment I broke free from some strange madness that said I was obligated to anyone. I was supposed to BE someone according to someone else’s standards. I broke free of the ridiculous capture that said I was a man who SUPPOSED to be THIS, or even worse THAT, because when all is said and finished, I was doing THAT and THIS to make THEM feel better about introducing me at engagements of any stupid sort.

I am my own man now. It took me living homeless, with no money and with only a set of knitting needles to my name to realize, and after 20 years of being a slave to the conditions of what I was supposed to be or become, to realize that I am viable. I am real. That I am a man.

I AM not worthless.

To help me finish writing this book, click here.

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4 comments

  1. I admire your courage to go all the way … to homelessness, to hunger, to rough times. I had my fair share of “breaking” out of the system to but never broke all the strings and kept going even zombified by the system.
    Robinson off your island, you have your Mario at your side and a sea of friends to wave you along! The wind will soon be on your side too, I am certain of that!

  2. Right on! You’re speaking for many, many people. It’s just too bad we have to get so broken before we let go of all those false expectations. Good for you for naming it and exposing it and refusing to be captured by it any longer.

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