busy monkey

What it's like to be a busy monkey:

I realized that I was not a typical person when very young. Just looking around, and savoring the aromas, and listening to life's sound track was way too stimulating for me. It will be difficult to explain to a reader that is not a busy monkey. Colors are too bright, sounds are too loud, and smells are much more intense than is required to identify the odor. This can be very entertaining. For example: laying on the ground looking at ants while birds sing is like a fantastic movie that lasts all day long. It can also be a huge problem when the stimulation gets too great. The busy monkey is likely to misbehave and to retreat into a protective shell.

I had other senses that I naturally assumed were shared by the human race in general. I could recall past events with unusual clarity. For instance, I was able to purchase my college text books, read them from cover to cover one after the other, and then return them for a full refund. My test scores were nearly always 100% with no studying at all. But, there was no trick to that, because I could look up the answers very quickly in the mentally photographed pages, or recall the appropriate lectures word for word.

I also found that I could tell what people around me were feeling. Again, I thought that everyone could do that, and I wondered what all the talking was about. I found that one person that was in a good mood was no problem. But 3 people nearby provided too much signal. A person that can see auras clearly told me that mine was as big as a city block, instead of extending just slightly past the skin. If I was not able to draw that aura closer to me and stayed in a city, I would literally die.

A good memory is not always disturbing to the owner. It can be like money in the bank. I have been trained for many professions, gaining skills easily. One need keep no records. The down side is that I recall stressful events very clearly. It is hard to be around people when you remember every stressful event that you have shared with them. It helps if you have experienced many positive events together. If you can tell what they are feeling, that makes them very real and 'persony'. You can step into their shoes, and they need to be comfortable shoes.

I do not believe that I am mentally ill. I certainly seem so when overstimulated or trapped. Despite the gifts, my life has been one of constant flight. I can't stay in a city, where people, with their emotions and schemes, are thick. I fear any type of captivity, so that makes personal relationships close to impossible. I have managed a 3.5 year relationship with a woman, but we probably broke up 60 times in that period.  I succeed at nearly any job that I choose, but a formal job is similar to a prison sentence of indeterminate length. The most difficult job that I attempted was field engineer in the oil field. There was a solid 10 months of intense training, with a kind of final exam for the small minority that made it through. I ran a crew for 2 years then, writing bills of up to $120,000, and receiving bonuses of up to $3000 for a single visit to a well site. I learned to care for the crew on the road, controlling their drug and alcohol consumption, and making sure that they were well rewarded. I handled disasters, including a well explosion and a high speed highway accident complicated by explosives and dangerous radioactive 'sources'. The US part of that company [precision drilling] failed, and I was the last engineer in the US to be laid off as they wound down their American operation.

I love to take photographs, and have been recognized with grants and sales of expensive art images. It is very enjoyable to let others glimpse my cartoon world. I have made some documentary films, including one where I was the subject of the film [A desert life]. It won awards, because it allowed viewers to feel like a busy monkey for a few minutes. I was to be flown to the awards ceremony, but of course, I was unable to undertake the trip out of fear of over-stimulation and captivity.

For a long time, I occupied my time scaling cliffs, often with no rope. I have a body deformed by German measles during gestation. I was able to whip it into some kind of shape so that I could travel about and climb the most difficult climbs in the US. I did this for about 40 years, taking a break in the middle to try academia and heavy industry. I traveled a loop along the Rockies, and then back along the coastal mountains. For income, I guided climbers, sold images, and repaired climbing shoes. At the age of 55, I encountered chronic soreness that made it impossible to continue. My friends were nearly all dead by this point. Un-roped climbing is a mostly a self regulated activity. 

I began to take care of remote properties. With my ability to use tools, hunt and endure long periods of being alone, I was the ideal caretaker. Each client told me that I was the best that they had tried. The other caretakers had visited the place infrequently, and did the bare minimum to keep it going. I stayed there, totally content to do my busy monkey stuff. I was then hired by an entire family in Moab, Utah. They gave me a nice car, and bought the old hospital in Moab where I could live.  When the family vacationed, I moved into the parents house. I began to work for a solar installer in Castle Valley, and built my first tiny home in that isolated town.

Moab was very good for panoramic photography, with it's red rocks eroded into all kinds of interesting shapes. The town itself  grew greedy in time, and converted itself into a noisy, unpleasant playground for fossil fueled recreation. I towed my 19 foot travel trailer behind my Jeep to Washington state, to prove a new well at a friends property. The Methow Valley proved to be a somewhat pristine area, with a river that always runs, and is was protected from exploitation by the federal government.

I built more tiny homes, carrying one to California to show to a perspective buyer. I rolled that one on the way back, and injured my pelvic floor in the process. I was able to sell the wreck for a fraction of the material cost, and build more. By this writing, I have built a 10 by 14 observatory, an 8 by 12 bedroom, a 6 by 8 tool shed, the 8 by 16 tiny home that rolled, an 8 by 8 kitchen, an 8 by 10 climbing gym, and a 10 by 12 foot shop.

I moved up the valley from Carlton to Winthrop, and began to work for another large family. I concentrated on operating heavy equipment when not building portable solar buildings. I made trips to the parent's ranch in eastern Washington, serving as welder and mechanic. I received some big city medical care, including the removal of all remaining teeth and the fashioning of dentures. That is where I am at now, having achieved 61 years of age. I continue to build an elaborate castle for myself, become trapped in the castle and then kick the castle down.