Final Day of Crimson House

Mike reflects on his impending eviction, characterizing his time there as a stagnant state of limbo, and highlighting the spectacular failure of his nonprofit initiative.

I think I’m alive. Live from Crimson House with the usual jazz. I’ve been covering up a lot of emotions because tomorrow is eviction day. There’s a part of me that’s strangely excited about it in a fucked-up way. I’ve been in a state of limbo here, staying in Louisiana even though I haven’t worked in my engineering profession for six months. I tried to get Crimson House set up so someone would care enough to keep it running after I move, but I haven't gotten a single penny.

I’ve reached the point where I realized I really dragged this out. I managed to shoot myself in the foot by not getting my next engineering job lined up and failing to get a single soul to care about Crimson House. We can safely call this a big old failure — a big old fuck up. My plan is to go back to Ohio, which I had decided before this became a flaming dumpster fire. I thought giving my time to Crimson Rouge Studios would improve it, but I failed to inspire anyone to help.

I don’t know if the mission was too sprawling or if I was doing too many things with too few resources, but I sacrificed myself for a community that gives no fucks. It’s easy to zoom out and ask, "What the fuck are you doing, Mike George?" in a state where no one knows you. I’m an Ohio person; that’s where my people are.

Let’s talk about Alexandria. The people I’ve met here are nice to your face, but that’s where it stops. Try following through on a phone call or a date—they won't show up. Expectations here are foolhardy. America used to be about helping neighbors, but that’s gone and has been replaced by stupid petty arguments on Facebook. We can't even agree on how to listen to someone anymore; people just argue for argument's sake instead of seeking solutions. It sickens me.

I would love to be proven wrong, but the city of Alexandria obviously doesn't give a shit about itself. I’m just a spectacle to you—someone you can watch to feel better about yourselves because you aren't doing as badly as me. We sit in this loop of bitching on Facebook and have nothing concrete to show for it but wasted time. I spent six months rotting away here. I’m not asking for handouts; I had plenty of money but gave it away to help people who didn't deserve it.

One year of this website operating in Alexandria has resulted in zero dollars raised. That is spectacular. I have over 2,000 so-called friends on Facebook, and not one person could give ten cents just to check if the website works. It shows how useless and fake this platform is. It’s galling that I pour my soul into this and people just want to get in my pants. If you want to suck my dick, at least give ten cents to the website first to show some faith.

I have a Master’s degree in engineering; I shouldn’t be broke and begging. I made the choice to take a risk and donate my time to a cause with a glaring need, and now I’m done. I’m going back to my boozy lifestyle, making 100K a year, and I won't feel a speck of remorse for the unfortunate. I haven't even smoked weed in a week, so the fact that I haven't lost it or blown my head off is a testament to my restraint.

Finally, a comment! Paula Fox Royale, welcome to the show after 20 minutes of me ranting. I’m flattered you’re here, but we are pathetic. I’m tired of putting myself out there for nothing while my own friends tell me to "get a job". I would love to bury my head in a job and tune out the tragedy of our society. People are giving money to the homeless just to take a selfie for a social media moment; it’s not about altruism anymore.

Our attention span in this country has gone to shit, and methamphetamines have turned good people into vegetables. Facebook Live, you guys have sucked—except for Paula. Enjoy the outrage and the useless bullshit. Carry on with your day. Bye.