I need to do something.
I'm living with Kim in this 100-square-foot square room, again. I like it here, with Kim I mean. This morning, heavy as I felt and slept all morning, I enjoyed Kim being here. She worked on things. Things she wouldn't have worked on, if she was alone here.
Talk about how much we love each other is kind of beside the point. The point is, we need to be with each other. We both need each other, and we need to be together.
The big problem is that I'm not legal here in Holland. There are debates about which side of the law I should be on—most people think that some form of immigration control is necessary. On the other side of the debate is my love for Kim, if that's what you'd call it. And hers for me. We need to be together.
Well, "not legal here" isn't accurate. I'm legal to be here. I can stay for 90 days, in simplest terms, before I'm supposed to leave. I'll not put a date on this page, because there are freaky people in this world who want to try to control when and where other people can live.
I'm not legal to work here. That's the principal technical problem. I can't work. That's the immediate problem. [and it's not like I want to work; don't get me wrong. I don't want to work—at least, not in any job like 98%* of the jobs I've had.]
I work for money. I know people in Ireland who understand this concept. Americans sometimes don't. I don't know enough about the Dutch to know how they feel about work. So what I need is money. I don't want to do anything illegal (heh heh) or degrading (good luck.) But all I need, in immediate and simplest terms, is money. Ik heb geld nodig.
Later, I need to become legal. That is in fact what I need.
But for now, I need a job. What I "need to do" is look for a job, or find one, or in some other way get money. I need a job.
— 24 April 2004, Nijmegen, The Netherlands
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