People need homes to call their own with all the comforts of home furnishings, modern conveniences and a large grassy backyard containing a swimming pool, a barbecue cooking section for bio-units luncheons and a garden maze for the kids to play.
People want houses to ‘have’ for showing off to bio-units and friends and don’t mind struggling to make payments on mortgages that could never be paid off in a lifetime (like my hard working cousins in their newly purchased houses up in San Ramon, CA).
Others find no other means to afford the illusion of home ownership and end up living in their trucks somewhere out back at a bio-unit’s yard or walking the streets begging for money and being in and out of shelters.
The process of escrow, for example, for any home buyer is tedious. Parties involved have to know what they are doing because ownership of property is a commitment. This is like being married only it’s not a live person. Cash up front as down payment of some ten or twenty percent, whatever the case may be, is required in order to secure a property that other buyers may end up outbidding.
Some may put their prides down far enough to ask bio-units members, relatives or friends for some cash to qualify for a home loan. Others learn to work hard and not risk the embarrassment of later finding out that the original lenders may have interest in the properties or have sentiments of helping the borrowers.
A similar event occurred with Twit and her boyfriend, Brat. Both did not have cash for down payments. Last Sunday, the agent had told ‘Windy’ to get Brat to write a check to cover the three percent of escrow. I think the agent wanted her commission up front. The red flag in this relationship has been this big issue of who could match the down payment so that the bum brother (of Twit and after living in her condo for four years without working) won’t be allowed to move into the potential new house of this nice but ignorant couple.
The key answer is to have her sell her condo prior to getting a new house; since she has more leverage in the relationship. (This seems like a given for a couple where women have more power in some mysterious ways). Twit and Brat are perfect for each other. I wish I could be there for both of them in times like these, as well as for certain innocent folks forced into homelessness. They will always have my best interest, on my behalf.
Who, in the real world, has real cash? The illusion is not backed by any real gold standards and so cash in this sense doesn’t exist. I certainly do not have cash. If I had cash to spend, I would be living on them hills, Beverly Hills.
I have my bio-units to thank for their kind arrangement of staying at home and rent free. I avoid being homeless and stay within secured comfort. The price is my freedom of going in and out of the house freely without offering explanations of my whereabouts, after the curfew of being home before midnight.
By not owning real property, I free myself from the responsibilities of paying for property taxes, monthly mortgages, home insurances and utility bills. And I’ve been told the best way to go is to live in an apartment, which is something that I’ve never had the chance to try.
The idea of sharing the same walls, however, is not as private as a single residence that I’m living in. And I cherish my personal space so I could compose my blogs in quiet solitude, play on my Kimball piano, take pictures out back and walk indoors free and uninhibited in pink underwear during nights for a glass of warm milk.
I’ve been told to invest in real property. What would happen if the real estate market busts after some t-bills are sold en mass, if ever. Why would I want to work long hours, lose sleep, risk fatigue and get bags under my already tired eyes?
Why should I allow some lousy lenders to take away my life savings of hard earned pennies and have them rub their fat, grubby, grease-laden palms in delight at another deal that lands them a large commission, an all expense paid vacation and a better sense of pride in fooling others into the dreamless state of paper trails that seem to get shredded into oblivion as if nothing could ever come of starting the whole process of debt?
Those that are lucky enough to own property once shared under the sovereign rights of the earth keepers now segmented into reservations should not think for once that their ownership of paid off or invested properties belong to them. Nothing in this world belongs to anyone at any moment.
Anything that appears to be shared by all is but another illusion by those global elites who hold onto our throats until we bleed them more money to pay off their creditors. And the cycle of debt never seems to stop there either.
Copyright © FVDF. All rights reserved.
Saturday March 4, 2006 – 02:09pm (PST) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link | 0 Comments
Leave a Reply