For the past three years I have been experimenting with luxurious poverty.

My entire life, my future as a writer lived on the other side of economic success.

I did what I thought I was supposed to, got good grades, kept my head down, went to so much school, got jobs, was a great employee when I wasn’t a terrible employee. But the time to write never arrived.

I don’t have friends really these days. I’ve stopped pretending I can afford queer socialization, which almost always involves some expense in the form of travel or admission. I no longer eat out. I haven’t ever had an adult vacation of my own time and choosing. I live with my mom as her full-time caregiver in addition to being a barista at Starbucks.

But I’m writing. And it feels luxurious in a way I struggle to articulate, not because the words are difficult to find but because for the first time in my life the lexical floodgates are wide open.

Critical thinking has always been a luxury good because it takes time to acquire and time is itself a luxury some people are born without and never acquire.

But they cannot stop you from thinking, even if you have to do it while being a barista or making burgers or selling clothes. Think critically on their time. Let them subsidize your internal evolution.

If critical thinking is becoming a luxury good, there is a gold rush waiting in your mind.

Start digging and never stop!