I was going to say "Poverty" but, actually, it's not a struggle. I gave up years ago and simply planned for it. I'm so far in debt that I can't afford to pay attention. (Old joke, eh?) Not that it matters. I have a good roof over my pointy little head, too much food (for me) on my table, a nice healthy dump every day... or so..., a very loving family that yells at me (out of love) when I walk outside without a coat on, and some really good friends who have the same thinking patterns as I do. (Well, some really good friends who DON'T have the same thinking patterns as I do.) My art appreciation goes from marveling at a winter snow storm to the sexual ecstasy with someone who gets me to that ecstasy just by my looking at Her pretty little dress. All of my senses (except my common sense) are involved in appreciation of pleasure. Even my skin revels in the sensation of the thick fur of my blanket that I sleep under.

So, yeah, I am impoverished but I don't really struggle with it. I enjoy it. For that matter, I'm sure you've heard, when I was in prison, I enjoyed that, too.

Ha ha, and my wife calls me a crazy old man.