When Hunger Strikes

When Hunger Strikes


You learn a lot about living, more about dying, and what truly matters when you live on the streets. One of the first things you become intimately acquainted with is the true meaning of hunger from the inside-out. Going days, sometimes longer with nothing to quell that empty gnawing that makes it feel like your body is being pulled apart at the seams, being detached from the very core itself. Eating becomes a rare and treasured gift, yet the moment you finally have something to eat, you find your body won’t allow it, after only a bite or two, you feel like you’re going to explode, you feel bloated and stuffed--

Food has become a precious luxury, a commodity to be bought and sold, not something seen as the essential and required need to sustain life-- a precious commodity not afforded to those who need it, but an essential ‘luxury’ we’re readily deprived of—

The horrible way in which the system treats you when you are physically challenged, homeless, female and have no viable income-- You are completely and readily denied all access to food, shelter and clothing-- the very essential, basic needs required to live, yet is taken from you when you are not able bodied and able to do the State’s ‘required’ work program in a place of their choosing, entailing manual labor in loading and unloading trucks, as well as the work performed in their recycling centers. Telling you "We can’t just give you food; you have to work for it." 

Penalized for NOT having a roof over your head and having to live on the streets; the sentencing is the revocation of food and shelter because you are not able to purchase them. You are denied even the most dismal portions of food. But I refuse to compromise my health further by digging through the trash bins in order to get a few crumbs, picking up more than just food. I sometimes feel like not bothering to try to find food anymore, just let my body eat itself from the inside out, and then I’ll finally have a solid and permanent roof over my head.

When you are not a substance abuser, drug addict, alcoholic or smoker, or chemically dependent, you don’t fit into the narrow parameters set forth by the state to receive their so-called ‘assistance’. When you are clean, there is no assistance forth coming, there is nothing available. Your sentence becomes much harsher, while your life is brushed further under the rug. The state removes all access to food, denying your existence. Food is treated and viewed as special privileges, a luxury not given to those who need it, but readily distributed to those who don’t.

The brief moments I was “given” any kind of food by the State, were yanked out from me faster than a rug – because I am not physically able to do their required monthly work program, they have continuously denied me any and all access to food. And those very brief moments of being afforded ‘food’, I was never allowed to have real food, could not have hot foods, or prepared foods-- the only items allowed were junk foods-- not something I partake in. Being a vegetarian makes it much more challenging when you have to live on the streets. None of the places offering ‘food’ that they deem as meals are vegetarian friendly. So I rely on the fruit trees all around, my staple diet a few days per week.

Because I still have my teeth, and my skin isn’t sagging off my body, my face isn’t hallowed out—People tell me ‘You look healthy, you look fine’-- they insist I must be eating well because of my outward presentation and appearance-- they don’t see the damage being done from having little to no means to afford the luxuriant privilege of that precious resource you are no longer afforded when you are put on the streets, it is not readily noticeable from the outside. My gums have begun to recede for not getting the proper nutrition, my insides start feeling like a sharp scrapping knife is being run up and down from just behind my sternum to my mid-section.

My appearance is such BECAUSE I have never been a substance abuser-- and I have never used anything. So I may appear healthy, until you take a deeper look. Not something most people are comfortable doing. So they look at me without actually looking. So I drink a lot of water. I block out food as much as possible and forget about it. Your body becomes accustomed to not eating. Because I respect myself and others too much, I don’t look or smell like the insides of a trash can. This continues to pose problems in seeking assistance. Because I don’t look the part, smell the part or present myself as a walking trash bin, or engage in substance abuse, I’m readily denied any type of assistance. You’re left with the empty gnawing inside when Hunger Strikes.

The incredible bus drivers I’m blessed with taking bring more heart and humanity into my life at the deepest level, letting me know my presence DOES matter and some people DO care, keeps me going. Something I’m truly grateful for.




By Renee Bowen
Homeless Since Sept. 1, 2000
© All Rights Reserved 2006

In Hunger's Wake

~ In Hunger’s Wake~
Falling Upwards, Part 2;
A Life From The Streets



The high price we’re forced to pay for those of us without the luxury and privilege of being surrounded by those four precious walls and a solid roof over our heads, aside from being accosted, is the ever-present gnawing hunger eating away at us from the inside-out.

Some trying to fill the endless void through alcohol and drugs, but merely cover the pain and the pangs of a stomach sitting empty too long, for only the briefest of time, so more is consumed, and the cycle begins…

We’re denied access to food because we don’t have the high paying jobs required in order to be ‘allowed’ to eat. We’re told we cannot eat unless we’re “working for it, we can’t just give you food”. Your life and livelihood are completely discarded when you’re homeless, quite literally and physically on the cold hard streets, disabled and have no means to put a roof over your head, much less the means to purchase that very essential ingredient called food.

The very rights we’re supposed to be guaranteed are taken away because we don’t have the means to ‘purchase’ them. The right to food, clothing and shelter are viewed and treated as ‘special privileges’, not as our basic, essential rights required to live! The state insists on denying food to those of us that don’t have the means to get the food elsewhere. The ones who make and earn the big bucks are the ones given, fully and completely, the benefits and services on silver-platters, along with all the trimmings—

The more in need an individual is, the less they will receive of even the bare necessities (of life), like food and water! Then they wonder ‘why’ so many on the streets are in such poor health-- Those of us still above ground, that is.

They have no problem giving food to those that don’t need it, but readily refuse to give it to those who do. That’s probably WHY so many turn to the drugs and alcohol; trying to block-out that ever-present empty gnawing eating you from the inside. Compromising our health, jeopardizing our lives. Having to watch as everyone eats all around you. The cruel irony unfolding before you…

When you’re forced out on the streets, society turns a cold shoulder and deaf ears to those of us in need. Eye contact is always averted as we become invisible to their warmth and humanity, then transformed in their eyes to the trash and debris so easily discarded and left by the wayside.

Having no viable income, or roof over our heads, we’re not given the ‘privilege’ of being allowed to live and breathe as human beings, much less allowed ‘to be present in society’.

We’re denied the key elemental ingredients of life~ Not offered or given food, health care, the warm embrace of love; but instead we’re given intolerable, hostile attitudes, ugly talk, violent and rude behaviors, desolation~ Yet, we’re supposed ‘to get used to it, since this is what “we deserve”’.

Being so openly exposed to all the elements, the illnesses people pass to us from their colds, flues and other viruses-- Compromising our health even further. But that’s right, our health doesn’t count, our lives don’t matter—

Why is it when that roof and those walls are taken from your life, your life is suddenly taken from you and your presence is no longer welcomed? (in society???) We are still the SAME people, still the SAME person; it’s only our living arrangements and circumstance that have changed. But the moment that roof is taken away we’re treated so horribly and shown nothing but contempt-- WHY?????

What have we done to elicit such treatment, such responses? Why do people stereo-type us so severely, when they don’t even want to bother to find out why we’re there? But then, that would mean that they would have to get close enough to us to ask, to actually ‘talk’ with us, and since we’re considered so very contagious from this nasty, infectious d-i-s-e-a-s-e we somehow acquired the moment we were put on the streets, people are too afraid they’ll ‘catch it’, so they don’t come close enough to find out, unless it’s to show their true colors, which is not a pretty site to behold.

Paying the price of what others do TO you. Your life is ripped apart as you become everyone’s target-- Your information and, ultimately, your life, taken by force, stolen from your person, then used against you and YOU’RE the one charged and held responsible for their actions. Your life dismissed as inconsequential, so people can do whatever they choose knowing they will walk away Scott-free and not be charged in any way, shape or form to take and destroy someone else’s life-- Using our information, our lives as their own.

Cops are more than reluctant to make out any reports when you are not seen as real, much less of importance. They don’t want to ‘waste their time on those that aren’t “Solid Upstanding Citizens” in their eyes’. And those of us on the streets aren’t seen as citizens, but rather the lowest form cast (out) from society, from life…

When you no longer have a solid roof over your head, your rights are no longer afforded to you, much less even acknowledged, in any capacity.

These so-called programs in place are NOT geared toward actually helping those in need, but rather used as a sort of punishment for NOT being gainfully employed and contributing to society in a positive and effective manner. The less you have, the more you are penalized for it!

Most of us on the streets are NOT out here by choice, we didn’t ‘CHOOSE’ to be homeless, have our homes taken from us. But, unfortunately, it’s where the majority of us are forced to stay-- The longer you’re out here, the less likely you will ever see a roof over your head again, much less having the safety and security it affords you. You are on constant vigil, 24/7, never knowing if and when you can safely close your eyes to get even a little rest-- Will you still be alive to re-open them?

Being surrounded by nature’s beauty and man’s fury, a volatile and harsh combination. Animals have become my solace, my confidants, my companions-- They surround me, alert me, keep me warm on the coldest nights, give me a reason to face another day, another night! They lift my spirits and share my pain. They make life bearable in an unbearably cruel world—

They are my shadows and closest friends. They are the ONE good thing that has come from being put out on the streets! I’ve also had the opportunity of meeting some truly incredible people that I might not have been fortunate enough to encounter otherwise; both on the streets as well as those rare few who are not that have brought the warmth of humanity, however briefly, back into my life, along with an added glimpse of HOPE~

Life is a continual flux of catch-22’s. You cannot get a job without having a roof over your head; you cannot get a roof over your head without a job. No one will hire those who need the jobs in order to better our circumstances, better our lives because of their prejudices and skewed mis-conceptions toward those of us on the streets-- They don’t want their ‘businesses to become tainted and soiled by our presence’, and thus run their customers off.

Food has become a precious luxury, a commodity to be bought and sold, not something seen as the essential and required need to sustain life. And for that life-sustaining resource called water, we’re left to our own devices. Forced to drink the metallic, rusty and sulfuric/chlorinated crap they actually refer to as water from the dismal drinking fountains that the birds use for their discretions. This ‘water’ doing more harm than good to our health, with the several thousand chemicals dumped into it everyday, claiming ‘they are treating the water’, when they are the ones the water needs protection from. They are the ones polluting the water with their very ‘treatments’.

Food-- That precious commodity not afforded to those who need it, but an essential ‘luxury’ we’re readily deprived of—

When Hunger Strikes…..



By Renee Bowen
Homeless Since Sept. 1, 2000
© All Rights Reserved 2006

Falling Upwards

Falling Upwards:
My journey up from the Streets
Feeding yourself from the inside-out first,
Moving up from the Depths of Despair!
A life from the streets;



Learning to stay above ground when the only other option is to be 6 feet under.


One of the most difficult tasks I have to face each and every moment is to remember to breathe each morning, and every moment throughout the day and night. The pain of just being in the present moment, the dawning of reality as it presses into my consciousness, like a whirlpool slowly being sucked down into the depths beyond the drain…..

The endless nights of being constantly harassed by the cops just because I don’t have the luxury of having a solid roof over my head. My integrity is always questioned for this very reason. Anything that needs to be reported in any sense, when something happens, is completely brushed aside, nothing said is taken seriously, no matter who stands behind everything you say. You are booted out of the room so they can question your integrity, then dismiss the reports just the same, after all, everyone on the streets asked to be out here, to have their home and sense of security taken from them so they could spend hellish nights being accosted by 2 legged animals of the human variety, as well as the assorted insects that invade your body, as you become their meals, leaving their marks.

People have this notion that if you are on the streets, then you are no longer human, no longer have the capacity to speak honestly, since everyone ‘out here’ is considered CAzY, and out of their minds, only talking gibberish and we are begging for something to happen to us. Just the fact of being on the streets, your discounted as being a human being, where you no longer have any rights, all your civil liberties are taken away, your privacy is a thing of the past of even the most intimate things you have to do, your life and all the details are now fully on the screen for the public to view so they can humiliate and de-humanize you in their lowest form.

Seen as ‘Society’s Disease’ that people believe they will catch if they show their humanity or treat you as a person. Because if they do, that means the same thing could happen to them, and that is just too close to home, so they go out of their ways to distance themselves as much as possible from those of us that don’t have the privilege of having a roof over our heads. People go out of their way to make your life even less tolerable through their ugliness, which comes fully out—truly showing their true colors. Not being treated as a person, much less, someone who actually breathes. People bring forth their ugly talk and violent actions, saving it all up just so they can explode at you. They are more than rude. They make it their life’s ambition to dehumanize and demoralize and degrade you in every unimaginable way.

Treating you like you came from the gutter debris, kicking you to the side, pushing you down, spitting all over you, being extremely graphic and nasty, taking by force anything they possibly can, even more so when it is on your person, and no one does a damned thing! Not a thing. The response, if any, is always ‘””” what do you expect putting yourself out here ’”””, like this is truly a choice I made, much less happily made. People are at their absolute worst toward you when you don’t have that precious luxury of being surrounded by four walls and a solid roof.

Yet, they treat you like a contagious disease that they are certain to ‘catch’ should they be the least bit human toward you. Because if they did that, that would mean the same thing could happen to them. And that is just too much for so many to deal with, facing their own mortality. We are seen as beneath them, not worthy of their precious time. So they are their meanest, and most violent toward those of us on the streets to protect themselves. They believe if they are so horrible to us, then that makes them much better protected from ever catching this ‘disease’ they are so afraid of. People are afraid of what they don’t know and what they don’t understand, but are real quick to make judgments and assessments about someone they see that doesn’t fit into their narrow-minded world. Why do we scare people so much? Why are they so afraid of those who have nothing, but our integrity & Self, which is stripped down to the barest threads and even then they want to eliminate those threads from our life, which they see as nothing more than worthless.

And it seems the longer you are out here, the more violent and aggressive people are toward you. Then I have to wonder ‘why’ I have to remember to breathe, remind myself throughout the day to breathe, what is so automatic to most, is a daily challenge for me. Breathing has never been natural for me. And something I have almost come to regret these past nearly 5 years that I have been on the streets.

Because I choose to respect myself, I have NOT received ANY kind of assistance since being put out here. I’m told ‘I just don’t fit the part, I don’t smell the part; look the part in any way, so I couldn’t possibly be “homeless”’. I have even been told that I was the W R O N G color to be homeless. I have had nothing but doors repeatedly slammed shut in my face because I go out of my way to be presentable, no matter how long it may take just to get cleaned up for the day, which at times, has been all day just trying to find some place(s) I can use. A lot of times you have to divide your cleanup into a full-out event. Find one place to brush your teeth, another to wash your face and body (usually separately), another to change, and yet another to brush and wash your hair. Who would have thought that going out of your way to be clean and presentable would work against you???

But I refuse to compromise myself any further than I have already been forced to do. I won’t lower my Self to the gutter to receive only the most dismal of assistance, nor will I allow my life to be ripped apart and torn to shreds again just to be able to eat, the rarest commodity. My life is NOT an open display for all to dissect and dispose of!

People believe anyone on the streets are put their specifically for their enjoyment to do whatever they choose to do to us, because it’s their ‘given right’ and duty—then they can rid society of this nasty ‘infectious disease’ and gloat about their accomplishment for the good of humanity.


By Renee Bowen
Homeless Since Sept. 1st, 2000
© 2005 All Rights Reserved