Fragments
of a Life...
Fragments of friendship, threads of existence, pieces
left trailing behind. Pieces,
that's what you find yourself picking up every moment from a former life that no
longer exists, when you are put on the streets. You are picking through a
life that happened an eternity ago, picking up pieces here, tidbits there and scraps
along the way... Like a puzzle that no longer fits together.
that's what you find yourself picking up every moment from a former life that no
longer exists, when you are put on the streets. You are picking through a
life that happened an eternity ago, picking up pieces here, tidbits there and scraps
along the way... Like a puzzle that no longer fits together.
The edges have worn off, chewed down and no longer
connect like they once did.
I'm enduring my 12th year on the streets and meeting
with increased harsh
criticism for being out here. People claim I must enjoy being homeless,
because they don't “see” medoing anything to change my circumstance.
criticism for being out here. People claim I must enjoy being homeless,
because they don't “see” medoing anything to change my circumstance.
They say “ I'm not doing anything about my situation”,
Telling me the weather changes
but that I never do. Wish I knew where these people
were getting their faulty
information, because they are grossly misinformed. I invite these people to come with
me through my days, my weeks, my years and see firsthand what I have to go
through and contend with. Then they can tell me I'm out here by choice,
that I enjoy being homeless. But that would mean they would have to widen their
myopic vision. It makes it easier to cast stones when people choose ignorance
over the truth and understanding. They see others getting assistance
information, because they are grossly misinformed. I invite these people to come with
me through my days, my weeks, my years and see firsthand what I have to go
through and contend with. Then they can tell me I'm out here by choice,
that I enjoy being homeless. But that would mean they would have to widen their
myopic vision. It makes it easier to cast stones when people choose ignorance
over the truth and understanding. They see others getting assistance
left and
right, being paid to support their addictions and habits, chemical
dependency,
so I must be doing something wrong!!
so I must be doing something wrong!!
Yeah, by not drinking, or becoming chemically dependent
or a substance abuser,
drug addict and so forth, is what I am doing wrong.
drug addict and so forth, is what I am doing wrong.
I've had several individuals, all well-intentioned, tell
me I need to start doing drugs
so the system will finally give me the assistance they
have readily denied me thus far.
The raw intensity of living with Mother Nature and the
brutal force of man wears on your soul.
Your mind begins to numb after a while, and your body
quickly adapts to whatever
circumstance it's presented with, accepting faster than
your mind will allow.
Your world becomes a void, a them in “society's
movie”, where your life and all the most
intimate details become the feature presentation on the
screen for everyone's viewing.
Your dignity is flushed
down the public toilet. You become a shadow on the wall
with no existence... echoes filling the air with the tired souls cast aside
into a perpetual hell of a forced circumstance.
with no existence... echoes filling the air with the tired souls cast aside
into a perpetual hell of a forced circumstance.
I've been so completely drained on every level during
these past few months,
the harsher criticism in response to words I never wrote but stamped with my name,
making it more challenging to take care of my personal business.
I have learned to become a chameleon and blend into my
the harsher criticism in response to words I never wrote but stamped with my name,
making it more challenging to take care of my personal business.
I have learned to become a chameleon and blend into my
surroundings while on the streets. Like shedding layers of skin, the
threads of your life are pulled apart and shredded until
threads of your life are pulled apart and shredded until
nothing further remains and you feel yourself drying
out from
the inside like cracked cement.
By Renee Bowen
Homeless since Sept. 1, 2000
the inside like cracked cement.
By Renee Bowen
Homeless since Sept. 1, 2000
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