Life.... takes on a whole new meaning, and the levels of meaning change when you are forced to a
life on the streets. Each morning I wake, that is, if I was given the chance to get the slightest bit of rest, and wonder anew why I am here. To serve what purpose, really? When life has lost any and all meaning years back, when hope was still a sparkle that could happen, that has long since gone by the wayside.
Breathing, and remembering to breathe, each moment, and through every minute throughout the day and night. They say there is a "purpose" to everything, but having to live and breathe on the streets every moment of my life..... where is the purpose there? And to be continually and readily denied my existence, the help and assistance I need, nowhere to be found. So where is the purpose of being forced to live, or rather barely exist along the periphery of society... of humanity, on the streets being denied my rights because of circumstance not of my choosing, but forced to endure, nonetheless....?????
Purpose? I have yet to find what purpose is meant by living on the streets, having to do all of your personal business in the wide open forum and theatre with a full attending audience in front of humanity, in the deepest sense. Your privacy ripped to shreds, time and again. When you have nothing to look forward to, no one to share your time, or days with. No one truly caring how you are, mentally, physically, emotionally..... spiritually. It takes a devastating toll on your person, on your heart, on your soul in ways that can never be healed. The things you are forced to endure because of the illegal actions of a landlord that put you out here.... the unbearable underside of humanity cast your way because your "home" has an endless roof overhead.
When you are put outside to live on the streets, your life as you knew it, is no more. Learning to survive not only the harshest extremes of weather, but the cruel, heartlessness of society. Echoes of what life used to be like is erased and becomes more corroded over in rust, as you begin to harden more and more on the inside just to face the next day, and night. Reminding yourself to keep B R E A T H I N G, but to what end? More than 15 years spent in mere existence on the streets, going into my 16th Holiday and Winter Season this year. And it never gets any easier to face another day out here, but rather pulls me further down into the unfathomable depths of no end.
I no longer try connecting with others, as people, for the most part, have really turned me away from life, and off from people. No longer a fan of this thing called L I F E, or excited about another day, another night, especially when it is spent on the streets......But I readily connect with my furry and feathered friends that share my nights with me, and welcome me into the folds of their space. Spending so much time in nature has afforded me the chance to become closer to nature and her beautiful creatures, than I ever have been to a single person. They are my closest companions, and confidants. They are who I share my passions with, the ones I have connected to, and the ones who have openly accepted me. They have never condemned me, criticized me, ridiculed me, made fun of me, laugh at me, or any of the other uglier things that people have done and continue to do whenever they are near me.
Being a physically challenged female living on the streets has it's own challenges to contend with, that male counter parts do not. So I force myself to keep breathing, in and out, day-in, day-out. I literally have to remind myself to breathe and keep breathing just to get through the day, and every day that follows thereafter. Something that should come so naturally is something that I am very aware of and have to remember to do so....... wondering why I bother.
