Life....Delegated Elsewhere

Life… Delegated Elsewhere

Living on the streets, you find nothing you do matters (not in the truest sense, anyway)… 

when you go out of your way to help others, in whatever capacity that may be, or taking a breath… 

or not, does not matter. I guess I was always fooling myself thinking otherwise. 

Your life means absolutely nothing when you are delegated to live your 

life on the streets, regardless of how you came to be out here. 

Your every move, your every breath….suspect. 

Your life is delegated elsewhere, just not where it actually matters. Living…. 

What does this truly mean when you merely exist along the seams of humanity, 

but not allowed to be part of it...but always a part from it? Is that what living is 

supposed to be about? You really begin to wonder why you bother to keep 

moving forward, why continue to breathe when Life is Delegated elsewhere. 

Having nothing to look forward to but endless days of more of the 

same….each one repeating like a carbon copy of each one before, and every one thereafter.

When you have no one to share your day with, to share how things are going…. 

Someone to just care, life is truly meaningless. Sure, I volunteer where I can, as often as I can…. 

Which helps to keep me connected and involved, at 

least on some level, but does not fill the empty void left in your heart for a life, 

or rather a mere existence, that is simply not welcome in society.

Aside from the cops, my companions that are always with me, every day, every moment….

 Are notebooks, books, and an array of animals and insects. 

These are what keep me company, day-in, day-out. Meditating in the 

mornings to balance my day and heart with the chaos ahead...

clear out the debris of others’ hurtful words and 

actions toward me. Helps brace for the coming onslaught that is never-ending.

Life becomes rote…. Days repeating and left on auto-pilot as they become routine. 

Each like a carbon copy of the ones before and each one thereafter.

 Living becomes an afterthought while life itself becomes more about survival 

than actual living. And the thing is, as life settles in….it becomes “normal”. 

You actually get used to living, or rather merely existing on the streets,

 living along the edges and perimeter of humanity.

 You find yourself amazed at the speed of which you become “used” to what life brings your way. 

It becomes so common place, you no longer notice it happening, 

or that others don’t experience it similarly. Though I absolutely 

hate being forced to live on the streets, being denied my basic rights, like being

 able to eat real meals, or having a home, or having ready access to showers and hot water…. 

It has become so common place, you quickly adapt to it, 

and life becomes “normal”.

The heat is one of the hardest things and most challenging to deal with on the streets…

.Being outside all day, every day, is like being stuffed in an oven left on high all day. 

You have no access to showers, only the public sinks at the 

park or library, and sometimes grocery stores. 

The rare few places that offered “showers” were nothing but a cruel joke at our expense. 

Giving you a maximum of 5 minutes, total. They did not give you time to clean the gunk and 

debris from all the ones that used it prior, and being physically challenged, 

I was not able to even fully undress before they came pounding on the door 

telling me my time was up….

 My time was up before I ever got the chance to do anything. 

Aside from having no access to showers in the heat, the heat itself is an additional 

weight pressed down on you, which makes it much more challenging to get around, 

breathing is harder and the extensive fluid build up and excessive swelling 

through my knees, legs, ankles and feet that has been my constant companion for 

the better part of my life now, is made much worse in the heat, 

and makes moving beyond challenging.

So where do you go when you have no place to go… unwelcome wherever you are?


 Life….Delegated Elsewhere.