Turning Bad Luck into a Fine Art....

Bad Luck......


......as the saying goes, "If it weren't for Bad Luck, there would be no Luck at all".  And that truly sums up my life right there.   I have found that turning Bad Luck into a Fine Art Form to be my true calling in life.  The only thing that has ever been consistent in my life has been Bad Luck, in one form or another.   I have never once felt or experienced that love affair with Life that most do.  It has never been in my life.  Always a part from life, but not a part of life.   Perhaps because I was forced down the wrong path since birth, my birth.   Not given a choice as to where I was heading....  I had plans for life.  A lot of plans, none of which have ever come about, since LIFE got in the way of living.

One thing I always wanted to do when I was little, was to help people.  I still do.  And I wanted to be a Detective.  But due to health issues, that dream was denied.  So many other dreams have been denied since then.  But I never stopped dreaming.  My dreams haven't changed, even though life itself has continually changed, and not always for the better.  

My dreams of having a home, a real H O M E, where I could finally fill my own kitchen with good, healthy food where I could make, prepare and store food; sleep in my own bed where I could finally get the rest and sleep that my body has been readily denied for nearly 2 decades because of a forced circumstance not of my choosing; to finally have my own bathroom where I could do my private business in private instead of always in front of a large audience at every moment..... dreams.  Though, on the rare times that I actually "dream" while in a restless sleep through the night, I can no longer bring forth a dream of having a real home.  But rather, they just become more of street life, in every regard.  The clean-ups in the public restrooms, the constant disturbances through the night from unwelcome 2-legged animals of the human variety, not to mention the cops circling around me.  My waking life and sleeping life are now one in the same..... no distinction.  Street life has literally taken over my life....become every fiber of my being, every breath I take, and infused to the deepest core of my being.   

I can no longer even imagine what a home feels like..... what is it like to be inside, safe and warm and comfortable all night, every night?  What does it feel like knowing when you will eat, what you will eat and how?   What is it like to use a restroom in the privacy of your own home???   I simply cannot fathom what that world is like.  It hasn't been a part of my life for so long, they become just words with no meaning.

When did merely existing along the seams of humanity become what life is all about?