Christmas Hope... 2017

Christmas Hope....2017

Christmas 2017.... Christmas, a time of HOPE, FAITH, LOVE..... and MIRACLES.

When you live life on the streets, 24/7.... it takes a hard toll on your person,

your heart, your faith... Your life and health. It hits every aspect of your life,

in ways you could never imagine. Another Christmas on the streets, quite

literally, being left out in the cold. While being sidelined from my own life.

When you hit rock bottom and get mired in the depths of it....

sometimes kindness and hope seeps in through the most

unexpected ways, and leaves you breathless.

I realize that hope and faith are never truly lost, they just get buried, deeply,

under life's debris... But access to it has been blocked and sometimes

requires outside help to gain access once more. It takes so little..

A kind word or two, a warm greeting, a genuine smile. As these are the

access codes to retrieving hope lost, and restoring the faintest hint of faith.

And the time of year this comes about is Christmastime....

perhaps it is something in the air; the rich vibrancy of frenetic energy,

the smells of seasoned wood burning in fireplaces, cooking.... Or perhaps

it is just that people's attitudes changes a bit toward those

of us out here during this season of giving that restores hope and faith

ever so slightly. It's a Gift that doesn't happen too often. Whatever it is,

it brings the long dormant feelings of Hope, Love and Faith out of

dormancy and to the surface, and becomes accessible.

I still have dreams (albeit very vague, at best) of finally having a real home;

a place where I could finally sleep and get the much needed rest my body

has been deprived of for far too long; a real kitchen to store, prepare,

and cook real food...., a private bathroom to do my personal, very private

things that have been put on and displayed for all the world to see.

But they are nothing more than dreams.

When you need a hand up, not a handout.... because life on the streets is

definitely a life disruptor...… you need help getting back up, not more

things to keep you down, while pushing you further 

down the bottomless hole without end.

Helping is not enabling the preconceived “bad behavior” that those

of us on the streets are automatically assumed to partake in,

when that is rarely the case, in reality. We are people, most of whom

have been forced to live, or rather merely exit without actually

existing, into a circumstance not of our choosing, but having

to make the best of a bad situation.

Having to live every moment of my life on the streets in full view of the

public movie screen, day-in, day-out and every night thereafter....

is certainly a game changer. Being denied the comforts of a real home.....

changes not only how you live and survive, but every one of your habits change.

Personal grooming and hygiene, using the restroom, eating (when you can),

sleeping (if and when that happens).... nothing is private.

Every moment of your life on public display, every breath taken,

every blink of your eyes, every step taken, and

every seat taken to sit and rest for the briefest time.

The only difference between you and “us” is nothing more than our

home environment. We live, we breathe, we feel.... just like everyone else.

Though, because of our circumstance, we are denied living as

most people are allowed to do, and living on the streets ages you decades

in the briefest amount of time, because you don't have the comforts of home....

you are in the elements every moment of the day, and all through

the night, season after endless season. The only ones who card

me now are the cops, though I do nothing to be carded for.... But being present.

So when the Holidays come around, especially Christmas.... those of us

living outside catch glimpses of real humanity.... not much of it, mind you,

but a glimpse that deep down, most people have a heart and they care.

Some of that trickles down to us as you walk past us without

usually even giving us a kind look, or even a warm smile,

much in the way of acknowledgment of any kind,

not in a good, kind way, that is.

But when Christmas comes about-- kindness, warmth, generosity

are more frequent visitors that makes a world of difference.

Even just taking a moment to connect with someone

outside, changes things. It gives us a slight glimmer of HOPE....

that brighter days are ahead, and not all behind us.

Life has a way of never turning out the you wanted... the way you hoped for,

and dreamed about. I never dreamed I would be spending my life

on the streets,.... but after breathing every breath for the last 18 Holiday and

Winter Seasons outside tells me, in a very real sense,

life doesn't care what you want, what has been dreamed

about and longed for for so long.

But there has been a few angels

around me that let me know otherwise, most wearing fur or feathers,

but some upright angels came along my path, as well.

As 2017 comes to a close, I will be so glad to have this year soon to be a

thing of the past. It has not been a kind year, but rather one of the

absolute worst years I have ever experienced. I would be so happy if this

entire year could be erased and never happen. But I will have to settle for it

coming to an end, even if it cannot be erased and forgotten about.

The brief glimpses of humanity, real humanity, that I was blessed to

experience has made this year tolerable.. I have been blessed and deeply

grateful for those rare few that brought love to me out here. So if it had not

been for a select few rare treasures coming into my life this year....

this whole year would have been put on hiatus.

Living Holidays on the Streets... 2017

Living Holidays on the Streets

and every day of the year....2017

Another Holiday Season is here, yet again. Thanksgiving, then followed

very soon by Christmas. Turning this into my 18^th one spent on the

streets, alone. I am thankful for what I have, and that I am safe,

more or less, where I stay.  And thankful to see another

day, week, month and year.... still breathing.

I have to focus on what little good is coming into my life,

otherwise, I would be so overwhelmed with the bad,

it would literally consume my life whole....

I Will likely find some place to Volunteer for a few hours,

just to have some place to BE that is not outside.

I no longer look forward to this time of year, Holiday-Wise,

haven't for a very long time. When you have no place to go or BE,

especially around the Holidays, and when you see and hear about

everyone else having this place to go, and these things to do.....

you can't help but feeling a little left out from life.

And not asked to be part of it, or share in it in any way.  So you find you

have to be your own cheerleader, your own council, and be happy

with who you are, just as you are.  And let go where and when you can.

But that is not so easy when you don' have that much needed support....

that love, that connection that Life is supposed to be about.

So at times, I put life on Hiatus.... and stop engaging with life.

Could be for hours, days, weeks, months, and in some cases.... even years.

That is what being on the streets for so long does to you, changes you

in so many ways, I cannot convey to the extent how much,

only that it does and everything in life.

It changes you as person; a living, feeling, being,

changes your heart, mind, body and soul.

Writing remains my outlet of choice, along with reading volumes of books,

meditating every morning, and most evenings.... just to feel some connection,

which generally presents itself around me in the form of feathers and fur,

wings and song.  Nature plays on my heart like nothing I have ever experienced.

And brings so much comfort and relief to my heart, knowing that

Nature has embraced me with all her beautiful and disturbing

creatures who share my days and nights with me.

An acceptance that has never been experienced

anywhere else, or from anyone else.

This has been the worst decade of my life....2017 one of the worst years,

and I have experienced a few along the way.  Made ever more challenging

by a body that is in constant and perpetual disagreement with itself.

The argument is on-going and I cannot ever remember a time when

there wasn't one. But has increased a 1,000 fold over

having to live without a real home, a real bed, a real bathroom with privacy....

and no place to store, prepare and cook my own food.

Recently, though, that has improved slightly in the way of being able to

cook some foods with a little folding camp stove I recently received.

Which I am deeply grateful to have and be able to use.

Though, I am still unable to store foods.... I am able, little by little,

to do a little bit of cooking, which has made a tremendous difference.

But when the weather turns sour, with the high winds and rains.....

the little stove is not usable. And since I have no shelter and no place out

of the stormy weather, I can only use the stove when weather permits.

Life.... Never once did I ever think that it would be a forced existence on the streets.

But facing my 18^th Holiday and Winter Season outside, still, has shoved that

reality in my face BIG TIME. Holidays and Winter, are just more days

spent on the streets. Meaning nothing more than nasty weather

to contend with, and much shorter days.

But the Colors of Fall.... MY Colors, the colors I wear and have always

brought comfort to my heart and soul seeing the warm glow of

beauty all around me. Though I am no longer a fan of the Holidays,

I am a lover of Autumn; Everything about the Season....

the colors, the cool, crisp air, the smell

of seasoned wood burning in fireplaces.... I just don't care for

Thanksgiving, the day itself, which comes towards the end of Fall.

Living on the streets is like living in some kind of warped dream....

a recurring nightmare that you can never wake from.

Spending anytime of consequence having to live on the streets, takes a hard

pounding to your life, your body.... your mind, and deeply affects your heart.

I can still see a small shadow of life before the streets..... but the

image fades quickly when I try to fully embrace it and feel 

what it had been like.

It is not something that holds any substance.

Just slivers of a dream that you don't want to wake from and

be back in the nightmare reality of merely existing on the

periphery of society, of humanity, … of Life.

A Voided Existence...

A Voided Existence…

Life on the streets…. A Voided Existence. Not seen as a real, living,

breathing, feeling being. But rather viewed and treated as nothing

more than a circumstance. People avoid your friendship, avoid your reaching

out to connect on a level, any level, only to be disregarded time and again,

all because of a circumstance that changes our living

arrangements, but nothing else.

Living on the streets impacts your life in a myriad of ways,

not the least of which is your heart. People are always afraid

of what they don’t understand, but they don’t want to take

the time to do so. Take a close look around, look at the scenery…..

you will notice us if you really take the time to look.

We are people, just like everyone else

on the planet. But that is not what people choose to see when they

look at us without seeing anything but trash and debris,

treating us as such. Sometime, take time to look at us, really see us….

Then take the time to do what most do not; make eye contact,

offer a kind word, or even a friendly and warm “hello”.

Both the giver and the receiver will receive a beautiful gift.

But it all starts by actually taking the time to see the people, and not

the circumstance they find themselves in.

The simple act of just offering a warm friendly greeting benefits

everyone involved. Yet, seems to be the hardest for people to actually do.

If people could donate encouragement, the world would be a much nicer

place to be all around. Imagine what it would be like if people took the

time to consider where and to whom their donations go, when they

donate whether it be to food banks, charities, or shelters…

if they took the time to actually see the recipient of their goods and

services, when the recipient receives the support and encouragement

from items received by and through a note of encouragement that

was included with each of the items.

That would do more good, than the actual donated item.

If only each child were taught and learned that just by being

born, their very presence matters, to life and to the world.

That the world would not be the same without them in it.

That they are valued and their life enhances everyone else’s.

That would be a turning point for the world…. There would no

longer be the massive violence and hate the world over…instead,

there would be compassion, love, and a strong willingness to help

and be involved. Because Love HEALS, where Hate DESTROYS.

Those of us on the street are on the receiving end of HATE in

massive waves, with very little in the way of love

shown to us, for a circumstance we were forced into….

Not one of our choosing. When you hit rock bottom in

all its varied forms….

How wonderful would it be to receive encouragement and support

by a thoughtful message attached to needed clothing or food they

receive from a donation center? Consider adding a little something

in the way of few words of encouragement when you choose to

donate anything in the future, knowing that by doing so you are

sure to brighten someone else’s day that is viewed as being in the gutter,

by society’s standards. See the person behind the circumstance,

and not the circumstance, or set of circumstances, itself.

Let us fill that void of existence that those of us on the

streets are branded and feel on the deepest levels.

An Existence on the Streets... My 17th Anniversary Outside

An Existence on the Streets….

My 17^th Anniversary being outside..

Where there should have never been a single anniversary to face living
on the streets,  today marks my 17^th anniversary of life on the streets.

A mere existence...and wondering how I still find myself breathing, as such as it is.

As I am Heading into my 18^th Holiday Season, and just faced my 16^th Birthday, alone,

on the streets.  Hope; I have no idea what that is anymore.  Faith…. What exactly is that?

Love, does it even exist in this world so filled with violence and hate?

Faith, Hope, Love…. Supposed to be the most natural things in the world….

Become the most unnatural in life.  How do you experience things that do not exist in your life?

Life on the streets… becomes an interminable darkness that fills your heart. 

There is no light at the end of the tunnel…. There is no end to the tunnel.  Your life, your heart and very soul are changed in ways that can never be undone.  A permanent shadow settles over your heart that overshadows
everything else. If everyone working in these so-called places of “assistance” were forced to live on the streets
for even a few days for training, the services and help that those of us out here are denied and refused because we do not fit the role of the stereotype of what a homeless person is supposed to look like, smell and behave like…. There would not be a homeless problem to begin with. And those who actually need the help and assistance would finally receive it. But unfortunately, that is not the way they are trained.  So they impose these “standards of requirements”
for help available for those on the streets. The only way to receive any assistance at all is to
fall into the parameters of substance abuse, alcoholism, smoking, addictions,

having dependent children, be an illegal immigrant or be seniors….

And when you are clean, and do not have any life destroying habits, there is no help at all. 

That is why I am still on the streets after 17 long years…. Still struggling just to survive day by day,
moment by moment. That is why Hope, Faith and Love are not around in my life…..

   I have no hope that I will ever see a roof over my head again, 

not in the truest sense of that word, a real home.

Days and nights have come to be dreaded…. Settling over you like a shroud that cannot be lifted.

The heavy, sludgy stagnant air of the summers are impossible to be in, and made even worse by the
smokers who come right next to you, lighting up and making it impossible to breathe by imposing
their filthy, nasty habit on all around. Giving absolutely no thought or consideration how
their habit affects everyone around them. And when you are extremely allergic to that crap,

smokers make life absolutely miserable for those of us forced to live life on the

streets, lighting up anywhere and everywhere.  Whether they are homeless, or have homes.

I would so love to have them feel what it is like not being able to breathe because someone else imposes
their habit on them, have them feel what it is like having their chest tighten, their lungs burn and constrict
and their throat closing off because of someone else’s nasty habit they force on you…. Perhaps if they were
finally on the receiving end of their filthy habit, they would not be so quick to force that crap down everyone’s
throats.  And most of these people work in healthcare or food service…. Where it literally makes things worse all around. Smokers end up causing more harm than doing any good.  Having your food prepared by a smoker, those nasty fumes infuse the food with the worst flavor in the world, making you ill from it, and in healthcare, you cannot breathe because of someone  else’s habit because the fumes that cling to them tighter than saran wrap..

Smokers believe that once they put out the cigarette, that no one can tell they smoke….

And if you are a smoker, you cannot.  And they do not believe that their filthy, nasty

cloud of fumes even exist.  But when you not only do not smoke, but are extremely

allergic to it….. the fumes come through continuously.  A smell that is ever present and
never goes away once it is there. It makes no difference how long in between cigarettes….. 

  the smell and the fumes are a  permanent fixture, that can never be removed.

Smokers are just one of the many hazards those of us on the street have to face….

Even worse, when those smokers live on the streets, you cannot escape from it. But certainly

one of the absolute worst things we are forced to endure.  Everything else falls to second place and further. 
But smokers top the list destroying our lives. Having our lives and health completely disregarded
by smokers, and by people, overall.  Since homeless have no place to go to get away

from smokers, it matters not where we go, because smokers are everywhere

and growing in numbers more and more.

If you need to go to the store for any necessity, smokers are right at the door, they stand

right outside the door, while their nasty habit fills the store and you are forced to walk through the
cloudy fumes of their habit, leaving it clinging to you…. I would love to live and be able to breathe
fresh, clean air…. But there is no clean fresh air, with so many smokers the world over.

Breathing becomes another challenge to endure. But just another day to endure on the streets.

So the toll of living on the streets is multi-fold. Everyday, the toll rises higher, and the challenges become
greater the longer you are forced to live without the substance of life. 

As Life becomes nothing more than a moot point of existence.

A Veteran of the Streets...

A Veteran of the Streets….

I am a long time veteran…. A veteran of living, or rather merely existing,

around the periphery of life. Due to physical challenges, I was never

allowed to serve in the military, but you do not need to serve in the

armed forces to become a veteran of life.

Though, instead of being honored for my service,

I’m repeatedly told my very presence is illegal. No one would

want the veteran status of living on the streets for decades.

It has long since stopped being days, or months, or even years….

Living Life on the streets has turned into decades, as I have been

forced to live in decades on the streets. Seen as an obtrusion to others,

and a threat, instead of a living, feeling, breathing being.

Anchors drifting in the sea of nowhere. The threads; the barest of threads

at that, fraying more with each passing moment. Life is viewed differently

when you are not part of society, but rather sitting, or in some cases, lying

around the seams of society… we are certainly treated

differently from being part of “regular” society.

I never set out to become a veteran of the streets.

But being readily and continually denied and refused

the services and assistance I need, has forced me to become one.

Much like the military veterans who are denied, year after endless year,

of all the services and assistance they need. So I know the battle of

endurance of going through this screwed up system, one that wants you to just

give up and quit. A lot have done just that. Suicides from veteran’s are

at an all time high, and a large portion of that is being denied their service

and help after returning from war. Not being listened to, not being heard,

being dismissed completely and just plain flat out ignored. It is the same when

your life is lived on the streets; no one wants to listen, you are not

considered “society”, and not clumped in the “Human” group.

But really, given the way the “Human” group acts and behaves….

It is really not a group I want to be part of. It is because of the “Human” group

that the services and assistance needed has been denied and refused.

It is because of the “Human” group that I have been forced to live my life

on the streets. It is because of the “Human” group that I have experienced

hundreds of bouts of food poisoning because of people’s gross non-hygienic

practices when preparing food for others, which some have done purposely.

And their practices have caused permanent damage through my digestive tract,

I am left paying the heavy, excruciating painful price of their actions.

So I am glad not to be associated with the “Human” group.

My veteran status should not be one anyone should be forced to endure

or become a part of. And like military veterans, those of us living out our

lives on the streets…. You lose hope and no longer look forward to life, in any regard.

Just serving your time until your time is up and you are sent “Home”, one way

or another. Being sentenced for a crime you never committed by this “Human” group.

It is truly sad that Veterans on the streets, and Veterans of life living on the

streets are treated in a similar manner. Our voices muted and covered up,

our experiences closer together than not. Experiencing the worst of the underside of this

“Human” group. Humanity…. Where has it gone to? Does it even exist?

When humanity turns their backs on those of us on the streets,

regardless of how we came to be out here, our stories start to mesh together,

blending and becoming a single story, where one starts and another

ends becomes one and can no longer be separated. Our battleground becomes

the streets, and the “Human” group wages war on us daily for the

very presence of our presence that the “Human” group imposed on us.

We live in a war zone all year long.

Being a veteran of life on the streets takes a

tremendous toll on your life, on your heart, on your mind….

And soon ... your body…. Denied the nourishment of life; Love.

So is it any wonder that no one forced to live on the streets, thrives?

How can one thrive when your very existence and mere presence is swept

under the rug; ignored, dismissed, and unwelcome?

Who thrives without nourishment? But that nourishment is kept from

us when life is cast out to lived on the streets. So instead of thriving,

we become hardened inside and out. While our insides corrode on the

deepest levels and seeps into the very core of our being.

Life on the streets changes

who you are as a person, from the inside out.