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.

A Life in Ruins...

A Life In Ruins….

Life on the streets is a different life altogether. It’s a life that is not a life…..

a mere existence. A life without a real home, without the bare necessities,

without privacy, without friendships. There are no home cooked meals,

no hot showers or hot water, no connections, no substance.

Life literally becomes devoid of all meaning.

When you are denied a real physical residence, you are denied

your resident status, and no longer seen or viewed as a

resident of any place, nor a citizen, since not having a home

cancels out and negates your rights in every regard,

according to all the police officers telling you so in their "City Ordinances”.

You become a resident of everywhere, a citizen of nowhere…

A resident of life… Your very presence, you are told repeatedly, is “illegal”.

Just because of a circumstance you never chose, but forced to endure.

Never was there a time that I imagined to be living on the streets.

Never imagined I would have to spend a single night without a home…..

much less nearly two decades that I have been. Life and time changes

completely when your life is lived on the streets, especially when it was

never by choice, but paying the heavy price from the actions of others.

Time stands still, and becomes a single day that never ends,

like the worst Ground Day ever that becomes your recurrent

nightmare that you can never wake from.

Yet, years fly by without notice, what feels like minutes, at most.

Life…. The meaning of which is suspended, if there at all.

Finding meaning or purpose in life, when you are denied your existence….

.your rights, eliminated.

Because I have been denied real sleep, hot nutritious meals….

Hot water to bathe in; The excessive fluid build up and swelling

increases exponentially, and it has taken a harder toll on my digestive

tract and organs…. Being denied the sustaining force of life.

And it clouds my life, in every regard.

Added to the debris of life….. or the lack thereof.

This is truly the worst time to be alive. Being talked about

everywhere I go, being video taped and video monitored every damned

moment of every day. And now jerks taking to spying on me using

their drones, where they come right over, and hover directly above me,

watching my every move. That is truly unsettling having a

drone follow your every move even into the restroom,

while it circles the windows all around.

Just not a good time to be present. Makes for a very unpleasant

experience all around. Fully exposed and on public display 24/7….

constantly under surveillance, yet entirely non-existent

in terms of receiving assistance and companionship.

A life forced into the streets and the after affects of having to merely

exist along the seams of Humanity… Life disintegrating all around me…

the most damaging and harmful things on the planet; people.

The worst things I have ever encountered, with a few rare exceptions.

And my body bringing about an ever-greater devastation….

The valve that is supposed to hold and stop bladder leakage,

has stopped working entirely, if it has ever worked at all.

Now, it just releases whenever it chooses and I don’t know about it

until it is already mid-stream and I feel it spreading across and

down my legs…..and not to mention the excruciating burning

that has taken pain to an all new level that is truly life destroying.

I cannot absorb this pain…. It grossly interferes with every

aspect of my life, including every breath I take.

Life is interfering with living.

Birthday Reflections ... 2017

Birthday Echoes….

Reflections of Life on the Streets

Another birthday today, August 15^th …Mine. Marking this my 16^th one on the streets.

Being put out on the streets just a couple weeks after my birthday on September 1, 2000...
so this is Heading into my 17^th year of life living, or rather merely existing along the seams
of humanity, on the streets, and this Holiday Season of 2017 will mark my 18^th one

having to it endure it on the streets, once more.

Another birthday, more echoes from the past.  And this past year

has been one of the roughest I have endured, especially in terms physically.

It’s just another day on the streets, though, and wondering if it is a day

that has ever actually meant anything. 

This year has been much harder to contend with because of the

excessively excruciating deep burning that continually sears through my chest

as though I have swallowed gasoline followed by a lit match, while scalding liquid

is poured down my throat and hot coals placed down my chest as a flame thrower shoots up

and scorches through my digestive tract from my stomach.  That is a direct result of employees'

actions from not using proper hygiene when making and preparing other people’s food,

who have no other option for eating other than prepared foods because there is no kitchen

to make, prepare, cook and store your own foods, so you have to rely on the food prep done by others.

Never knowing if the preparer practices good hand washing

before making food for others.  But more often than not, that is not the case,

as I have literally seen dozens of employees returning to work after using the restroom….

And never touch the sink to wash their hands.

Adding more insult to injury.  Nearly half my life has been lived on the streets….

and it is truly no way to live.  Your life becomes meaningless, and purposeless.  Living in extreme

pain 24/7 beats the hell out of you, while life itself takes cares of the rest. 

A Birthday is supposed to be a “Celebration of Life”, but this is not a life to celebrate,

not in the truest sense of that meaning.  Really hard to find much of anything to celebrate,

much less a day that marks a birth that was never welcome to begin with. 

My Birthday Wish…..

just something I can no longer even dream about; a Real Home. 

Something that offers warmth, comfort, security, peace of mind and

most important… PRIVACY.  When your life is lived on the streets, makes no difference how

you got there, you find privacy is a cruel joke.  It does not exist when your life is lived in public, 24/7. 

And it matters not what you need to do, it is all viewed on the biggest networks on the planet.

So my birthday wish…. A Life that Matters, a Purpose and Meaning to my existence that extends

beyond the streets where my life has been delegated to for an indefinite sentence all because I

refused to “service” a despicable landlord who forced me onto the streets

by and through his illegal actions.