The Carbon Copy Life...

~ The Carbon Copy Life ~

A Life on the Streets...

Life on the streets becomes more of a Carbon Copy of a life, 

Xeroxing copy after copy, day after day, night after night, week after 

week, month after month..... and year after endless year, that 

diminishes a little more after the next copy made, rather 

than a true life of any substance.

The colors, that were once vibrant and alive, now faded like a photo

or article of clothing being left out too long in the sun.

Once you are caught in the Vortex of Street life...

the light at the end of the tunnel has disappeared entirely and 

covered over by the debris of life, where living becomes your next 

breath, next step, next morsel of food, next place of rest....

Living in a dreamland of nightmares that you can never wake from.

I have found that life is not about getting what you want, or what you need, 

it's about destroying who you are and continually taking away from you.

Leaving you depleted and raw, while at the same time, hardened

around the edges and cutting you to the core.

You wonder, time again, why am I here??? To serve what purpose?

What is the point of “life” when you are denied every aspect of life?

Going around in circles, getting nowhere. Each path brings you back 

to where you were, like being stuck perpetually on the hamster wheel, and

no matter how hard you train, run and condition..... you find it matters not

because it is all a moot point, that is taking you nowhere.

Is there a point to it all??? When life was being dished out, I must have not 

been paying attention to the line I got in. Right from the start, I missed 

the line I was supposed to be in. So each and every turn I have taken in 

life has been all wrong. No matter which direction or path I have gone down, 

nothing about it has ever been right, has ever worked out like it should have.

Nothing good has ever really come from taking this path, or that direction.

I have heard rumors that life was supposed to be fun and joyous.... where is this?

Not in any place I have ever been, not in any experience I have lived through.

I have seen good, from a distance.... I have witnessed the rawness of life in 

every regard. I have seen the bad, experienced the worst life has to offer,

and yet I continue to push forward and take another breath, and step in

more directions. The rhythm of life is always present, whether you are

experiencing the good, the bad, or something in between....

life cycles through. I have just never liked being part of that cycle,

not in terms of life that I have been here to live, if one could really call living and 

merely existing along the seams and edges of society truly a “life”. Living on the

streets, you are not part of the whole, even though we are all “connected”, 

there is little to no connection in the truest sense. For example, if and when

anything happens; which it has and does on a regular basis, I have no one to call, 

no one to be there, no one to listen. Just to have someone there to check

in on you, see how you are.... but the only ones who “check” on me,

are always the cops, usually after someone has

called in on me for just being present.

The only one I have ever truly had to talk to is my notebook... it is always

there for me, and I unleash it all to it. Once I have released all the build up,

it opens me to more of life, in whatever capacity that life may be. Writing has

always been and continues to be my outlet for LIFE.... and all that happens in it.

Everything I experience, everything I go through, is penned or keyed until it is

no longer pressing so hard to be released, in some form or another.

Also, reading is another drug of choice that allows and affords me to release,

but in a different way. I cannot read without always learning something

along the way, through the measure of words. So reading is not a mindless

activity for me, as some read to do. It brings ideas and thoughts

more to life, and add to my own.

But both, reading and writing, give me the ability to process this thing

called life my way... and in the end, that is really all it is about.

Process life in a way that you can bring substance to.