In Residence on the Streets.... Thanskgiving 2018

Thanksgiving.... 2018

In Residence of Life on the Streets

Once more, the Holidays are settling upon us and the end of the year is

closing in quick. Another year of life on the streets, and another Holiday Season

underway, and experienced again, on the streets. Another gathering of a good

stack of books from the library in preparation for reading through the Holidays.

When you live your life on the streets, Holidays take on different meaning.

Usually, they are just another day in the life on the streets, with the exception

of having a more challenging time finding places to cleanup, since more

places are closed, and more often than not, parks that have a restroom, are closed.

Not the parks themselves, but usually the restroom remains locked.

So cleanup is generally taken place at drinking fountains, if the fountains

have not been turned off for the season. But living on the streets,

you learn to adapt to circumstances well beyond and out of your control.

And you learn how to navigate the choppy waters of life on the streets. You

become an expert at adapting, through constant change and the forever

unknown in every moment of the day and night.

But when it comes to Holidays, it can be at times, some of the Best times

you experience, and at the same time, some of the Worst times imaginable.

Balancing the two is never an easy task. The feelings of abandonment

tend to flood through your thoughts, as memory brings back snippets of

Holidays past.... sometimes good, heartfelt feeling emerge, and then some not

so good, that bring you down the rabbit hole. This year has brought a mix

of everything. But overall, this has been one of the

worst years I have experienced.

The assault of searing, burning pain ripping through my body at every moment,

continues to increase and takes my focus away from anything else, and it is interfering

with life, my life, in every regard. What I can do, where I can go is greatly

being hindered by the never-ending pain and discomfort that has always been my life.

Been wondering my whole life when the “Healing” that is supposed to be so

natural and so ready to heal is finally going to kick into gear and begin.

Because it is not working, much like this body I was received in.

Pain makes it all but impossible to really enjoy life.

And unfortunately, pain has been my life's companion since before I was born.

I have much to be grateful for, though.... and I write everyday little things I am

grateful for along the way. But sometimes finding things to be grateful for

when you live 24/7 without a home, and all the challenges faced while living

on the streets, adding to that all the physical stuff I have to contend with,

especially this year that has hit extremely hard, makes it hard to be grateful.

But I am grateful to have slight respites of the onslaught of pain... where at times,

it finally lessens and eases up on the stronghold it has on me, ever so slightly, allowing me a

little breathing room, before it hits harder and takes my breath away, once more.

More things I am grateful for;

– I am grateful I am kept safe through the night, and alerted by the animals
around me when something or someone is making trouble.

– I am grateful to have the means to sometimes cook my own meals,
which makes a tremendous difference on my health.

– I am grateful animals find me as non-threatening and allowing me to stay

in their homes with them. And that they are drawn to me. Because my

feathered and furry friends nourish my heart and soul in ways that

keep me taking another step forward, giving meaning to my days.

– I am grateful to be able to read and write, and both have become like air to me.

– I am grateful to have clothes to wear, and sometimes the means to wash

my clothes at the laundry mat instead of by hand in the sinks.

– I am grateful to have soap to use to stay clean.
– I am grateful for the great thermos I have that keeps hot water and
coffee hot for several hours.

– I am grateful for the hand warmers, and emergency blankets that

keep me warm through the coldest nights.

– I am grateful I can wash my hair in the sink, albeit

in icy cold water.

– I am grateful to have water to drink and the containers to

keep it fresh and safe.

– I am grateful there are libraries around and I am able to utilize them fully.

So there is many things and much to be grateful for,

even when you live on the streets.

Taking the time to recall and reflect on all you have to be

grateful for, you find more to be grateful for.

This Holiday Season is my 19^th one on the streets... each one turning more

and more into a mirror of the ones before. Carbon copies of Holidays Past.

At times, the one thing that changes, is the weather.

Thanksgiving on the Streets.. Just another day in the life.

Battle Scars of Life...

Battle Scars of Life....Living on the streets

Living on the Streets... Gives you battle scars for life.

Life cannot be lived in hate, but only simmered in anger. To truly live in Life,

requires love. But more and more I am finding love.. is something that is in

rare supply when life is lived on the streets. And well into decades of life, or

rather the merest existence of a semblance of life,

on the streets has turned life dark.

The longer I am forced to stew and simmer without the comforts,

safety and warmth of a real home, the darker life has become.

Shadows all I do. And Overshadows every breath I take, every step I take.

Your life is wiped from the system in every meaningful way,

you no longer exist as a living, feeling, breathing human being,

and your basic Human Rights have been brutally torn to shreds.

You are denied your right to Vote when you do not have a verifiable residence;

denied your right to be a citizen in the country you were born into

when you have no home; receiving any and all mail becomes a challenge,

especially when you have to rely solely on the Post Office to hold your mail,

which they toss most of it in the trash, or stamp on it “Refused, Return to Sender”,

without your consent for doing so, as you cannot refuse

something that you never receive.

Life goes dark when you live every moment of your life on the street,

and the light at the end of the tunnel has gone out completely.

Your mind blanks out, and you watch the moments passing you by,

ignoring your presence. You become part of the scenery,

no longer viewed, seen or treated as a person.

The reserves of Hope, Faith and Love that once housed residence

in your heart has become depleted and dry.

Living on the streets, scars you in ways that can never be healed.

They are Permanent and comes through with everything you do.

There is no separation from who you are and life on the streets now,

because life on the streets has become who you are in every regard.

Every breath, every thought, every move revolves around living and breathing

every moment on the street. Dreams.... about life on the street, cleanup... about

life on the street, eating.... about life on the street, sleeping.... about life on the street.

Everything in life has become about life on the street. Every word, thought, deed....

all about life on the street. I can no longer recall what life in a home feels like.

I can no longer recall how it feels to take a shower, having hot water to cleanup in,

cooking in a real kitchen, sleeping on a real bed... or just being able to simply BE.

What would it be like to finally do all I need to in the privacy of my own home??

Things like cleaning up, eating, sleeping.... anything and everything that has

been on the world's movie screen for nearly 2 decades now. What a treasured

blessing that would be.... to FINALLY have the tiniest bit of privacy to do my

most private things that have been fully on public display for nearly half my life.

That is truly one of the dear things I miss completely.... having some form of privacy,

when cleaning up, eating, and sleeping, or doing anything. Because everything I do,

and I do mean ABSOLUTELY everything, has been on public display, every day,

all night long. No matter where I go, no matter what I do.

I cannot even begin to even partially describe what that is like, what it does

to your heart and soul.... and more importantly, what it does to you as a person.

It is truly devastating and alters your life in ways you could

never imagine, and not in good ways.

Days completely disappear and all days become a single day, that never ends.

Dates and days themselves lose meaning. How do you measure time,

when there is no time to measure? You have no one in your life who cares

whether you live, or die, or how you day has been. No one to let you know

you matter and make a difference just by being here. No one

but the cops ever “check” on you.

Perhaps that is why most living on the streets have turned to drugs

and alcohol, smoking and so much more, to help blunt the sharp edges

of life on the streets. Because living without a home, without any meaning

or purpose, and just merely existing around the far periphery of society,

rips you open and sucks you dry. You can only think about where to go next,

what, where and how you will eat, or when. Is it safe to bed down

here for a while? Living on the streets is no way to live.

But it is something I have been forced to do for nearly 2 solid decades.

My life was taken from me the moment that despicable landlord forced me out,

by and through his illegal actions because I refused to service him.

And nothing but doors slammed hard in my face telling me

“I do not qualify” for assistance.

Yeah, a real Meaningful Existence.