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.