The Breaking Dawn... 23 Years and Counting

 

The Breaking Dawn...

23^rd Anniversary of Living on the Streets...

A Time.... To Reflect

The start of this Century was the Beginnings of a

Journey I never wanted to take, much less be on for the

rest of my life, as a Permanent Resident of the Streets...

The harsh realities of living on the streets, outside, without

a home, is a test of true endurance. Most cannot withstand

the heavy, rigorous life shredding reality that living on the

streets presents... that is why most break with reality.

They just snap into themselves, and can no longer

trust their brain, as it betrays them in the most

devastating ways that are truly unimaginable,

until you are directly in the midst of it.

The harsh rigors of living in the Raw 24/7 eats away

at your heart and soul, taking a tremendously hard

toll on your body, your health and your life.

You must have a strong foundation and foundational core,

or you will crack hard and splinter in ways that can never

be mended and healed again. At the breaking point is

the start of where insanity truly begins. I have seen it

happen and witnessed when the point

of no return unfolded.

Living on the streets, you must be able to bend and

move within the restrictive constraints street life forces

upon you. But the majority are not able to adjust to the

harsh reality of being on the streets and turn to any

methods they can to suspend that reality by using and

abusing drugs, alcohol, smoking cigarettes, pot and

assorted other life destroying substances

and inhaling methods.

Mentally, Physically, Emotionally, Spiritually.... you need

to care for you, every part of you, living on the streets, to a

much greater degree than when you are supported with a

physical home that offers safety and protection, because

that is not there outside in the open where everything

and anything can, and often does, happen without

warning.

Living outside leaves you vulnerable in every

regard, and your body has been turned inside out

like a live wire. You live in Survival Mode, 24/7,

every moment of every day, and night without end.

We are used regularly as people's target practice just

for being present and visible. And our very presence

brings out the worst of the worst of humanity,  with 

rare exception, while our very presence has

 become a crime for not having a home.

Not welcome wherever you are, or where you go,

and cannot be where you are. Unlivable lives merely

existing where you are not allowed to BE and

have nowhere to go.

Out in the elements with no protection, all the bugs

greedily feeding on you through the night, using

you as their personal buffet, anytime, leaving their

marks like tattoos all over your body.

Facing this for a few days is taxing, but having to face

this for not just days on end, or weeks on end, or months

on end... but when you are facing this Permanently,

as the days, weeks, months and years turn into DECADES

and your daily diet consists of this, it does affect you, in

absolutely everything you do and how you do it.

It not only affects your thoughts, your body, your

health... but consumes your entire life. Living on the

streets embeds into every fiber of your being like

a Cyborg, where the streets literally

become who you are.

Your edges harden and sharpen, you learn to stop

reaching out to others for help or support, especially

when it comes to the so-called “Service Providers”,

who are there in name only. They receive massive

amounts of funding to help those outside, without a

home, without the safety or protection of having a

solid foundation... But only “help” those who

choose to destroy their lives through substance

abuse, nicotine, narcotics, alcohol or are illegal

immigrants or have dependent children.

They are not there for those of us that do not fit into

their narrative of who can and will receive “help”.

That is why, decade after DECADE, the Outdoor

arena remains my living space. I do not drink, or smoke,

or use or abuse drugs, I am not an illegal immigrant

and have no dependent children. As the chasms widen

further and extend farther away, I have fallen

further and deeper through the cracks.

I never developed, or even made the attempt to try,

any of the life destroying habits that so many choose

just to receive the most dismal of "assistance”. I have

never been an experimenter with my body or my

health. No drugs, no drinking, no smoking of any

kind, no tattoos, no body piercings, no hair dyeing,

perming, straightening, bleaching, coloring... I have

never fit the paradigm through any stage of life.

And I never have and never will fit the paradigm

of the stereotypical, commercialized version

of what homeless individuals are supposed

to look like, be like, act like or smell like.

So living through, or rather still existing, around the

periphery of life as my 23^rd anniversary of being

forced to live on the streets has circled

back to another year.

Not an anniversary I have ever wanted to experience,

and not one that should have ever happened, but

did and the years continue to add up.

Twenty-Three years in this Century.... and

twenty-three years (...and counting) of life

without a home that all started by and through

the illegal actions of a despicable landlord that I

have been forced to pay the price for.

Life on the streets...

A Challenging Life, to

say the least

 

An Anniversary that never should have been...

September 1, 2015 marked an anniversary that never should have been, and should not have even seen a single one come about, much less the 15 I have now endured being forced to live on the streets.  I cannot begin to describe what being out here for so long does to a person.  Experiencing the absolute worst of life, and the deepest underside of Humanity; that has been less than HUMAN toward me than you could imagine, in its many brutal and cruel forms, all because of a circumstance I never chose, but have been forced to endure, from and by the illegal actions of a despicable landlord in the city of Alameda.

Being readily refused and repeatedly turned away for the service and assistance that I need, finding myself going in circles, trying to find a semblance of the "so-called help" that is supposed to be so readily available.  Not something I have ever experienced.  All of the places that are supposed to offer the help and support they purport, is nothing but a cruel joke, and has caused more harm than anything else.  Where the staff in these horrible places referred to as "Shelters", who are the worst offenders, cause harm to your person, becoming extremely abusive, both verbally abusive and physically violent with you and toward you, only causes more damage, in the truest sense, but offer no help at all.

I've been repeatedly told that I have been out here too long to receive the services offered.  That the services are only there for the ones who are on the brink of becoming homeless, or ones who have immediately become homeless.  Even churches and emergency centers that I was told to contact, have barred my number with the text message across the screen, "This number is for EMERGENCY CALLS ONLY", when I have contacted them to see what services they offer.  Apparently, being forced to live on the streets for more than a decade and a half is not viewed as an "Emergency". 

The programs in place now, were nowhere around when I was forced out to the streets, but continue to deny me the help I need because I do not fit the parameters for who they will help, and when.  So countless doors are slammed shut in my face at every turn. 

So another year has gone by, as so many before, and the chasm only widens, becoming so huge, you can no longer tell where it began, but pretty sure you know where it ends.  I never chose to be forced from my home all because I refused to "Service" a horrible landlord-- SO, I was forced out, illegally, and given the worst life sentence in the process, for just being present.  A very punishing life sentence, that is wholly consuming, and one that tears you to shreds, time and again.  Your life becoming nothing, as your presence is no longer welcome.  Discarded to the wayside quicker than trash.

So where do you turn when there is nowhere to turn?  The echoes of life growing dimmer with each passing moment spent out here by another's actions.

Faith, hope, and love are no longer apart of my life.... no longer exist, the last spark of which have long since evaporated..  They are just vestiges of a former life that no longer holds any meaning when your life is on the streets.  And September 1st marked my continuing life sentence imposed on me when I was forced out to the streets 15+ years now, to live, or rather, merely exist around the periphery of Humanity, of Society....of LIFE. 

As this will be my 16th Holiday and Winter Season on the streets, days hold no meaning, life.... no purpose.  And no matter what I do or where I go, help is nowhere to be found, especially not when you are clean, are not chemically dependent, have never done drugs, never drank, don't smoke, or their brand of CrAzY.

I wonder time and again, why I was ever born.  Is this all my life is supposed to be for????   To be on the receiving end of Humanities' Ugliness, year after year?  Has my life ever mattered?  I get the answers in the long stretch of nothing-ness that my life is now, living on the streets.  Every Birthday, Holiday, or any other day of the year, spent alone, and unwelcome wherever I go.  So why am I here?