The Worst Decade...

The Worst Decade….

More than halfway through nearly 2 decades on the streets, 

and these last few years have been the worst of my life. 

Along with all the physical stuff I have to contend with throughout my

 life due to the actions from others; the debilitating pain

 that coarses (intended spelling, as in rough, not fluid) through 

my body at every moment, the deep ache in my arms from the 

shoulders down to my fingers, the way my knees feel like they are

 being severed and continually butchered, the constant fluid build up

 and heavy swelling from just above my knees to the bottoms of my feet, 

which both legs and feet dent and impress upon with any and

 all contact with any material, or even leaning against a table leg, 

a bag or any other structure or material …leaves a deeply bruised 

feeling for days afterward, along with the indents into my legs that remains.... 

(and the perpetual feel of live wires covering my legs)...

Pitted edema, is what the medical community calls the deep swelling 

and fluid build up that is ever present, and prevents my knees from 

bending fully, that cause my legs to buckle and swing from side to 

side as I walk, not to mention all the rest I have to contend 

with every moment of every breath taken …

...now to add insult to injury... The constant deep burning through my chest,

 throat and stomach that feels like scalding liquid being poured down my throat continuously while at the same time, feeling like a flame thrower is being 

shot up from my stomach and then hot coals placed down my chest, and feels like gasoline is being poured non-stop down my throat followed by a lit match.

 Nothing has eased, or soothed the deep pain of the sharp burning, 

the intensity of which is so far off the charts. It started several 

years ago as a direct result of an employee not washing their hands after 

using the restroom and then coming out to prepare food.

I have experienced hundreds of bouts of food poisoning because of the

 ill prepared food by employees who choose not to wash their hands after 

using the restroom. It has happened so much and with such ferocious 

high frequency, it has left a permanent echo of always feeling like my

 insides will purge itself out, turning itself completely inside-out,

 and feeling the purging will erupt at the slightest movement (and has),

 always lingering and never fully leaving me in peace. It has tore up my 

system entirely. Never knowing if what I eat will stay down, or cause trouble.

 Food now, has to be very bland. The only food I have found that

 does not cause any issues, are bananas…. 

But even then, they have to be firm, not overly ripe.

The Wrong Path...

Since birth, my life has been all wrong. More and more of 

the bad has been infused in my life, coming my way with higher 

frequency. The list is growing and increasing, 

and coming closer together. The Universe and Life itself is

 screaming that my life is wrong, that the path I was sent down

 has been in the wrong direction,

 going the wrong way at every turn and bend in the road.

 All the physical things that have been going on with me,

 not only in my life (an over-abundance of assaults, both verbally 

and physically, being run down (quite literally) by people 

running lights and paying no mind to stop signs, accidents 

abounding of every kind (one on top of the other until the 

stones are too high to account for)

 but in my body, as well.

And yet, not once, have I ever been given direction elsewhere...

I have experienced the absolute worst of life…. Time and time and time again.

So, How do I go down a different road, moving in a different direction, 

when there is no support, no assistance of any kind that I have 

been able to find? How do I change course when I am repeatedly 

denied and refused the help I need? Where do I start? Life was 

never meant to be languished on the streets, but that is exactly 

where I have been forced to be for nearly 2 solid decades now. 

How do I find the Healing Path that will be the 

direction I am meant to be on?

So where is this invisible road that I was to take, but is nowhere

 to be seen?  How do I go about finding it? In some kind of parallel universe 

where the portal is hidden between platform 9 and 10.... accessing

 that 9 and 3/4 area has eluded me entirely.

Life....it becomes a habit that you are unable to break.

Yet, there has always been a gross disconnect in life... 
never part of it,but always a part from it.

Fallen by the wayside, time and again...when you are forced to

barely exist around the seams of society, life goes by the wayside,

passing you by and never once being offered a lift along the way.

A lifting hand, a hand UP, not a handout is what I need.

It is what everyone truly needs at one time or another.

But few, if any, ever take the time to offer that simple hand.

And that single hand pulling you up can make a world of difference.

So the direction becomes clearer to me the longer I am forced to be 

out here, and that is offering my hand to lift others' up, and making 

sure they are not going to have to endure the life I have had to.

 Sharing my experience with others, and that begins by helping 

those I come across in my path, along my journey living on the streets.

 Not the path I chose, but one that was chosen for me...

We all need and benefit from a helping hand, but no one benefits

 in any true sense when you are only offered hand-outs.

The direction Life is pushing me toward is starting my own nonprofit 

that offers the help and support that has been so readily denied me. 

Because only someone who has truly experienced life on the streets,

 can know what people living on the streets need, in every regard.

Those of us on the streets, become part of the

 landscape, enmeshed in Nature,

but invisible to Humanity.

The discards of human waste...

16 Solid Years.....Another Anniversary of the Barest Existence

An Anniversary of Lifetimes…..on the Streets

I have experienced many anniversaries in my life….. none of which have 

been much to celebrate.  They have included death in many folds, assaults, 

car accidents, and so much more…..   not including the endless anniversaries 

of seeing first one year, then two, three, and on through a full sixteen years now

 being forced to live, or rather merely exist, on the streets.  Around the edges 

and seams of society.  This is not an anniversary to look forward to …… 

Not one I am looking forward to--  16 years of having no home, no place to store, 

prepare, or cook my meals…. But rather having to fully rely on prepared foods,

 which is quite costly. 

And when you have little means to eat, or even the 

barest of necessities of life…it makes that all but impossible when 

you have to purchase food everyday.   Food prices have increased by such a 

huge amount, it makes it truly impossible to eat with any regularity, 

much less healthily and nourishing.   

Meals consist of whatever you have to eat…. Pieces of bread, a slice of fruit, rarely do 

you actually eat a real meal, in any sense of the word when you live on the street.  

I can literally count on one hand how many real meals I have had in 

the time I have spent on the streets…..    and the thing is, 

when your body is continually deprived of the nutrients and

 food it needs in order to survive and thrive, you find that even a couple 

bites of food makes you overly full and unable 

to eat any more.  Then the other factors that most take for granted…..   

sleeping in real beds, that is not something that you have

 when you live outside, and you cannot sleep whenever 

you need to, but wherever you can, as you are forced 

to “make home” wherever you happen to 

be at any given point. 

 Also, when people think nothing of going into their own bathrooms to 

do their very private business…. That is not something you are afforded outside.  

You have to rely fully on public restrooms, and more often than not, the restrooms are closed.  Instead, you are wide open and in full view of the world.  You have no privacy of 

even the most intimate things you need to take care of.   This poses even more issues when you are female and forced to live outside.  There is so much people take for granted, until that is no longer there.  Your life is not yours to do whatever you want whenever you want when you live on the streets, but rather your life is dictated on what you can do, when and how.  

Life on the streets …. Where does one begin……    your guard is always up, you become 

wary of everyone.  Life becomes one of pure survival…..    co-habitating with nature.   

Every moment of your life being monitored just for being present, and always under a

 full audience, no matter what it is you need to do.   At times, you find people actually 

video-taping you because you move in a manner they find so extremely hilarious.  

When you are physically challenged but move in a way that they don’t like, or accept, 

and is well beyond their comprehension, it’s easier to make fun of and laugh at someone, 

instead of taking the time to understand why they move the way they do (which was by 

and through the direct result of others’ actions against me).   I can only hope and pray 

that at some point they receive their own ignorance measured back to them in full. 

To be on the receiving end of their ugliness that they have 

readily dished out toward me for decades.

Another anniversary living on the streets….  This is my 16^th anniversary of

 being outside, deprived and denied a real home, being repeatedly denied the assistance 

I need and going into my 17^th Holiday and Winter Season.  Living outside indefinitely 

wears on you heavily, and you try finding something, anything, to give you

 something to look forward to. 

Yet, another anniversary that came about yesterday, 8/31, happened 4 years ago 

when I walked away from something that should have killed me on impact.  

Still feel the physical infusion from that impact, but I should not be here…..   

seems my entire life there have been series of just that very thing.   Been through hell, 

dragged through the nightmares, and still pushing forward, to what end???    No idea at all.  

Wishing I knew the reason I am here, to serve what purpose, really….. when there is no 

purpose or meaning in life on the streets.  Nothing of substance …and your presence 

becomes more of an afterthought, than being acknowledged

 as a living, feeling, breathing sentient being…

A Lifetime of endless anniversaries to endure……  

Birthday Echoes.....

Birthday Echoes…..August 2016…

Another birthday come and gone, another one spent on the streets…..August 15, this marks my 15^th Birthday spent without a home, coming into my 16^th Anniversary of being forced from my home by and through the illegal actions of a despicable landlord, and heading into my 17^th Holiday and Winter Season on the streets. This was not a birthday I looked forward to seeing come to pass. None of my birthdays have ever held any special meaning, even less so having to endure yet another one outside. Not something to celebrate. To celebrate means joy and happiness…. I cannot recall ever experiencing either of those at any point in my life, and not at all since being put out here. How do you get excited and filled with joy about life when you are not a welcome part of that life?

Spending your days and nights alone-- no one inviting you anywhere, no one trying to connect in any meaningful way, no one saying “hey, let’s hang out”. You find the world continues to spin….. whether you are in it or not. So birthdays, especially all the ones I have had to endure and spend alone out here, have not been anything I have looked forward to, or gotten excited about. Really, what is the point? When you are denied everything that matters….a life of substance, purpose, and meaning, your mere existence….. birthdays, like Holidays, become just another day to endure. Just another day with no meaning, no substance, nothing of import.

Birthdays become like echoes….. repeating after each other, time and again. And each following the one before…

Vicarious Lives....

Life....on the outskirts of Society. Living life on the seams around the periphery of humanity when you're forced to live every moment of your life on the streets. Watching other people live their lives.... while we are cast to the wayside, not allowed to be involved in life itself....only permitted to watch from the sidelines, as a bystander but not an actual participant. Moments you envy as you experience life through the lens of others' endeavors, activities and involvement. I often wonder what it would be like, what it would feel like to be accepted and welcome in this thing called life. Be a real participant... instead of an audience member that is not allowed to BE. How do you make sense of life.... when you are not allowed to truly live? Is there a rhyme or reason for being other than just being present, where your

presence is not welcome?

Life takes on such a harsh new reality when you live outside,

without the warm, luxury that a home provides.

The textures, the meaning, the contexts.... so very different.

Having to live your life under the shadows of society, living on the underside of humanity.

Being forced on the streets means an endless life of degradation, inequality and inhumane treatment from those who have that very special luxury called a home...

For the most part, when those who have that luxury called a home find they are dealing with "One of those people" (as those of us on the streets are more often than not referred to in the nicest of terms), their attitudes shift 360˚ and become a re-enactment of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde -- their ugliness pours out uncontrollably. Bringing forth nasty remarks, ignorant, rude, hateful attitudes and violent behaviors -- and they see 'us' as the CraZy ones…

Immigrants are seen as first-class citizens in comparison and given all the bells and whistles, including FULL benefits of housing, warm clothing, Hot-meals, medical and dental coverage, in addition to receiving free money every month just for being an illegal. Yet for those of us who desperately NEED these 'so-called' benefits are not even given the time of day, much less, even acknowledged -- that is, unless you count being brutally de-humanized in the most unimaginable ways as being "acknowledged".

The mentally 'challenged' ones are treated like royalty and given Carte-Blanche.

When you find yourself on the brutal streets, you soon realize you've been given a LIFE SENTENCE-- and that is the stigma of being on the streets. Your life all but ends and is immediately replaced by ever-increasing violent assaults against your person, both physically as well as through their verbiage -- continually directed toward you day-in, day-out.

Secondary Lives... Secondhand Living

Life....

What truly comes to mind when the word Life is mentioned?

Everyone has a different interpretation of the word. Some seem to have

all the tools and manuals for Life.. but to those cast to the wayside of Life....of Humanity, Life becomes a Foreign Language with no interpreter to make sense of any of it. No instructions to be found anywhere…

~ Secondhand Living, Second Edition of Life...~

Life on the Streets... Means;

Living on the periphery of human existence by

Living off and through the cast-offs, throw aways, hand me downs….

Living through the threads of other people's lives, at times, through the barest of threads.

Living in the shadows of other people's lives….. in the shadows of humanity.

Living life second hand, sometimes several generations down. Existing around the edges and periphery of life, society…. But not allowed to be part of it. Even then, barely tolerated. And Even less so when physically challenged and you don't move in the perceived manner set forth by society of what they consider “real” and "acceptable".

Not welcome as part of humanity, of society, but rather almost tolerated. And all the private details of your life, every facet of your existence, from where and when you sleep, use the restroom, bathe, brush your teeth, change clothes, is put up on the public screen for everyone to see, view, comment on, and disregard.

Being on the streets does change you, and not always in the best of ways… you find yourself becoming more hardened on the inside, closing yourself off further and further.

Doing your best to keep distance from people now, actually dreading having to be anywhere

where people are no matter where this may be; the library,

grocery store, retail store, parks…..because of how you are treated and the cruel comments directly

targeted right at you.

You become more withdrawn from life and stay clear of people.

Becoming more and more a piece of the landscape, blending

further with the environment.

~ The Secondhand Life…. Secondhand Living ~

Living on the periphery of humanity, society…..

Discarded lives, tossed to the wayside more like garbage to dispose of, rather than

treated as the living, feeling, breathing beings we actually are, just

because of a change in circumstance.

Having to live your life on the streets changes a person, especially

in the way you are treated by others, and takes a tremendous toll on your life...mentally, physically. Your health is compromised every moment… being exposed to absolutely everything.

Life becomes… mundane and obsolete.

Life....Delegated Elsewhere

Life… Delegated Elsewhere

Living on the streets, you find nothing you do matters (not in the truest sense, anyway)… 

when you go out of your way to help others, in whatever capacity that may be, or taking a breath… 

or not, does not matter. I guess I was always fooling myself thinking otherwise. 

Your life means absolutely nothing when you are delegated to live your 

life on the streets, regardless of how you came to be out here. 

Your every move, your every breath….suspect. 

Your life is delegated elsewhere, just not where it actually matters. Living…. 

What does this truly mean when you merely exist along the seams of humanity, 

but not allowed to be part of it...but always a part from it? Is that what living is 

supposed to be about? You really begin to wonder why you bother to keep 

moving forward, why continue to breathe when Life is Delegated elsewhere. 

Having nothing to look forward to but endless days of more of the 

same….each one repeating like a carbon copy of each one before, and every one thereafter.

When you have no one to share your day with, to share how things are going…. 

Someone to just care, life is truly meaningless. Sure, I volunteer where I can, as often as I can…. 

Which helps to keep me connected and involved, at 

least on some level, but does not fill the empty void left in your heart for a life, 

or rather a mere existence, that is simply not welcome in society.

Aside from the cops, my companions that are always with me, every day, every moment….

 Are notebooks, books, and an array of animals and insects. 

These are what keep me company, day-in, day-out. Meditating in the 

mornings to balance my day and heart with the chaos ahead...

clear out the debris of others’ hurtful words and 

actions toward me. Helps brace for the coming onslaught that is never-ending.

Life becomes rote…. Days repeating and left on auto-pilot as they become routine. 

Each like a carbon copy of the ones before and each one thereafter.

 Living becomes an afterthought while life itself becomes more about survival 

than actual living. And the thing is, as life settles in….it becomes “normal”. 

You actually get used to living, or rather merely existing on the streets,

 living along the edges and perimeter of humanity.

 You find yourself amazed at the speed of which you become “used” to what life brings your way. 

It becomes so common place, you no longer notice it happening, 

or that others don’t experience it similarly. Though I absolutely 

hate being forced to live on the streets, being denied my basic rights, like being

 able to eat real meals, or having a home, or having ready access to showers and hot water…. 

It has become so common place, you quickly adapt to it, 

and life becomes “normal”.

The heat is one of the hardest things and most challenging to deal with on the streets…

.Being outside all day, every day, is like being stuffed in an oven left on high all day. 

You have no access to showers, only the public sinks at the 

park or library, and sometimes grocery stores. 

The rare few places that offered “showers” were nothing but a cruel joke at our expense. 

Giving you a maximum of 5 minutes, total. They did not give you time to clean the gunk and 

debris from all the ones that used it prior, and being physically challenged, 

I was not able to even fully undress before they came pounding on the door 

telling me my time was up….

 My time was up before I ever got the chance to do anything. 

Aside from having no access to showers in the heat, the heat itself is an additional 

weight pressed down on you, which makes it much more challenging to get around, 

breathing is harder and the extensive fluid build up and excessive swelling 

through my knees, legs, ankles and feet that has been my constant companion for 

the better part of my life now, is made much worse in the heat, 

and makes moving beyond challenging.

So where do you go when you have no place to go… unwelcome wherever you are?


 Life….Delegated Elsewhere.

Citizens of Life ~ Residents of Nowhere...

Citizens of Life...

~ Residents of Nowhere~

by Renee Bowen

Regardless of your citizenship 'status', when you are forced

to live your life on the brutal streets, your citizenship is revoked,

as you are not considered or counted anymore

as a living, breathing, feeling being... but rather discarded waste to be

eliminated with the garbage. Citizenship no longer holds any meaning,

much less our very basic, essential rights--

Because we are residents of everywhere and nowhereville,

citizenship just becomes another useless word, describing nothing,

and meaning less. Yet, we are forced

 to “prove” our citizenship with each passing moment.

The cops insisting your illegal just for being present.

Doing absolutely nothing wrong, minding our own business,

 not hurting anyone, not breaking any laws, but immediately have the cops

in your face demanding your personal information, and why you are where you are.

What is with the constant harassment? And the only reason being

because you don't have that precious luxury of having a solid roof over

your head referred to as a home-- a true residence.

Where are you supposed to go, when you have absolutely

no place to go, no place to just BE?

And the thing is what the cops do to us out here is, in fact, what is illegal. 

 What they do to us is unconstitutional in every regard, yet we're the ones paying

the price for the most widely accepted form of harassment and illegal practices

 as this is not only readily condoned, but heavily enforced.

Infringing on our very basic right-- the very rights we are supposed

to be guaranteed-- stripped away and taken from us--

circumstances that were imposed and forced upon us, creates this

 horrible shift in society--- as soon as your living status changes from

home/apartment dwellers to that of the open skies,

the living, breathing, being of our presence cease to exist, then treated in the

worst possible ways...

 addressed like we are trash cast along someone's path--

yet the only thing that has changed about us, the people we are,

have always been is our resident status.

So what gives anyone the right to treat us with such contempt and taking

away our rights from us?? Only because our living arrangements have changed??

The most widely accepted and condoned treatment toward us is the most inhumane!

They say we are “Created Equal”….

Where exactly would this be? Other than just mere words filling

empty space? If we are created equal, where is the equality?

If we were created equal, communication would prevail instead of endless wars and

perpetual violence, and massacres in the name of “solving” issues-- by eliminating people,

and in fact, anything and everything that breathes would not be a way of life..

If we were created equal, the rich wouldn’t be given precedence and Carte Blanche while

disregarding the rest of us. If we were truly equal, segregation would not exist,

nor would racism, or any form of division among people and Citizens of Life ~ Residents of Nowhere...discrimination would long since be a thing of the past, in every regard,

no matter what your race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and the male gender would not

be paid more for the same work that females do for less.

If we were created equal, destruction wouldn’t control our lives,

our privacy would still be intact… being a number or credit score

wouldn’t ruin or run our lives, especially when the

information is flat out wrong, when your information stolen,

then you are judged and condemned by and through the actions of others,

 regardless of whether the information they are viewing is true or not.

  Being refused services based on what type of person they see you as,

is not being treated as equal  If we were truly created as equals,

life would not be so grossly out of balance.

Living in Limbo....

Living in Limbo….

Life was not meant to be lived on the streets, on the sidelines as a bystander…. It was not meant to be drudgery, something to avoid and be disheartened with. But hope no longer resides on my heart, faith nonexistent….Love, have no idea what that even is. Maybe it's the disgust that comes across people’s faces when my circumstances or my very presence, really, become known, or perhaps it’s on the rude remarks and cruel comments directed at me every moment of the day, wherever people are present, or in the mockery of my movements, proceeded and then followed by laughter as people find the way I move hilarious as hell. Laughing out loud, or pretending to cough while trying not to choke from laughing while making fun of me…. Is that what love is??? I’ve come to truly dread being anywhere where people are anymore. I was born with a life sentence, given before I was even present in life, present before birth, and a lifetime physical sentence through the actions of others resulting in the way I move, or how I breathe. But the hardest to deal with are the rude ignorant remarks and cruel actions and behaviours of others at my expense. Being on the receiving end of the worst of humanity, makes me truly dread and come to hate having to go or be where anyone is. I no longer try reaching out to connect with others, what is the point?? When you are not seen for who you are, but rather how you look, the way you move (or don't, as the case may be), or judged by your circumstance.... but not the person you are. Not in how your heart may beat, what brings excitement to your eyes.... to your life. Not in your beliefs, not in your friendship, not in causes that mean something to you, not your skills, your humanity....nothing of substance. The only thing people choose to see is how you move and what your circumstance is, nothing more. You are not viewed or treated as a living, feeling being, but well below that of a human being.

I used to really love giving to others. Because I wanted to and it made me feel good, that is until my gifts were rejected, refused, and fully discarded because of my circumstance. And the ones I have given gifts to that they refused demanded to know "Where did you get this?", "How did you come by this?", "I can't take anything from you?". "You're nothing but a passenger, and I don't associate with passengers." Nothing I have given has been accepted, no matter what I have given.... not even my friendship has been welcome or accepted....just thrown in the trash. So I no longer try connecting with others.

Keeping to myself, more and more often. And then become immersed in Nature and her Beautiful gifts all around. Her beautiful feathered, furry, and winged creatures are my confidants, in the truest sense. They keep me going when life is too raw and ugly to endure, which is more often than not the case. Dragonflies and hummingbirds bring magic to my days.... alighting on me, time and again. Hummingbirds always draw my attention, and when they are really wanting to connect, they come over and hover just above my head when I am either meditating, reading and or writing, they wait for me to acknowledge the motor sound of their wings, and then when I look up to see them, they lower to face me directly, eye to eye. Once they have my attention, that is the time they take to rest on my knee, or the back of a hand..... or the closest branch near me, and begin their songs. It lifts my heart like nothing else. And when Dragonflies want my attention, they fly around my head, zipping past my vision, until I follow them with my eyes.... then alighting on my knee or forearm.  Butterflies landing on the tip of my nose, or sitting lightly on my finger-- The magic never fades, no matter how many times it occurs. But it is breathtaking every time and lets me know my presence matters, at least to a select few, if not actual people. Though, their friendship is what pulls me through, and means the world to me.

Animals and nature have always accepted me, welcomed me into their space..... always. Rarely, if ever, has that happened with people. What does this say about me?? But man's best friend has never been man..... but animal, and more precisely, dogs. Because animals see and feel the real person, they don't care what you do, where you live, how you move..... they accept you as you are. There is no pretense, there are no masks that have to be worn..... just being you. Perhaps that is why the majority of people who criticize my very presence, and insist on their being "so much help" available to people on the streets (which is an erroneous assumption that is not the least bit true or accurate when you don't fit the "part") that I must be out here by choice, would never be able to last a single night on the streets, much less the nearly 2 solid decades I have been forced to. Animals scatter in their presence, wanting nothing to do with them. I have survived out here for so long because of the connections I have with animals, something I have never had with people. People don't accept you for who you are, and they never will. With people, you always have to wear facades and masks that are not real in order to be "accepted", but that is not acceptance. And when you don't move in a predictable and acceptable manner, their cruelty knows no end. People can learn so much from animals in how to treat each other, but their greatest teachers are ignored or hunted for sport. That is why animals, for the most part, do not generally hang around people. They know when people mean harm and when they do not.

I didn't choose this life that I was sentenced to, nor the harsh treatment from humanity.... just for being who I am and moving in a way they don't like, and forced into a circumstance not of my choosing, while getting endless doors slammed in my face from places that are supposed to offer help and assistance. So why do people choose to make my life a nightmare that I cannot wake from??? Does tearing someone else to shreds make them feel better about who they are???? When all they are really doing is putting themselves in a much lower light that is not at all flattering. Whatever happened to the Golden Rule....Do Unto Others As You Would Have Others Do Unto You.