Life Happens...

Life Happens....

Life happens..... some good, some very, very bad. And sometimes, things fall in between.

I often wonder what my life would have been like if I had been welcome, instead of discarded.

Having a life that actually matters, one that I was wanted right from the start.... but life,

my life, did not start that way. Just the opposite. My life never should have been, my

birth should have never happened. But unfortunately, it did, and I am left forever

picking up the pieces left behind and discarded since. I know people

(Mistakenly believing we were friends, only to find I was nothing more than

a circumstance to them) whose lives have been deeply blessed every step of the way....

having multiple homes in different countries, travel the world over, many times over,

spending weeks and months on end at various places.

Their kids literally growing up on airplanes.

And then there are ones like me...... my life could not be more different in contrast.

Blessed rarely, having more bad luck than anything else in life. What would life have

been like if I had been treated as a friend, on a personal level, instead of just the

debris cast to the wayside and seen as only a circumstance and not a living,

breathing, feeling person???? How different would things be?

Would life hold any meaning? Would I want to be here???

Would life hold joy and love????

Things that have never been a part of my life that I can ever recall,

not in any meaningful way. Having a life where you are never once accepted

for who you are, as you are, not welcome wherever you go. I am making the best of a

bad situation I was forced into, time and again.

And no matter what I do, I am criticized, ridiculed, made fun of, laughed at., mocked.

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

A Life punishment..... living on the streets, my life..... so really, what is the point?

Being sentenced for a crime you never committed.

I have died a million times over on the streets, and died a different kind of death

when I was forced to live my life on the streets. With a body that has continually and

completely turned against itself at every moment of my life, a life that is not worth the

mere existence it has become. My life and body has always felt like a cruel Joke of the

Universe, straight from God. A punishing curse than anything to cherish and be truly

grateful for. Living in excruciating pain every day of my life, my body never once working

like it is “supposed” to. Never once functioned like the books say it should. It does its own

thing with little regard to being attached to me. And the endless pain and grief that it has

wrought in its wake. Living in pain, barely existing around the edges of life...

Never once did I ever think or believe my life would be taken from me, eviscerated

of all that matters, then cast to the debris left behind in Humanity's wake.

But having spent nearly half my life, in the barest form of existence, on the streets....

life has changed in every way, means something entirely different when it is lived without a home,

or the comforts and security that affords. Time shifts, changes, and morphs into extending without end. 

 Days go by without realizing one has changed into the next..... years flash by without warning.

Time is lost track of, brought back, and lost again. Dates have no meaning,

as one is the same as the next, and the ones before.

The context of life takes on different textures and feels on the streets, that cannot be

experienced anywhere else. Life tastes different, looks different, feels different on the streets.

It changes you in ways you could never dream of, seeps so deeply and indelibly in and

through your entire being, and every cell and atom in your body.

Changes you in ways that cannot be erased.

Images burned into your vision that cannot be changed.

Experiencing things in life that would make the most hardened criminal flinch,

and yet it becomes second nature to those of us living without a home.

It is truly amazing what your body and mind become used to, just by being

exposed to, it time and again. And it becomes part of your life, and who you are as a person.

Living on the streets changes how you approach life, how you react, what you do...

in every way. It changes how you breathe, how you eat, how you sleep, how you clean up.

There is no part of your life unchanged from life on the streets.

Life on the Streets.... Detracts from Living.

Humanity's Shadow...

Humanity's Shadow

When your life is lived on the streets, you literally

become Humanity's Shadow...

living under, or rather merely existing through, shadows 

of color faded after being left out too long in the sun.

You don't know what it's like living under humanity's shadow... 

not being seen or treated as part of society, 

never brought into the folds of friendship.... most, if not all,

interactions are surface level only, nothing of substance.

Because people are afraid of those living on the streets,

we're not invited to be part of life.

Living on the streets puts you in hyper-survival mode. 

Your life centers on finding food, shelter, and places to clean up. 

Living on the streets means dealing with life in its rawest form.

Without a filter...

Subjected to things no one should be, and witness to

things that should never be seen. Living without being seen...

at least not in any meaningful way. Merely existing in and through the 

shadows of life, and under the shadows of humanity.

The cost living is exponentially high, especially more so in the

state of California, where the cost of living is not only exponentially 

higher than any place else in the nation, is it also cost prohibitive 

when forced to live life on the streets. Paying excessive taxes, 

which are taxed and those taxes are heavily taxed.

Making it impossible to live with any measure of comfort.

Compromising our lives even more, and the negative effects that

result from other people imposing their wills on everyone else's lives.... 

how we will “live”, what we can do, and where we can do things., 

has had and continues to have very negative consequences

in every aspect of our lives

Further hardships imposed on those in the state of California makes

living on the street, living in the state.... unlivable, untenable. 

Especially with the laws that have a direct negative impact on our lives;

living without a home, like the plastic bag ban, where not only 

have prices increased exponentially, making life even more of a 

challenge on the streets, even more so in terms of obtaining 

food and supplies, but taking away what we need to carry our 

purchases from the stores and restaurants and then charging us 

for the “privilege” of carrying out our food, and other purchases

from the places of business... because paying for the purchases

are not enough, we are charged 

more to carry them out of the store and restaurants....

Taking away plastic bags has a detrimental affect for those of us 

having to live on the streets. Now, instead of the protection the bags 

offered to keep our things and food dry, our stuff is damaged from

being in direct contact with the elements of rain and wind, and 

we no longer have a way to keep our food dry.

So we end up wasting what little funds we have on food 

that can no longer be eaten before it is destroyed by the weather. 

California laws have made life on the streets impossible to endure.

We are the ones most affected by all the laws imposed on the state, as it

has a very direct, very negative impact on our lives, health and safety.

Now, going into any grocery store, retail place of business, 

or any and all food places.... we are forced to take in and use our

own bags sold to us to carry out our purchases of foods, and necessities,

putting that much more of a burden on an already heavy

burden of being forced to live without a home 24/7. Then the costs of

everything has risen so far out of control, even getting the barest necessities

is a real hardship, the challenges the extremely high costs

of everything.... makes living more of a luxury, than the

necessary thing it is.

Barely existing because law makers insist on making life in 

California a place where no one can actually live. And that is no

way to live. Having to live on the streets is no way to live....

barely existing, struggling to just survive is not a life.

But then, living on the streets, and taking your already burdened

bags into the stores or restaurants, you are accused of stealing....

because of your bags and burden carried inside.

So it is no-win all around.

Nearly half my life has been lived on the streets...and it is a life 

that encompasses everything I do. I Breathe Street life, I eat Street life,

I dream Street life..... it has literally overtaken and overshadowed every 

aspect of my life, in every way, shape and form.

What I eat, when I eat, where I eat and how I eat.... when I sleep,

where I sleep, how I sleep; is all dictated by circumstance

not of my choosing... compounded so much more by the extremely

high rising costs of life in the state. And when you have little or no 

means to purchase that life....

the quality of life becomes non-existent. There is no quality of life

on the streets, you become the very landscape

around you, a movable fixture.

A fixture that breathes, absorbs, feels, and is witness to life, 

without being part of life. I have died a million times over living

on the streets, and died a different kind of death being forced to

live my life without a home and the challenges that pose just by forced

circumstance imposed by and through the illegal actions of a

despicable landlord forcing me out.

A New Year... A New Hope 2018

A New Year.... A New Hope

2018

A New Year coming into play.... with it, the excitement of NEW, with the residual

effects left over from Christmas mingling the ends of one year with the

beginnings of the New Year. As the New Year comes about, filled with

fresh thoughts about what is to come.... lingering thoughts from the past year

flood your mind about what was not finished, and still needs attention.

So at the end of one year and the beginnings of the next,

you find yourself pulled in both directions at once.

I have come to terms living life on the streets.... knowing that a real home is not

meant to be, and that my “home” will likely be forever outside. I don't accept it.

But I have long since come to terms with the fact (I have had to)

in order to survive and still be here after nearly 2 solid decades,

that the only home I will have will be no real home at all...

I will never accept being forced to live my life on the streets all because

of the illegal actions of a despicable landlord.

Accepting and coming to terms are not the same thing.

The New Year is about New Hope, New Beginnings, New Starts.... Faith that

things will finally be good.... that everything will work out. Looking forward

to a better year, a better space, a better time. They say “Time Heals all Wounds”....

but I have never found that to be true. There are scars deep inside that will

never be healed.... in this life, or any other. Time covers up, and sometimes mutes,

lessens here and there, but it doesn't heal, not in the truest sense of the word.

The meaning of which has long since been eclipsed and morphed into

what is in Fashion and “trending” at any given time.

There is always carry over from one year into the next, and the start of the new year

brings about the sorting process, kind of like the bins most homes are given to put

all their waste product into, divided into different categories; waste/refuse/trash,

recycling, mulch/compost and so forth. Sorting the past year out of the present and

discarding what no longer serves any purpose, recycling/reclaiming things that you

need and are used, and making amends, is how the New Year promotes itself...

I spent the last couple days from the past year clearing out and releasing all life's debris

from this past year, as it was definitely one of the worst years I have

experienced and lived through... but as I released all the build up and residue

through writing and meditating, processing and letting go in order to come into

this year fresh and open, I realized how embedded and fully enmeshed life becomes.

Every year, I go through the same process. Though, this is something I do every

day of the year, since writing and meditating is how I process everything that happens

in life, at the end of the year, it is more intensified and much more centered on

whatever is still lingering that I have not been able to release earlier.

So I am ready for the New Year to unfold and expect MAGIC and MIRACLES

to be a constant companion. A girl can Dream. Speaking of Dreams....

A real home is forever on my wish list, and eventually will come about, even if not in

this Life or in my Lifetime here. I will have the H O M E I have so longed

for and dreamt about for the past 18 years.

Looking forward to the BEST ahead.

Happy New Year.... 2018

Christmas Hope... 2017

Christmas Hope....2017

Christmas 2017.... Christmas, a time of HOPE, FAITH, LOVE..... and MIRACLES.

When you live life on the streets, 24/7.... it takes a hard toll on your person,

your heart, your faith... Your life and health. It hits every aspect of your life,

in ways you could never imagine. Another Christmas on the streets, quite

literally, being left out in the cold. While being sidelined from my own life.

When you hit rock bottom and get mired in the depths of it....

sometimes kindness and hope seeps in through the most

unexpected ways, and leaves you breathless.

I realize that hope and faith are never truly lost, they just get buried, deeply,

under life's debris... But access to it has been blocked and sometimes

requires outside help to gain access once more. It takes so little..

A kind word or two, a warm greeting, a genuine smile. As these are the

access codes to retrieving hope lost, and restoring the faintest hint of faith.

And the time of year this comes about is Christmastime....

perhaps it is something in the air; the rich vibrancy of frenetic energy,

the smells of seasoned wood burning in fireplaces, cooking.... Or perhaps

it is just that people's attitudes changes a bit toward those

of us out here during this season of giving that restores hope and faith

ever so slightly. It's a Gift that doesn't happen too often. Whatever it is,

it brings the long dormant feelings of Hope, Love and Faith out of

dormancy and to the surface, and becomes accessible.

I still have dreams (albeit very vague, at best) of finally having a real home;

a place where I could finally sleep and get the much needed rest my body

has been deprived of for far too long; a real kitchen to store, prepare,

and cook real food...., a private bathroom to do my personal, very private

things that have been put on and displayed for all the world to see.

But they are nothing more than dreams.

When you need a hand up, not a handout.... because life on the streets is

definitely a life disruptor...… you need help getting back up, not more

things to keep you down, while pushing you further 

down the bottomless hole without end.

Helping is not enabling the preconceived “bad behavior” that those

of us on the streets are automatically assumed to partake in,

when that is rarely the case, in reality. We are people, most of whom

have been forced to live, or rather merely exit without actually

existing, into a circumstance not of our choosing, but having

to make the best of a bad situation.

Having to live every moment of my life on the streets in full view of the

public movie screen, day-in, day-out and every night thereafter....

is certainly a game changer. Being denied the comforts of a real home.....

changes not only how you live and survive, but every one of your habits change.

Personal grooming and hygiene, using the restroom, eating (when you can),

sleeping (if and when that happens).... nothing is private.

Every moment of your life on public display, every breath taken,

every blink of your eyes, every step taken, and

every seat taken to sit and rest for the briefest time.

The only difference between you and “us” is nothing more than our

home environment. We live, we breathe, we feel.... just like everyone else.

Though, because of our circumstance, we are denied living as

most people are allowed to do, and living on the streets ages you decades

in the briefest amount of time, because you don't have the comforts of home....

you are in the elements every moment of the day, and all through

the night, season after endless season. The only ones who card

me now are the cops, though I do nothing to be carded for.... But being present.

So when the Holidays come around, especially Christmas.... those of us

living outside catch glimpses of real humanity.... not much of it, mind you,

but a glimpse that deep down, most people have a heart and they care.

Some of that trickles down to us as you walk past us without

usually even giving us a kind look, or even a warm smile,

much in the way of acknowledgment of any kind,

not in a good, kind way, that is.

But when Christmas comes about-- kindness, warmth, generosity

are more frequent visitors that makes a world of difference.

Even just taking a moment to connect with someone

outside, changes things. It gives us a slight glimmer of HOPE....

that brighter days are ahead, and not all behind us.

Life has a way of never turning out the you wanted... the way you hoped for,

and dreamed about. I never dreamed I would be spending my life

on the streets,.... but after breathing every breath for the last 18 Holiday and

Winter Seasons outside tells me, in a very real sense,

life doesn't care what you want, what has been dreamed

about and longed for for so long.

But there has been a few angels

around me that let me know otherwise, most wearing fur or feathers,

but some upright angels came along my path, as well.

As 2017 comes to a close, I will be so glad to have this year soon to be a

thing of the past. It has not been a kind year, but rather one of the

absolute worst years I have ever experienced. I would be so happy if this

entire year could be erased and never happen. But I will have to settle for it

coming to an end, even if it cannot be erased and forgotten about.

The brief glimpses of humanity, real humanity, that I was blessed to

experience has made this year tolerable.. I have been blessed and deeply

grateful for those rare few that brought love to me out here. So if it had not

been for a select few rare treasures coming into my life this year....

this whole year would have been put on hiatus.