Decades Pasts... And Counting

 

 

Decades Past...

Life in the Review Living on the Streets

20 Years of Life, or rather the merest hint of what had been a Life.

Shelled out and Shadowed in form and existence.

Heading into my 21^st Holiday and Winter Season, while living

in the worst Decade of the worst year in our History, as our lives are

pawned off and removed, all for Political gain at our expense.

All of our Inherent rights, our Constitutional Rights, the Amendments,

Our Freedoms, Our Civil Liberties, Our God given right to Breathe....

all of it has been forcibly removed from our lives.

21 Holiday and Winter Seasons on the streets... with an untold more to

follow in its wake. That's how long I have been forced to live, or rather

merely exist behind and underneath the Fumes of Humanity.

Our Health, Our Immunity, Our Well-Being.... and Our very Lives....

Our Bodies and Our Lives are not Government Issue.

Yet, they have finally achieved what they have been wanting

to do for a real long time now, and that is taking

total and complete control over our lives and how we live.

Everything we do, everywhere we go.... all now extensively

restricted. Where we go, what we eat, how we socialize and

interact with others.... Our very Humanity being wiped

from the face of the Earth in every regard.

Forcibly forbidden to live our lives in any meaningful way.

No longer allowed to live. No longer allowed to do anything or

go anywhere. Several months into the forced Lockdown, we are

still not allowed to move freely, or go where we need to go.

As my life on the streets continues to unfold.... each year

becoming worse than the ones before... and 2020 is turning into

the worst year in the history of our lives.  As more and more is

being restricted and forbidden for us to do, life itself is losing

its meaning and purpose. 2020 is a First of many things...

the first year of a new decade, the first year Life itself

has been cancelled indefinitely and everything in it, the

first year where our lives will never be the same.

Living in the center of the Orwellian Nightmare that never ends.

  Facing my 21st Winter and Holiday season on the streets.

One of the hardest things to deal with living on the streets, aside

from the harsh elements... Is having to clean up in icy cold water

in low temperatures...20s, 30s, and 40s. Waking covered in a thick

layer of frost, like frosting on a cake. Having to douse my head in water

that is much colder, than it is outside, like liquid ice, along with washing

my body in freezing water. Taking ice bathing to a whole new level. And

repeatedly having my oxygen and airflow forcibly taken from me all

year with the forced face masks that are suffocating and unbreatheable,

has been making things much worse to contend with,

especially in regards to my health.

Infections happening out of nowhere that won't heal, cuts,

scrapes, bruising happening with higher frequency, and sores that

stay open and raw as a direct result of oxygen deprivation, over

and over again. It's bad enough having to battle the effects of living

on the streets...being a physically challenged female and Being readily denied

proper rest and nutrition, now having to battle ever-increasing

health challenges as a direct result of Government imposed actions.

20 Years Now.... and Still

20 years now...September 1, 2020. Twenty years and counting without a home.

Twenty years plus forced to live on the streets... More than 2 DECADES.

And this year, the worst I have ever experienced.

The draining, soul emptying life outside. The excruciating pain taking up

residence in my right thumb radiating through my hand, wrist and

down my arm. My thumb massively swollen and pointing out from the pad in

a sharp triangle,  the pain is excruciating. The nail bed has a black line across my 

top of my thumb with the left side of the nail black and pale yellow with and ashy

color on the right side. My thumb is swollen and hard. 

 

Making my right hand unusable for anything. It is interfering with sleeping,

interfering with using the restroom, cleaning up, changing...even just sitting.

Feeling like my thumb is being smashed nonstop with spikes being jabbed

through in every angle, while being butchered at the same time.

This anniversary happens amidst the Pandemic (Plannedemic..?),

where the Government is destroying our Immunity. Forcing us to be

muzzled 24/7 in suffocating, unbreatheable face masks...and removing everything

that made life worth living...everything has been taken away...all self serve has been

eliminated; soup, salad, coffees, bulk items, sports, events. Millions of Private

businesses forced to close permanently, while none of the Government

Offices or businesses harmed at all. Forcing social isolation and distance,

barricading our lives from each other.

So with the Government taking control over our lives and the influx of health

issues that has come about as a direct result of the health damaging

mandates forced and imposed upon us and our lives, has

turned this year into a living nightmare. Decades on the streets; a

nightmare unto itself...then everything compiling on top of that. Truly

the WORST year I have ever experienced in any and all regard.

 

 

Ghost Town Living...

 

 

Ghost Town Living...

Life under Lockdown

Life has become a true Ghost Town as a direct result of the Pandemic.

Streets have been cleared of vehicle traffic, empty storefronts, parks and events

shut down and eliminated, Life cancelled. Living in a Real-Life Ghost Town.

Forced into a Ghost Town from this horribly cruel "Shelter-in-Place"

nightmare that is destroying the economy and wreaking havoc on our well being.

And it has just been extended another several months. Indefinite Forced Isolation.

Life destroying, soul crushing. No contact whatsoever...no hugs, no touching.

Not allowed to live, and be sure not to breathe. Forcing us to become

ever-increasingly alienated from Life itself. Life has become a barren prison...

Forced to keep distance. Why do they even bother having anything

open, the few places that are open.. grocery stores and a few food places, when

the hours are continually being reduced and restricted...opening much later

and closing much earlier while limiting capacity, and restricting access,

then what is the point? Barriers are being put up

all over to force people to keep their distance. Things have

gotten way out of control. They have long since passed ridiculous.

Life has become extremely impersonal.

Deserted and abandoned, life cast to the wayside, our lives in

drought...a barren landscape of dystopia. The economy dried up,

shriveled and completely dismantled.

No more personal interaction. Grocery stores, food places, and what

little retail remains, have imposed prison glass for barrier separation,

which makes it difficult to hear what they are saying and it blocks the

screen to see if things were rung through correctly at the right price

and the total, all blocked now. The grocery stores and few foods places

that remain open have greatly reduced their hours, making access to

restrooms and food even more challenging. Becoming a bubble of one...

physical interaction no longer allowed. Where Our lives are already

forced into isolation when living on the streets.

It's in the Homeless Contract I refused to sign. And cast out as

Social Outcasts from the start.

Being distanced from people is not the main issue...but having no access to

restrooms now, since all the parks have locked and blocked all

restroom access...finding places to go when every place is on Lock Down,

restroom access now can only be found in some grocery stores & gas stations.

The only places still somewhat open to the public, though in very limited

capacity and restricted hours. Contrary to popular belief, those of us

on the streets, we have to go too! We cannot hold it forever.

Biological needs are something every living being has to take care of.

Touch... Contact.. Connection... Socializing...An essential human element,

essential needs are now forbidden. Withering our souls... Dying to just breathe.

Living in a forced Ghost town where life has literally been shut down and

turned off. Crushing the economy and leaving this country, this world and

our well being in great deficit. We are a Social creature. Lives literally

hang in the balance. To live, to thrive...we HAVE to connect, to touch,

be social. The fabric of life has been cut off. And living in the streets,

we already have so little contact, there is no thriving... Just merely

surviving because the threads of existence has shredded and

unraveled, the loose threads have been discarded, much like our lives.

Our lives being Decimated, while our Economy has been shattered and

splintered in devastating ways. Millions of Private businesses forced to

permanently shut down, millions forced out of work, while

not a single Government office or person has suffered

any of their imposed consequences on OUR lives.

Ghost town living... Government Style

THE SHUT DOWN...

The Shut Down...

Life Being Shut Down and Turned Off....

Life on the streets has never been more challenging than at this

current time we are experiencing through the dangerous and

world shaking outbreak of the Coronavirus that created

mass hysteria, the world over, and something that was

deliberate and Intentional.

Life is literally being turned off and completely shut down.

Forced isolation. Social Distancing. Businesses, schools,

Restaurants, Movie theaters, being shut down and closed.

What few places that are still open for food, have

imposed strict requirements to access food.

No longer allowed to sit inside, or even go inside to

pick up food, only Pickup, Take-out or Delivery... 

all at a distance. Restroom access is not allowed.

Grocery Stores have nothing but empty shelves

filling the space. What few places remain open,

hours have been greatly decreased to “Maximize

Social Distancing”. Imposing a NO CONTACT Law.

Libraries, Wineries, Bars, Schools, Any and All Events;

Closed and shut down. No crowds of any kind are allowed.

All park restrooms locked up. Where a forced

“Shelter in Place” has been put into effect, requiring

people to stay “Home”, have your meals at home.

This poses a real challenge to those of us forced to live

outside, indefinitely. You have no Home to go to.

Having no restroom access to take care of personal needs,

or have any place to use to go when you need to.

Having limited or no access to food...Because we are

already in “Shelter in Place”, though our place

is every place. We are home, wherever we go. Having

to carry our homes with us every moment of

the day, and all through the night.

Once again, when disaster strikes.... 

The homeless are literally left out in the cold. 

And the rain. And the high winds.

Being exposed to everything, at any moment,

we do not have the safety of a true “Shelter in Place”.

Our place is everywhere and all over. We do not

have the protection and are not given any thought

about how all these imposed changes affect our

lives in a very real, very devastating way.

Turning life into an even greater hardship for those

of us outside.... blocking access to restrooms,

limiting food access, not allowed to be where you are.

The Virus from HELL is turning our lives into a living

hell, while making life itself inaccessible for even the

most basic, essential Human Needs.

As the Shut Down continues....The IMPACT on our

lives is Injurious and Detrimental. Life....

Turned OFF.

I Have a NAME

I Have a NAME...

I am not a Number

I am not an AGE

I am not a Date Of Birth

I am not an Income Level

I am not a Bank Statement

I am not a Social Security Number

I am not my Driver's License

or State ID Number

I Have a Name.

Referring to me by my gender, my age, my income (or the

lack thereof), my bank statement, my Social Security number

and so forth serves no useful purpose other than to display

a person's personal details, which is Very de-valuing,

very de-humanizing. But at once both very impersonal,

and deeply personal....

My Gender, My age, my Date of Birth, My Social

Security Number.... all of it is very private and no one's

business. Yet, continually put on full and open public

display that is silver plattered (up) for Identity Theft.

I Have a Name.

Being reduced to nothing more than a series of numbers,

my numbers; a gender; age, date of birth, Residence,

Income Level, Bank Statement... When none of it is relative.

Yet, my entire life history stripped away number by number.

Your privacy and private details of your life...having your age,

date of birth, Social Security Number and all your other

numbers, billboarded for anyone and everyone, your

life fully open on display in variations of our numbers.

I have absolutely zero tolerance for constantly being

reduced to a series of numbers; my numbers,

and a gender. I am not a number.

I Have a NAME

Still, my entire life history is stored within them all. While being

referred to as a number or sets of numbers is not who I am and

serves no other purpose than to de-humanize the person

behind the numbers, while giving all your personal

information to the world...

But all these places, especially in regards to the Government,

immediately reduces you to your numbers, forcing you to give

every single digit to them at every turn, then not acknowledging you

as a living, breathing, human being. The first thing that is always

asked of you/always “Required” of you; What is your AGE?/What is

Your Date of Birth?/When were you born?/How OLD are you?....

No matter which way they choose, that is always the first thing

they insist on knowing... your AGE. WHY? Why is your AGE so

important for them to KNOW? Serving no purpose than to add

to their chart because the forms state AGE/DOB/Birthdate

But if you ask theirs, they refuse to respond, telling

you “it is none of our business, we need to

know your numbers, not ours”.

That makes it easier to dismiss you when you are

nothing more than a number, or a series/set of numbers.

Having to give your vital details while being

dismissed as a living person.

Then on top of all the numbers you are referred to, they

demand all your information, stripped bare and put up

for sale; your Mother's Maiden name, your father's full name,

where you were born, the City/Town/State and date it

occurred and when, the time it happened, where you

grew up, what school(s) you went to, the street(s) you

lived on, who you know, how you know them, what your

relation to them are, what grades you received,

places you have been, what you eat, where you shop.

I Have a Name. I Have Presence.

My Identity....I am a Sentient Being.

I am not an IT, I am NOT a NUMBER.

Overpass Living

Overpass Lives...

Life on the Streets

Mud Embankments, weather in all extreme, gorging 
insects, hunger...These are just a few of things that life turns 
into when you are forced to live, or rather merely exist, on the 
outer outskirts of life itself. Living in a Subculture of 
existence. Into a Dimension all its own.

Survival mode becomes the ever-present setting of all you 
do. It becomes the Default setting. A setting that you 
cannot turn off. Life has never come easily to me. 
 I have never mastered the cadence or nuances, aside from 
that of Nature. Life remains elusive and out of reach. 
A life of Influence, of Impact, of Meaning, of Purpose... 
a Life that Matters, in the truest sense, happen 
only in Dreams, if even then.

Labels and erroneous assumptions mark your passing

just for being in a circumstance not of your choosing.

Judged immediately for just being present. Being assigned

a classification solely based on your circumstance,

put into a specific character form in a role that has been...

and continues to be, grossly ill-fitted and ill-fitting.

Cast into a role that was never meant to be.

But one that I have been forced into.

Forced and boxed into a Stereotype of

Characterization. And into a Journey through

the bowels of hell....A Journey I never wanted to take.

That is what life on the streets is like.

And living on the streets, people believe that you

are now the repository for all their castoffs and

discards they are looking to relieve themselves of,

that have long since lost there usefulness. We are not

the drop off stations for their unwanted junk. But

People come to the conclusion that once we are living

without a home, that gives them instant permission for us

to immediately become there dumping ground repository 
station for all their unwelcome, unwanted

junk, trash and debris. They think and believe that

just because our circumstances have changed,

that we are there just for them to unload

everything on us, Burdening us with their trash.

The Stereotypical version of the Homeless is rarely the

ACTUAL version of what being Homeless truly is.

Over-passed, Overlooked....but the depiction of what a

Homeless person is supposed to be like is all wrong, and

mis-counted when they do their “Census” surveys,

because we do not look the part, so we are egregiously

under-counted, again and again. But the Services in

place are not for the people living on the streets, it is to

cover the overhead, the payroll, and reams of paper for

the forms for all these agencies purported to be there to

help us, when those of us outside are not the ones who

benefit from the funding these places receive. It is the

PROGRAMS who benefit at our expense.

So nature continues to embrace me when Life has all but

forgotten all about me. Animals, my trusted friends

and deepest confidants, share my days and nights.

Embracing me in a way people, and LIFE, never has.

Listening to Nature and her Orchestra nourishes

my heart, while filling an emptiness I didn't

realize was even there.

Ever forget where you left something; keys, phone, coffee...

or forgot what something feels like; the texture of grass,

fresh fruit, a shower or a bed? I can no longer recall or remember

what a hot shower feels like, or what any shower feels like,

or what it feels like to clean up in anything but icy

cold water, regardless of the temperature, or

what it feels like to sleep in bed, undisturbed.

Likely lose the sense of what it is like to be a living,

breathing human being, as the longer I am forced to the

edges of the merest existence, the sentience part of my being is

loosening its grip, lessening more and more, minute by minute,

draining the very life out of me, going from a living, feeling,

breathing being to a dry, desert lanscape of existence.