(no subject)
I cry out for the homeless. Those of you who look down on us need to know that in most cases, we did not choose to be so. I, myself was layed off, seeking work, and living in a rented room with food to eat and a restroom to use.
I left that place because the owners decided to start selling drugs out of the house, which is something I would not tolerate or be a part of. So I packed what clothes I could, loaded them on my bicycle and left. I left behind a TV, DVD player, clothes, Jacket, work boots, tools and many other possessions I treasured, not just due to the moral implications, but because I kicked my habit over 6 mos. Ago and could in no way be around this lifestyle. Drugs had brought me down from owning my own home to renting a room from strangers, I am 47 years old and my only wish is now to once again be the person my mother was proud of.
Several nights ago my bike was stolen with all my clothes and remaining tools. Now I just walk from place to place or just sit in the park for hours. I can no longer look for work with only flip-flops on my filthy feet and wearing the same clothes, filthy from days of wear in the streets. I do own a cell phone and charger but my minutes are all but spent and any money that comes my way goes toward food. I’ve not had a meal in 5 days save the dbl. cheese burger for a dollar I got from change I’ve found on the ground. On Monday I ate birthday cake and chips I found leftover from a kids party at the park. I finished the chips today.
I have no family to call and the friends I did have are still doing the drugs, and of no help to themselves let alone me.
I am alone.
And lonely and not just a little bit afraid.
I ‘m afraid of a future with nothing.
I’m afraid of nights and where I might sleep and where I might walk to without worrying about running into gang members who may do me harm.
I’m afraid of decent people who look down o me as a vagabond or bum when all I want is a drink of water from their faucet.
I’m lonely and afraid of being alone the rest of my life.
Ive contemplated suicide but that would piss God off, and I’ve contemplated crime for at least in jail I’d eat and know where to sleep, but that, in some way, always involves hurting others to which I strongly object.
And so I pod on, always hungry, always afraid, and wondering of the future God may have for me.
And, as I stated in the beginning, I cry out for the homeless, for they are not always as they seem. There are the few, like myself, not doing drugs or committing crimes, but simply surviving in a world of little tolerance, waiting, hoping for that break to come to them that will put them if not back on top, at least a position to see the top and a new means to strive for it.
God gave us all compassion. Show a little the next time a homeless person smiles at you. Smile back. It can’t hurt and it will always help.
God bless those who read this and understand. I’m alone. You don’t need to be.
Michael