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"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing" – Benjamin Franklin

Posts tagged homeless

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This song is my legit anthem right now. Its my song. Bebe Rexha gets me. I have been STUCK these past couple of days. I didn’t help the homeless. I didn’t do anything good but go to confession. Which I don’t think the penance fits the crime but that isn’t for me to decide. I will do my penance times three. I have done so much to hurt people that obviously people hate me enough to not even want to say good bye to me. My going away party was last night and not one soul from work showed up. Not one single soul cared enough to show up. Does it hurt, hell yes it hurts worse than a fire ant sting, but did I expect it, yes. Why, because I feel like I deserve it. I deserve pain somehow and for some reason. I am very depressed right now and I have been since Friday morning. I think because I knew that no one was going to show up. I legit had a break down in front of the friends that did come. It wasn’t many but I let it ruin part of my night and obviously my Saturday. I loaded nothing for LuLaRoe which I could have made money on because I was depressed. I was sleepy so I slept. I wanted to pack so I packed. Then I slept. I cried because I wanted to. Then I slept some more then cleaned my house for a party that never happened and then it didn’t and today has been sort of the same. I did post in my VIP group and go to church so that has to count for something. And I’m still packing and cleaning. I’m just doing nothing for myself thats going to help get myself out of the hole I’m in because for some reason I feel like I deserve to be in this hole and that someone should just bury me. I can only say I’m sorry so much.

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I have so many things my heart wants to say to so many people right now its overwhelming to have the damn thing in my chest right now. There is nothing I can do and I have to live with that. I have to use “coping” skills because apparently this is just life. And I need to “suck it up”. Even Professor Lupin has been acting Warewolfish. Which is to be expected of course. WE ALL KNOW HARRY COULD NEVER KEEP A DARK ARTS TEACHER LOLOLOL  and I guess that stands true for me as well. Nor do I know if I want one to be honest.

I pray daily, moment to moment now actually that I make it to Columbus. Right now I don’t have the funds and I have no idea where to get the funds but something has to happen for me good right. I have put SOME GOOD out there. And with a box of jewelry just gone and all that I’ve been through you would imagine a miracle could happen just this once. I picture myself in my sisters rental. Walking in with the keys and unpacking all my stuff. I imagine hanging things on the wall and my cats getting settled in. I can picture it all and it makes me so happy I could cry because I just don’t know how I’m going to get there. I tremble with fear knowing I have to get my stuff out of this house by next weekend come hell or high water and I have no idea where I’m going to be. The streets? Columbus? A friends? Where will I end up? A great writer must live a great adventure but dang I wasn’t expecting this…..

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I don’t know how anyone can see a homeless person and not look down. If only for a second. We all know major cities and towns are going to be full of them that is just life. IT is what being below the poverty line has done, its what not being able to qualify for disability when someone really needs it gets turned down, its what being mentally ill and not being able to get help does to a person. Its HELL. I have lived it now. BRIEFLY but I have been behind the sign and will go behind the sign again today. Not for me but for THEM. The ones who have no one to look them in the eyes. The ones who remember my face because I had given them money and talked to them before. THEY REMEMBERED ME!!! And now when I have nothing to give they are helping me out telling me times to come back and when to come and trying to take care of me. There is such a strong calling in me to help these people. More so then to make money for my moving truck. If I make money for my moving truck thats fabulous but if not then God will provide some other way. I just know it. So do you want to know what it was like behind the sign? What it felt like to beg for money with a guitar and a case for 3 hours in the hot FL heat? Do you want to know what that feels like? What it taste like? What it sounds like? Listen close and I’ll tell you.

I started my journey later than I had intended to. Headed out, parked a good 8 blocks away from where I wanted to be sitting. First of all a guitar is heavy, so is a catholic Bible, (ya know, all those extra books lol) and then my water bottle. ITs FL so its HOT as all get out. Like I could have friend an egg on the cement had I had an egg. Anyway I’m walking down Palofax and I come upon a dang riot. Well riot is not a good word. “Gathering” “Supporters” with picket signs and the likes about SOMETHING. I don’t keep up with the news y’all. Its sad. I have enough sadness in my life. Something about supporting a congress man and I know they didn’t like Trump too much. I went LIVE with it on Facebook. I thought it was neat to walk up on that on my way to do this. So I watched that for a bit and then kept walking. I came upon a regular lady. A homeless lady who plays the guitar. She complemented mine and I said I would love to start a band. Haha apparently they prefer to work alone but I took no offense she told me where I could go. So I went down there. Along the way I passed another couple. They remembered me from when I had money and I used to always give them a dollar or a smoke. This time it was me on the other side. They were shocked. I’m sure a lot of them were. I assured them it was not a joke. WHO WOULD SIT IN THAT HEAT FOR A JOKE. Plus I would never want to take advantage of someone like that. So I sat below the Sanger theater sign. I played, and played and played, and played. People would walk by and not even look down. I would tear up. I was shocked someone didn’t call the cops on me for having an emotional break down on the street of Palofax. I’m a quiet crier though. I was crying not only for myself but the whole world of homeless people. They don’t even get treated like they are human. I had so many people cross the street just to avoid me. Do you know how that made me feel. The worst was when someone would reach in their pocket like they were going to give me something and I got excited and then they didn’t and I realized they put their hand in their pocket for protection. I would never take from someone else. And besides unless I use “the force” how am I supposed to get into your pocket?!? People are sooo weird. And its the little things that hurt and hell I’m sure I’ve been guilty of it. Do we realize how the small actions we do impact people on such a large scale. This is temporary for me I hope for them it is not. They have to live this everyday. The sounds were muted. I just heard my own thoughts and my guitar. I really don’t recall hearing anything else. The taste was dry and bitter. The feeling was awful. The concert was hot and my feet kept going to sleep and because I hadn’t eaten I couldn’t stand up. It was terrible. I was getting dehydrated NO ONE offered me water. Can we not show some compassion. I sang last night Palms 49 and I got $1 and finally had this creepy dude leave me alone. It was from a young boy. Teach your kids right. This little boy will never know what he did. That $1 didn’t go towards my moving truck. It went towards body wash for the homeless people of Palofax street. Supplies I’m bringing them tonight. I hope to make enough for a truck but this is for them not me. I’m bringing everything I can and hope it works. My bible and their stuff and my guitar is all I need. Wish me luck you guys!!!

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