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

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I have seen things I cannot unsee. I have second hand partaken in things I wish I could say I didn’t. All I was trying to do was help. Thats all I ever want to do is to help. My second day on the street was my last. OR so I thought. IT was the last day I would be out there begging although I did go back tonight to help and bring bags a friend helped me put together. Thats when I saw things I wish I could unsee. We will get to that. But first let me to you about Jason. Jason was this sweet boy, well guy. Probably my age. Who is homeless and lives on the streets. He has nothing. He has only himself. I took a liking to him on my first day. He walked by me and read my sign and said “yup, thats what I’m always saying”. So on my second day I figured I would see if he wanted to sit with me. Maybe a couple would make more money? And we could split it evenly? He agreed and we went down to the Sanger Theater. I got to know Jason. I got to know how sweet a soul he has. We had been in the heat for over an hour and I hadn’t eaten all day and I could only imagine. I had a few bucks on my LLR card and knew they had half off pizza at a downtown pizza place so I asked if he had eaten today…he didn’t say anything. He just up and left. He came back with subway and gave it to me. I asked where he got it he said “money”. Its true, the homeless take care of each other. I wish I hadn’t gotten the news I got tonight. Anyway that was just the beginning of Jason and mines adventure that night. We saw an Eagle Scout and I was able to say I was a Gold Award Recipient. Not sure how good that looks but I said it. It doesn’t matter what you do in your youth you can still make mistakes as an adult that can lead you to begging on the street and I hope his mother had a long talk with him and I wish I could have shared my story with him. I wish I had had the courage then instead of now. To tell him the mistakes I made and what not to do. Maybe thats what my book will be. A guide of what NOT to do. Seems fitting. I know everything that DOESN’T work. Jason and I also met a future congress man Phil Ehr. With whom I got to express my deep concern for the mentally ill and the homeless. He squatted down and got to our level and LISTENED TO US!!! How inspiring. I will definitely vote for him. NOT because of his party, not because of his opinions on anything but because of his compassion and the fact that he looked at me and treated me like a real person who had a real vote and a real opinion that mattered. Thats why. I hope one day he is our president and I get to look back on the time I met our president. With my friend Jason. Who will live forever in my heart. I may never get to say goodbye to him. I went back downtown after I left that night. Jason and I made out with $6 a piece. Which is good for 3 hours I suppose. Anyway I brought Jason a comforter I wasn’t using so that he wouldn’t be sleeping on cement. Well tonight when I went to deliver the bags my friend and I made up “Little momma” said he went to jail and they took his comforter. I blessed him with Rose oil that night in the name of the father and the son and the Holy Spirit. I don’t know if I did it right. If I did then may be jail saved him. He had a roof and three square meals a day. But I wouldn’t wish jail on anyone and they took the blanket I gave him. I hope they give it back or put it with his things. He is a real person. Those are his things. They may not be much but those are his! My heart hurts for selfish reasons. I wanted to see him one more time. I wanted to say goodbye. Knowing he is safe makes me feel good though. But I hurt. I hurt for what I saw tonight. I saw a lady do heroine. My high school sweet heart died of a heroine overdose. I told her that. I told her not to do too much. She told me not to give people any more money. I said “yes ma’am”. Knowing I had just contributed to the heroine she was smoking. Did I give her a lot of money? HELL NO. I don’t have much to give. She was making a point to a sweet naive little girl. The world is cruel. The world is sad. The world is broken. And my heart alone is not big enough to fix it. I have come to realize this and it breaks my heart even more. I can’t take anymore emotions tonight. I just wanted to deliver bags to the homeless. Not learn life lessons and have old wounds brought up and find out that a good friend will never know the impact he made on my life. Y’all take it one roe at a time. I’m off to bed for now.

 

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Sam came into his east hill apartment around 12:30am. He always felt terrible not staying the night at charlottes. But alas he was allergic to her cats. He threw his Iron and Wine record on and tossed his hand stitched brief case to the side. He was just as over today as Charolette was. Life on Wall Street wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be. It took a lot of work. Before he became a broker, Sam was a world traveling chef. He used to travel the world writing blogs about the different cultures and foods he encountered. What with that not making the rent and with his parents split he needed to do something else. He needed to grow up so to speak. Get a REAL job. Stop “playing” around as everyone called it. Charlotte always called it “art” and said he should always follow his dreams. Thats one of the things he loved so much about her. There was so much naivety to her. Like she had seen so much hurt and pain of the world that instead of it making her bitter and hostile it made her more of a lover. Sam however was not a lover by any means. Nor was he cold. He just didn’t show much emotion. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t have any.

Miles away across town Charlotte lay in her bed wishing she didn’t have cats listening to her own created station on pandora. It sucked sleeping alone in such a big big city. “I can’t wait to get back to the country”, Charlotte sighed out loud to any of her cats that would listen. If she did in fact lose her job she will have lost everything. She basically lived pay check to pay check anyway so this was going to hit hard. She knew would have to move back home. It was her only option. But how. How would this even be feasible? She didn’t even have money for a truck. Before she knew it she was dozing off at her laptop while trying to finish one more article to try and save her job. Would it work? She hoped it would. She loved her job. She was good at it. It was the first actual writing job she had ever gotten and she didn’t want to lose it now. There wasn’t many people at the “Daily Harold” that actually LIKED Charolette. She was sort of on the different side. She used the “L” word which scared people like they were cock roaches running from fire. All this weighed on Charlotte as she laid in bed staring up at the ceiling. She couldn’t even find a man who could stand to stay the night with her.

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There once was a girl who never in her life thought she would be coupled into all three categories but somehow she was. This is the story of how this all came to be.

So there she was just a tapping, tapping at her computer as Eric Clapton played in the background on her record player. She had to get this article in before her boss went a wall. This was the second time she was late for her article and it was all because she had been sick the past few months. Luckily she had been able to keep her job because she was such a great writer. Her long blonde hair fell carelessly over her face as she brushed it aside to hit the send button. Before she knew it her cat Hemingway had jumped on her computer and hit delete. She knew this was the last straw. She knew her job was done for. She literally had $300 in the bank and a pile of unopened mail. This was not good. Instead of losing her mind she grabbed her headphones, pulled her hair into a pony tail and went for a run downtown. On her run she passed many beggars on the street. Not knowing in the coming days this would be her. Not knowing she would be considered a prostitute by her own family. Not knowing any of this she ran. She ran so hard and fast. Sweat pouring down her face she imagining running from all the things stressing her out, her finances, her lack of stability, her on going mental health issues, her lack of resources and a support system, and finally her lack of love. She had never ran so hard in her life. When she made it back to her apartment there was a pleasant surprise waiting there for her. It was Sam. Sam was the guy she was seeing. He was a broker on wall street. They weren’t serious but that didn’t mean they didn’t like each other or respect each other. No one even said they didn’t have love for each other. They were just both at time in each others lives where a relationship didn’t fit. Sam always made Charlotte happy.

“How was your day” Sam asked as Charlotte got her keys from her shoelace.

“Fine I guess”, Even though she really wanted to say “it was awful, terrible, the cat freaking lost me my job probably but other than that I’m just great.”

You see Sam and Charlotte had only been together a couple of weeks so she didn’t feel exactly comfortable telling him EVERYTHING just yet.

“You look exhausted” Sam said as he caressed the charlottes lower back.

“YOU have NO idea” She exclaimed as they walked up the stairs to her apartment.

Before the key was in the lock they were in an embrace that not even nature itself could break. When the door opened Sam began to take Charlottes clothes off piece by piece and place in her dirty clothes hamper. He ran the shower for her. Once she was in the shower Sam decided to join her. Once he was in the shower with her their bodies became a blur of one through the fogged over glass shower door.

 

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The real reason I’m leaving FL is really so complicated. The last words DPL said to me was “Giving up got you to where you are now”. Was he talking about Pensacola? Was he talking about the little ghetto I live in. My neighbors are actually really nice. What was he referring to. That statement has eaten away at me since I moved here in February and I guess thats when I started to not be myself at work and things started to fail for me at work. When things start going downhill at your job its never good and I was doing soooo well. Sooo so well. It was totally my thing. I was great at it. I let one phrase haunt me. And I think it was meant to do that. I don’t know. I’ll never know because he has since cut off all communication with me. Was he referring to my life in general? Was he saying my life now sucked? What was he getting at? I still had some brief hope for LOVE between us because there was so much history between us and I always envisioned being with him the rest of my life. So I stayed in FL. There were a couple of MINOR/MAJOR reasons too I stayed. My doctors were here. But now that I know there is no hope for me and DPL and no hope for me at a job I loved sooo sooo very much I am going back to where it all started. Columbus MS. Not everyone knows my story. This is where you’ll hear my story. One day I’ll compile it into a book with the help of an editor. But for now it is a blog. A blog about writing whatever I feel is relevant at the time in my life. Right now figuring out WHY I am leaving is relevant. Am I running away?

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Me and one of my best friends tried to get down to the root of why things broke down at my job but I left out the haunting phrase my ex left with me with because it wasn’t until this morning it hit me how relevant that was to me. I will however always find people in the work environment that don’t like me and maybe even choose to make fun of me. Some people never grow up. I need to take that like the strong woman I am and not let it get to me like I did. But little did these co workers know I had soooo much more going on. And I can’t fault that for that. I also need to stop talking things so personal. Not everything is a personal shot. Also we know there will be douche bags everywhere you go. The thing is I’m choosing not to date when I go to Columbus. Like AT ALL. NO ONE. NOT EVEN MY CELEBRITY CRUSH. I will be single for a year. I’m old I know. Its probably not the wisest choice since I do want kids and a family one day should that be the path God has for me but ya know, maybe its not. And thats okay. I’m okay with that.

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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’m taking a break from my story line of my homeless missionary to talk about “the cool kids” something I’ve never been. Something I’ve fought to be my whole life and I don’t know why. I’m obsessed with being a “cool kid” and well, guys, its just never going to happen. Its like in the movie “The Invention of lying” I could be famous and a millionaire and I’m still going to be labeled a “loser”. Its the way of the world. I’m hot but thats about it. I’m smart but I’m nerdy and I’m awkward. For crying out loud I walked down palofax carrying a comforter to a homeless dude, cool kids don’t do that. They just don’t. I am a 4 on the enneagram which is the “individualist” which means my personality type won’t allow me to conform to society or its really hard for me. I am trying to do whats right in my heart right now. I left my job because it was the right thing to do. I didn’t fit in at my job because I am not a cool kid and I let it really really get to me and yea things can get to a harassment level pretty quick. And when harassment happens it can cause us to hold grudges or act subconsciously in a way we normally wouldn’t act. I said things I should not have said. I hurt people I can’t take back. And I have to live with that. Will they think the same about the things they said to me that hurt, I don’t know.

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You will meet people who will love you just the way you are. Those are your people. Your tribe. The ones you can count on. The ones who love you without question, who will FORGIVE you when you mess up. Those are real friends. The rest, well they don’t matter do they? You matter. So take care of you and remove the people that don’t care so you can make room for the people that do. I have a going away party tonight and I know that people will be there, not many but the people that matter.

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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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As I sit here and think of what else I can sell to make money I consider taking myself to the main strip with my guitar and trying to make a few bucks singing and dancing, I would bring my bible and just do and say what the Lord said. I would make a sign that said “Homeless unless I can afford a moving truck in a week, will not strip.” I don’t know what else to do. The fact of the matter is I will be homeless if I don’t get a moving truck. I was laying here sobbing and thinking if today would be a good day to die. I know morbid but just a thought and I realized it was mine and my high school sweet hearts anniversary. We lost our virginities together so he is super special in my heart and is no longer with us. I whispered “Happy anniversary Will” and the one song he always said was about me came on my pandora so I knew he heard.

You may not believe in the afterlife but I do. I know he heard me. Its been a year and a half since I lost him. I have taken hit after hit after hit. My child hood best friend is no longer with me. The man who took me in as his own is no longer here. So many lost loves. So much pain. And now to bear the thought of becoming homeless the only thing I have is my faith. That is what Will tried so hard to cling to. And thats what I shall cling to. I will bring my guitar that he talked me into getting and go down to Palofax street and sing and dance and play with my bible and just sing and hope people tip me for being goofy. I don’t see myself as a beggar in the street, well maybe I am but I will provide entertainment I can guarantee that lol I still haven’t decided if begging on the street will really solve anything. When you’ve hit rock bottom you’re brain goes into overdrive trying to think of ideas on which how you can survive. Survival and not on the streets is the one thing you have got to keep in mind. And how to be moral about all of it. Someone told me to steal napkins from places, y’all I can’t even do that. I can’t even do that. If they give me extra thats fine. But I won’t steal. I’ll ask. Hell I can’t even afford fast food to get the extra damn napkins lol so no I’m not running in Taco Bell taking some napkins and running out. Nope. Not going to happen. I figure 5 will be a good time to go down to Palofax. I’ve got to tune my guitar. Is this really a good idea?

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I would like to metaphorically be the “great king” and not the “street beggar”. My “thought world” was so sick for so long that I go so screwed up finically that now that I’m well I can’t get my head above water. I know its my own fault but I just want to breathe. Maybe I need to hit homeless shock bottom. I can still write my blog at coffee shops. I’ll stink lol but I can do it. I’ll start over and get a job somewhere. I don’t know just thinking about the worse case scenario. Being on the streets is a very very scary thought. But its a very real thought.

 

 

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I hate leaving. I hate saying goodbye. I try to be funny and silly but y’all I am bawling my eyes out the entire ride to wherever it is that I’m going. I don’t do so well before saying goodbye either. You know the saying or the saying that its easier to push people away then it is to say goodbye. Yea, well, I do that. I think, well, I know I did that. Have done that recently and maybe even tonight. I can’t help that I don’t do well with goodbyes and that subconsciously I will come up with reasons to make people NOT want to see me. NOT want to say goodbye. What sense does that make? None. I never said I made sense. I do not come with a disclaimer. I must warn you of that.

If I did life would probably be much easier for me, people would know what to expect. I have to learn the hard way. I have to experience things for myself. Thats the way I learn, is by experience, so therefore if you enable me I don’t learn anything. I get worse. I get sicker. I am fixing all of that. I have hit rock bottom. I am selling everything so I can pay debts back. I will ride a bike. I do not care. I hope it has a pretty little basket. With a little bell too! Through all my pain I’m trying to think positive I just have to figure out how I’m going to get the title to my car and how I’m going to sell it in two weeks. Thats the issue. I know it can be done but HOW. HOW. I HAVEN’T  had a migraine in 5 months and I have one right now thinking about how I’m going to move in less than two weeks. I’m sick to my stomach. I can’t afford a taco much less a moving truck. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I try so hard to support my friends and I get over whelmed and I’ll admit I do like pretty things but I get caught up in the madness that is life. That is trying to do the right thing. Trying to help. I forget about ME! And here I am leaving so I can be alone with ME dang it. I need some alone time. I’ll miss every soul that has touched my life here which is so so so so so many people but I am so happy to be leaving. Just not real sure how its going to happen at this point. I’m also deciding to quit taking valium all together. I thinks thats also why I feel like poop. With drawls are no fun. I hope all my rivers here have bridges and if they be crushes may they be able to be mended through the work of the powerful and mighty beaver over time. Leaving sucks. It just does. But coming home is exciting. Lets just hope I can make it!

 

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Do you know what its like to go blind over someone? Have you ever listened to the words of this song? I know what its like. I have experienced a love that wasn’t planned or wanted or expected. And I still don’t understand it. I don’t question what life puts in front of me. I just greet it with a smile, sometimes with a confused look. None the less I acknowledge it as a feeling as something there. Even though it maybe nothing I still see it as there. I go blind when I look into his eyes and see them sparkle back. I go blind when I see his smile. I go blind when he makes me smile. I will miss him greatly but its a sacrifice I’m willing to make for a better life. Love isn’t everything in life like they make it out to be in tv and movies. Yes it can fuel you and get you by but it isn’t going to pay your bills unless your after the wrong kind of love. I however am not. I’ve never had a crush on a professor before. Its not against the rules seeing as how I’m not a student but its still strange. Usually I am on the same level, I have never fallen for someone so high above me. ahahah Tal Bacman. Anyone? Anyone? High above me? Anyway. There is no reason he should be with someone like me. He could perceivably do much better in the dating pool as far as finical stability and power goes. I won’t always be at the bottom of the totem pole. One day I’ll own the bitch. One day. Not today. Not tomorrow. But one day.

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Don’t wait around. I had never played volleyball until today because I was scared I would suck at it. Well come to find out I don’t. I am actually quite good at it considering I had no idea what I was doing. Take risk, take chances, try new things, play the drums if you want dang it. No one is stopping you but you. Are you going blind in a bad way? Can you not see whats right in front of you? All the chances? Take a look in the mirror. What are you blind to? Who makes you go blind? Is it a good thing? or do they distract you from the ultimate mission? Think about this.

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