It’s been a very long time, hasnit? It went by too fast for this kid. So much has happened since I last wrote here for such a small span of time. So much that I don’t know where to begin. What’s it been? Some five years? Wait….

WARNING:

sarcastic

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SIX YEARS (yea, hard to fathom)!!!!

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I’ve definitely been away for far too long!

Holy shit!

It’s time to start writing once again, and not stop this time. The reason it stopped last time is… life. Just pure, shit life. It’s still a shit life but every once in a while it gets better because cool people come ’round where I’m at, a homeless shelter in Cheyenne, WY. I’ve also been on Facebook, and have cool people there around me. Very special people, each and every one. However, I need to get away from Facebook for a while. It’s affording me very bad things like procrastination from what I should be doing, because I haven’t had the will to do what I should be doing. Does it matter at the end of the day? Yes. Because I’m homeless and need to buckle down to find work, to get housing, all the “amenities,” “perks,” “free welfare,” “benefits”… all those goodies we shouldn’t have according to the governments because homeless people can just die (which by the way is what they are doing in the states – dying). I love the attitude of the rich. If I could I’d eat them. Maybe then I could have all their money and music. MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC! MUSIC, I tell you!!!

I was evicted from my apartment in September of 2011 because I couldn’t keep up with rent. I’d lost my job. Need I say more there? Thank you, 1%. Thank you, former employers, I loved that job. It utilized the skills that I have, as well as the kind of heart I have. I care for others. A lot. I was working for New Mexico Workforce Connection, making what at that time was seen as good pay. Here’s a twist for you: Employment Recruiter gets laid off. Would’ve made a helluva headline at the time. My landlord helped me file for disability, as my lower back had got much worse, and at the time I was very depressed, not knowing what I should – or wanted – to do with my life? It’s kind of like when a marriage breaks up and you’re taking your first step into your new place from it. Know that feeling? I do.

My landlord also helped me for about a year, but nothing broke in a 56% UNemployment market, it was too hard to find. The dairy industry had pretty much closed down in Portales, taking the whole economy there; jobs lost, etc. etc. You know the drill. It was the time of the second major financial crash in the U.S., the 2010 one. When a year was up, my landlord couldn’t handle it any more and handed me an eviction notice. I appreciated him helping me up to that point, so I wasn’t going to fight it. Why should I? Bite the hand that feeds me? Oh hell no. I’m not the kind of person to take advantage of people like that and then screw them over (although I know plenty of people like that. I hate them all).

(Still in 2011) With no money, no time, no anything, I had to be out of the apartment, and accepted that fact. I just didn’t know what to do? I checked out schools in Colorado, and homeless shelters there. I decided to go up to Colorado Springs and go to CTU (epic fail for two quarters), where I’d be close to my mom. With the help of a very good old friend (she’s not old, our friendship is lol) I got everything packed and stored at my friend’s. I took off for Colorado Springs in my (what I thought was) trusty ’87 Acura Legend. Along the way, the car blew the main transmission seal. I had to put in tranny fluid seemed like every five minutes on the way. It was a nightmare. I junked it at Colorado Springs, and headed for the shelter. I knew it was eat shit and die time. I’d never been in this place before.

eat-shit-die

Well! THAT was an experience for a couple of years, in and out of the shelter. I had places with roommates temporarily and briefly from my school money, but it seems that most who want a roommate, in this area, want those with meth on them! It always fell apart at some point, usually in a couple months, and I’d land back at the shelter, because see, I’m not a drug addict. I’m just not. Neither am I an alcoholic. How’s that for busting your damn stigmas of the homeless? Oh, and it does something else, too. It robs me of services. It used to be back in the day that the people who stayed clean were rewarded. Not any more. You have to be a meth head to get services now.

In October 2013, my middle child in Portales decided she wanted to help get me on my feet. She has issues with rheumatoid arthritis (among others), and wanted help with my grandson Connor. She’s also quite the drunk and is verbally abusive when she is drunk. Yep, she tried pulling that on me, so I left for the shelter in Clovis, stayed there for 90 days, just to land on the streets until my son Sammy got us both into a place. That turned out great <sarcasm>, my son ended up leaving Clovis for an opportunity in Farmington in March. I’m supposed to stay back with his meth head buddies? Hell no. Back to the shelter I went. In October of 2014, a supposed “friend” invited me up to Wyoming. Like an idiot I went. This supposed friend ended up stranding me here in Cheyenne. Off to the shelter I go. At least I had the job that this friend couldn’t get! I was given an automatic in on it and made it. 🙂  Caregiving for the developmentally disabled, no lifting required.

All this time, I was fighting for disability with a lawyer. Denials at every turn, all the way up, even thought my doctor’s records talked all the way through about my “disabilities.” Well, you know how those bastards are. Gotta be a drug addict to get disability. Nothing else will do. At the end of it all in November 2014, my final appeal came through as denied. Said I could take it now to civil court, and in effect sue Social Security for the disability. I’d need a different lawyer, how much money to start in civil court? No way I could. What I did was become very angry (still am) at the U.S. government. Bitter… This is the reason I was homeless this whole time!!! Fighting for that because I couldn’t make any money because I was filing for it!!! I quit totally with the government (talk about not being able to get your own money out of the bank). Let me hear loud cheer #1 for “FU U.S.A., FU U.S.A., FUCK YOU USA!!!

There was one time through it all that I was happy. In fact, it was probably the first time in my life that I’d ever been happy, and I was HAPPY. Dec. 24, 2012, I landed at Glasgow International Airport. Yes, you read right. I spent the next four months with Joste in Kildrum, Cumbernauld, and when I left I left my whole heart, plus some other things there, in the faith that I’d be back soon. Right. That happened. Not. When I got back to the states, the country seemed so different from the time I left. Let’s call it worse, much worse, shall we? Back to a shelter I landed, and I’ve been there since.

I don’t know if it got dug this deep in my soul or what from these last years, but insofar as homelessness in and of itself goes, I’m numb to it. If I sit and think about that though, I’ll blow. To the sky.

Now what am I doing? Well, it’s debatable that I’m doing anything at all. Looking for work. Looking for work. Looking for work. Sitting on my ass. Since I got back from Scotland, I’ve been to mental hospital three times. Tried more times to go down. Straight down. But now, instead, I’m being a nihilist, someone who sees no point to life (but this isn’t new for me). We are born, we go through nothing but shit upon shit through our lives, we break up with loves of our lives on top of everything else, we go homeless and can’t seem to be able to come up from it, then we die. We are…

Being depressed.

… It’s a bitch.

… It’s pointless.

… I feel very old at 56. My body’s breaking down, and my mind has gone well beyond its snapping point. I’m medicated for everything, but nothing seems to help. Nothing. Damn pills, they make one crazy. Ever researched them? And what’s this with docs being so fucking scared of giving someone a real pain pill? If I’m to be out of pain the rest of my life, I’m going to have to be addicted to something! But no.

… I’ve had help along the way. A huge thank you to those who have helped.

… And I still don’t know what I should – or want – to do with my life?

And now you know… the rest of the story (Paul Harvey style).

See you next time, same bat time, same bat channel (hopefully a more secure one), and please, do click up one of the links on the right sidebar of my home page. They’re helpful for people.  😉

pointless

Oh! There will also be computer discussion as we go! Love my Linux! 😀

You can’t quit until you try
You can’t live until you die
You can’t learn to tell the truth
Until you learn to lie

You can’t breathe until you choke
You gotta laugh when you’re the joke
There’s nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

I know some things that you don’t
I’ve done things that you won’t
There’s nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home

I was waiting for my hearse
What came next was so much worse
It took a funeral to make me feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Alive…
Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

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