I woke up soaking wet. It had poured all night, a cold rain heralding Fall. The windy kind that takes the leaves off the trees and portends Winter. My little blue $30 Walmart sleeping bag was soaked. I loved the little bag, but it would be no match for October. I was cold, shivering, and my socks, leggings, and hat were soaked through. My head-ached, and I had such bad indigestion my stomach hurt in waves of cramps and pain—acid making it’s way up my throat as I tried to keep it at bay. I had spent the night fitfully twisting and turning in what seemed like another round of tainted food and hate from people I didn’t know.
Indigestion was becoming another regular occurrence. I had thought originally it was from menopause and officially entering middle-age at 55, but I was finding it was sabotage. I was always very conscious about what I ate after having and overcoming an eating disorder, so I had some idea. As I kept track, it was obvious my food was being tainted. It sounded crazy, but I knew after 20yrs of this type of Gaslighting I knew better than to make excuses anymore or to doubt myself regardless of how many of these people colluded to pretend I was “crazy!” They had done that from the beginning!
I had a sub-zero sleeping bag I had bought on sale. I was so happy to get it, they are so expensive. It was light-weight, cool black-color and shipped quickly. I wish I could remember where I got it.
Cops stole the cool sleeping bag when they stole my car. I remember how scared I was, pleading for my car, confused because I had always paid my insurance, had a car since I was 16yrs old, and had a commute of close to an hour for the past 20yrs to Albany NY back when it wasn’t so easy to hop in the car and go there. People thought of it as going to the “Big City!” in my small city outside of the Capital, but I loved working and shopping there, especially because no matter where I applied in my hometown I was usually denied jobs. I drove junkers until I was 40yrs old, so happy to have saved and bought my first new car. My ex-husband had a fit and raged for days about me buying a Nissan and looking back now jealous I could buy a car all by myself!
“Your too close to the fire-hydrant!” they yelled through the door, 5-6 of them. I was told by the landlord to park there, the plows just went by and the car seemed pretty far away—a small black Nissan Sentra. I loved the car and had been sleeping in it. Me and my sweet dog Bentley. It was also alternate parking, but people really never parked on the other side, the landlord had said, because the street was so narrow. The cops left after almost kicking in the door. This was becoming a regular occurrence.
When I went out to move the car later, they surrounded the car and arrested me, then told me I had expired registration, license, no insurance—too close to fire-hydrant! I just got new insurance cards and had pleaded with my ex-husband for a copy of our policy. He took all the important documents when he had me arrested and put on the street. I also called our insurance provider, but he threatened to arrest me. I called the police station before I was arrested to ask if I’m stopped, what do I do? “You have insurance,” the sergeant said! there should be no problem! but I need the policy I said. “I can’t help you,” he sneered. I also explained this to the abusive Adlitem I was forced to have after the Judge and cops accused me of being “Agitated” after pushing the door in and arresting me another time. My ex-husband had been harassing me, but it was me they arrested. They have arrested me now over 18x now maybe 20x, I’m losing track! The one recently was, “Criminal Trespass,” from an Abandoned House I was trying to fix up, and acquire, with guns pointed at me—10pm at night.
I was in clothes I wear to bed with a pair of Clark’s, which were decent clogs at $50, but on the street, things are destroyed quickly. My go-bag wasn’t updated and many personal items were downstairs in the other bathroom. Some important papers and notebooks there too. I had relaxed a bit, bought flowers for the porch, a cool black plastic urn with my dollar mum in it, and a plastic chair—a little bit of home. I could finally have another home, and fix up an old abandoned house. I had already cleaned so much after only 2 months—the damage was everywhere and time consuming.
I had already bought quite a few things to make it a home, just small things, but it adds up. I probably have purchased 6-7 coffee-makers, blenders, can-openers, and the same things for the bathroom over and over again—all stolen, destroyed, or forced to leave. Forget clothes and other items. I had just purchased a little radio, and some batteries. I loved music and missed all the stereos I had, my ex getting them all! I just purchased 2 Stevie Nicks tapes—I was a little happy after so much hell.
“You have to have good equipment!” my ex-husband would lecture all the time, spending hours with his friends on the phone talking about “new sliders,” or the new sled he needed every couple of years. Sliders he needed all the time for his Snowmobile trips. I was happy when he was happy and I spent my money on things to keep us comfortable, safe, and happy at home.
I grew up on Welfare, and loved that now I had a successful career going I could buy what I wanted within reason. Modest success, but enough to buy the comforts of home I loved. We also bought a vacation property, my pride and joy—a place on the lake. I bought things like oil lamps, kerosene heaters, and had recently bought a generator. I loved buying cords of wood in the Fall, so happy to know we would always be warm. What I didn’t know was my ex was buying strippers in Canada; plotting to steal all I had bought, worked for, paid for, and put me on the street!
I bought a $7 Tarp at Dollar General, but it leaked all night. I had glanced at the misleading label that read, “water, mildew—resistant. Resistant was the word I missed thinking it meant, “Waterproof!” In a hurry; cold, tired, and not having much money, I was grateful to get a Tarp. I had lots of, “Blue Tarps,” they are wonderful, lifesaving, and come in handy for so much, but my ex stole all of them!
There are no stores in my downtown now. It’s criminal to not only deny people food—there is no grocery store! but decent supplies. The Tarp was a waste of money. I saw no blue tarps and wondered why bother selling junk like a tarp that leaks! The poor are often forced to shop this way. Cutting-ribbons, giving speeches about business's here, people like Rep Paul Tonko pontificate about, but yet like the grey Tarp never delivers! Business’s open then close.
Having the right “equipment,” makes all the difference, but that’s the point! We pretend to care, but actually things are setup to make it seem like we do, but don’t! What would the wealthy do if there were no poor?—no homeless! What would it be to provide me with a, “Blue Tarp” $20 as opposed to $7, while more expensive, I would have been covered, not soaking-wet. The silly clogs I’m wearing not more ruined. My feet not calloused and raw from the cold and wearing the wrong shoes after being forced to walk everywhere after cops stole my new car and forced me on the street deliberately making me homeless! and now again after cops arrested me for seeking shelter after being so sick I was forced to enter an Abandoned house after sleeping on an abandoned porch for 4 months! I have been violently removed by them over 20x now!
I know buying the $7 lead me to think I had saved money and many times being poor means you have to settle for things inferior because well, “your poor!” condemning you as a human being along with living on modest means, as if that means your not worth being human either—Homeless Whore!
Sign says “no backpacks!” on the door into ACE hardware. Stacks of old garden soil, mulch, wood-chips, lined the outside that should have already been sold. I asked if I could leave my pack at the door, an elderly gentleman ignores me and finishes up with a customer then pretends not to see me. His black colleague tells me “it’s ok,” to leave it there by the door and what seemed like the owner/manager comes flying out of the back, says condescendingly, “makes it easier on both of us!” What did that mean? I thought—then I got it. I was still tired, soaking-wet, and now scared to get a Blue Tarp. I don’t steal,” I quipped. “If u don’t steal, u can’t come in!” he snidely remarked, pretending to be talking to the elderly clerk. What? I thought, this is crazy. “I don’t steal,” I repeated. After they just stared at me, I said sarcastically, “obviously this isn’t the place for me,” and I left!
It was now official no matter where I went here, this was the treatment I received. Dirty looks, sneers—contempt. I crossed into the Mall, a dark disgusting place that belies the filth by shell-lacking the floors so much it seems like your walking on water, but looking closer underneath the shell-lack is dirty piles of grime, deep marks, and urine-colored peeling stripes that look like you’ll slip and fall into some gross vat of yellow sticky glue. Signs everywhere tell you to “Not Trespass!” Why do we need signs in a mall to tell us this? I wanted to sit and rest a bit, but there was no place to sit, like your just passing through the gateway to hell. Once you start walking around you start to realize it’s not the modern, lighted, high-end malls of the 1980s we were told were the hallmarks of the good life!
A woman sneered at me as I walked past. I quess she seems to think she’s still rocking the 80s malls, maybe it’s the pollution here. All the old crumbling Mills and the chemicals still wafting from all the broken sewer and leaking gas pipes not fixed since the hey days of the Industrial revolution.
Marilyn Manson has been on my mind lately, I remember the interview he did with O’Reilly and schooled him on being such a pompous ass. I liked him and loved his video, “Beautiful People,” I wasn’t sure about his recent sexual assault charges, whether he was setup by sexual predators like O’Reilly, but I knew the realities he created were coming to life!
I’m cast as a “Homeless Whore” by the good ole’ boys reality here—White Supremacy . It doesn’t take long to create one. We have been doing it since I was a girl and forced on Welfare, which today I know was the “Whore program!”
Generational Lawyers here that forced me on welfare as a kid and denied me my family, spending their wealthy leisurely days now having, “White Parties, in my old middle-class neighborhood and seeing how much they can steal from you before your forced to give $20 blowjobs or want to drown in drugs because life on the streets is so horrible. I prefer to drink a little now, I would rather have weed, but that’s another fuckery story. It’s legal, but ha ha try buying it somewhere. “Your a drunk,” now I’m told too. How convenient, you can’t be a homeless whore and not do drugs. Having sex with these disgusting men here, I can see would do that to a woman.
Tonight I have no Blue Tarp and no place to get one in our wonderful “Downtown!” here, but I hear Tonko in the distance somewhere talking something about building something better. Did I miss what he has been building? Something better than what—nothing? Was there something? I have to start watching more Manson videos when I can get a charge somewhere around here.
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