Sometime in the Future
The future doesn't really exist. You know that.
I am still in downtown Austin. Yesterday I had lunch at a place called Caritas. That's "CARROT TOSS", for most people here to pronounce. Ha. Carrot Toss. Fuck if I'm not in the ghetto, I'm damn close. I had an opportunity to obtain a medical card yesterday, and got free tampons. I also scored some sunscreen, and some other personal hygiene goodies. I now have a clinic, and am in a program that grants help for obtaining the pill.
Today, I waited in the crack alley after having breakfast at the church on Lavaca and 13th. A sophomore from a local college brought me underwear and prayed that Belle would feel loved in my absence. Next week, I'll be able to pick up a Nalgene bottle. The church serves biscuits, gravy, eggs, juice, pastries, and coffee. They offer other services as well.
There are two beautiful black women who sleep near me. They make me laugh. They have grace, and I love them. I also love the tall, slanky boy with blond bangs hanging in his eyes. He plays the piano with fingers like tree branches and his teeth are as rotten as my soul sometimes feels. His music, isn't for anyone, it's "for God" he tells the men who heckle him.
I like standing in line for donated hot meals. I like to look at my neighbors in the eye and nod my head. I like starting from scratch.
In the alley, it smells like fecal matter and piss. The alley is where the crack heads sleep. The alley is the lane which leads to the shelter door.
The shelter is where I shower. It's where I sleep.
An indigo painted pick-up truck pulled up this morning and I climbed in, relieved not to have to wait in that place any longer. I am blessed to have been offered a ride to the Social Security office and I won't get a SS card until I have my passport sent to me from California. After that, I may obtain a Texas i.d.
I haven't had a drop of alcohol since Sunday. My last drink is a two dollar Pabst from a bar on Sixth Street. I enjoyed every cold sip.
I could scream, I am so blessed to be going through this with Anabelle safe in California. Today, is awesome because I am allowed to stay out of the shelter until 10 pm. Normally, 7.
Fuck. I hate the shelter smell. I hate the shelter mentality. I hate the shelter filth. You know, it's very nice not to feel comfortable at the shelter. Many do. Oh yes my friends, many do.
I am still in downtown Austin. Yesterday I had lunch at a place called Caritas. That's "CARROT TOSS", for most people here to pronounce. Ha. Carrot Toss. Fuck if I'm not in the ghetto, I'm damn close. I had an opportunity to obtain a medical card yesterday, and got free tampons. I also scored some sunscreen, and some other personal hygiene goodies. I now have a clinic, and am in a program that grants help for obtaining the pill.
Today, I waited in the crack alley after having breakfast at the church on Lavaca and 13th. A sophomore from a local college brought me underwear and prayed that Belle would feel loved in my absence. Next week, I'll be able to pick up a Nalgene bottle. The church serves biscuits, gravy, eggs, juice, pastries, and coffee. They offer other services as well.
There are two beautiful black women who sleep near me. They make me laugh. They have grace, and I love them. I also love the tall, slanky boy with blond bangs hanging in his eyes. He plays the piano with fingers like tree branches and his teeth are as rotten as my soul sometimes feels. His music, isn't for anyone, it's "for God" he tells the men who heckle him.
I like standing in line for donated hot meals. I like to look at my neighbors in the eye and nod my head. I like starting from scratch.
In the alley, it smells like fecal matter and piss. The alley is where the crack heads sleep. The alley is the lane which leads to the shelter door.
The shelter is where I shower. It's where I sleep.
An indigo painted pick-up truck pulled up this morning and I climbed in, relieved not to have to wait in that place any longer. I am blessed to have been offered a ride to the Social Security office and I won't get a SS card until I have my passport sent to me from California. After that, I may obtain a Texas i.d.
I haven't had a drop of alcohol since Sunday. My last drink is a two dollar Pabst from a bar on Sixth Street. I enjoyed every cold sip.
I could scream, I am so blessed to be going through this with Anabelle safe in California. Today, is awesome because I am allowed to stay out of the shelter until 10 pm. Normally, 7.
Fuck. I hate the shelter smell. I hate the shelter mentality. I hate the shelter filth. You know, it's very nice not to feel comfortable at the shelter. Many do. Oh yes my friends, many do.