The next 50 years

How it feels to live on the street in a bus.  Lousy. Truly lousy. People regard me as a problem, not as a person. I'm not a human anymore.  I'm maybe a zombie or something? I have no rights anymore. I have no power.   It feels so stressful.  Got a citation letting me know I have change blocks every 24 hrs.  Now I know why this spot was open.  The hate is such a focused mental energy I can feel it even when it's not in sight.  My brake leak problem continues but if I flip the goofy lever switch it stops?  Maybe?  Honestly, I don't get how that lever works or what it does.  It's like, if it's up when I start the bus, I get a constant buzz.  If it's down when I run the bus, it leaks fluid all over the floor from the leaky seals I can't afford to fix. I'v e been going busking.   I want to go daily but by friday or saturday I was exhausted an also had a bunch of home work to do and so stayed home, sunday seemed unlikely to...

So, there's gratitude, aka count your blessings.  Trouble with that is it reminds me of what I can still lose and spikes my anxiety. But I try.  I remember how much warmer it is here. Then worry I won't get back next winter. That I will be stuck homeless in saskatchewan, a thing I certainly don't know how to do. Honestly, it's not the dying of cold, it's the weeks leading up to dying, the weeks of hunger and fear and helplessness, of watching my pets and plants go first.  So yeah, counting my blessings isn't working. Forget about the future.  Yeah, don't plan for it, don't worry about it, just slide on down to whatever happens. Trust in something that gives a damn about you.  Oh, yeah, that would be the something that let me have cancer "for some noble future purpose."  Or is it the force that has set my Life game mode to extra hard with a dose of internet connection problems?  Or is it the one that never answers any of my prayers?  Trust it?...

I'm so negative now, I cringe at myself. I can't seem to head it off when it starts.  I can't seem to stay on something cheerful.  I know why, I'm depressed and anxious.  I'm hungry and cold.  I need friends.  I need human networking.  I need income, work, resources.  And I'm not getting them.  Which has me so stressed I can't get out of negativity. Which makes me unpleasant and ensures I don't make any connections.  Which keeps me anxious and depressed. Which keeps me negative. Which ensures I can't make connections. So I'm still hungry and cold and terrified of the last week of the month and of losing everything and being even colder and hungrier. I don't know how to deal with it.  I'm getting stuck in the sense of hopeless doom.  I'm running out of energy due to poor nutrition. I'm doing my best to forage.  I'm trying hard to think of reasons to be grateful.  But then everything thing I give gratitude for is a thing I c...

i can't stand not bitching about it.  People here are so miserable! Ok, we had dan's sign on the bus.  The contracting company saw it. Used it to call and complain about the bus being parked where they like to park. I had trash but couldn't throw it out because the car wrap business locks the bin. So I put it on top of the bin. Those fucks walked across the street and put it under a truck rather than put it in the bin on which it sat!  Like extra level petty.  People here just seem so selfish and pissed off about anything and ready to take action about it.  Over everything. Except, they do nothing. Because it's got to be the most unliveable city I've ever seen.  nanaimo sucks so hard. I fear the whole island might be shitty.  Would I do better in the big city?  I mean, they've got transit, you know?  You can navigate vancouver without driving. But damn, these people live in canada's paradise and they're fucking devils. Yuck. ac

oIt's a funny place to find oneself.  Halfway between gratitude and existential anxiety with a dose of moral outrage.   So let me break it down backwards. The outrage is about how my country is failing it's people in their times of need. Ordinary people being let to fall into the streets. If you survive a life threatening ilness with disability, expect to be unable to afford housing on what is available to the public disabled.  I guess the privileged folks all have these fancy insurance packages that pay out a handsome tithe montly to let them live like humans.  How else could this stand? The anxiety.  Well the bus had a few mechanical scares.  We've been visited a few times by officious persons.  One pair of ladies came on as street outreach and for the cost of two cheap school lunches were able to draw way too much information out of me.  I'm kicking myself for it.  Now it's possible they'll get back to me in January with usefulness, a...

       We got kicked out of the parking lot at the social center.  The officer told us we'd had complaints.  We can't idle there and we can't stay overnight.  It's so frustrating.  I feel ever more paranoid and hated by the day.  I feel dehumanized.  I feel hunted.  I hunch over in tension and fear and it's giving me back aches and stomach trouble and poor sleep. The constant high speed traffic on every single street of this insane city doesn't help. Now I"m running out of fuel and money and it's only a third of the way through the month. Dan hasn't had any more interest in his ads.  He's out of funds too, I think.  He did fuel up today but I suspect he's got not much left.  I don't know his details and it's not my business but  I do know he took out a credit card with way more credit than he can afford and it's going to come back and screw him further.  Money mismanagement is honestly the reason we're homel...

 What does holding space mean?  It means giving someone the respectful permission to feel uncomfortable feelings.  Being willing to feel awkward, even sad, so someone else feels heard, felt, cared about. This is incredibly rare, I believe.  I think about all the miserable conversations I've had and how they all fall back on the other person's inability to do this.  Because no part of my life is not touched by some form of sorrow, honestly, it isn't possible to get through a conversation about myself that doesn't get stuck in the weeds.  Or maybe they're doing it by their questions?  Honestly I still don't get how it goes there every damn time. Well it seems it does.  Somehow we're talking about me and what I should be doing. In some context.  I know I don't ask for advice.  I often assert as much to the person asking them to stop doing it. They often refuse to stop. It gets to where I feel on the defensive and delivering way more self in...