Feb 29 2008

More of the same


I see I almost let February get by without posting.

It’s been pretty much the same old grind; sleeping on the concrete.

Heather had me over to clean up and gave me a blanket. The blanket was stolen about a week later, while I was sleeping. I went to sleep with it spread over the sleeping bag. When I woke up it was gone.

Putting a blanket, even a thin one, over the sleeping bag makes a big difference in the warmth.

I’ve called the Palomar 4 times now about the application I submitted, the last this afternoon. This time they told me they couldn’t check my credit because I didn’t give them my first name, just an initial.

Well, they asked for a statement of my disability benefit from Social Security, and they asked for my driver’s license. My driver’s license says J. Craig Canada, as does my Social Security disability decision. My credit card says J C Canada.

After I managed to complete the call and tell them my first name without blowing up, I checked my email and found one from Manthri from two days ago telling me the ‘problem’ with the initials.

But the fact is I’ve spent the past week thinking about what I can do to prepare, and how I can survive there. And the fact I can’t. After I pay the rent, my phone bill, and the credit card I won’t have enough left to buy food for more than a week. And then there’s clothes, toiletries, laundry, entertainment, medicine, cigarettes…

If I earn enough to supply myself with those things I will lose the disability ‘benefit’.

I used the idea I would be indoors before long to keep myself going. But it isn’t going to happen. By the time they get around to me my credit will be exhausted, and so will I.

If only I could think of somewhere else to go, something else to do, and had some way to get there.

It seems my whole life I have been run out. First out of Alabama because I was gay. Now because I am a medical marijuana patient. The other morning a policeman woke me up. During the ‘conversation’ he stated that I was the one that was ‘illegal’.

Well, if I am it’s a crime and those that made me illegal, and have destroyed me and my life, are crimninals of the worst, most despicable, kind.

Not that they care.

I spend a lot of time in the past, in Alabama, when I had a home and a family. I long to go back there. Certainly, Santa Cruz has convinced me I never should have left. It was a waste of time and effort to come here, thinking I would find freedom and a career. California is no better. And in a lot of ways it is much, much worse.

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