I Am Not The One

I smell like COL-
CHICINE.

It's every- where, and I mean every- where. No matter how much I shower it comes out of my pores in my sweat and I must be going through male menopause or it's my meds, but I sweat when I sleep. Maybe it's the COLCHICINE trying to get out. The smell is in my clothes, my shit, my piss, my farts, my hair. It's in my sheets and covers, in my jackets, in the change in my pockets. It's in the air in my room, I smell it in my garbage.

Maybe the smell is in my sinuses.

Yeah. Well, Hobobob, what the fuck does it smell like? Shit? You might say. No, on the contrary, it smells pretty good. It smells like a big, yellow flower, that has died. Fuck smelling good, the shit is cloying, stifling, suffocating. Maybe I told you about this before, but it's annoying. I may gripe about it many times more. It comes from a flower, so that's what you get when you make medicines from flora and fauna.

Oh well, today I'm heading down to Social Services, but I'm going in the mid afternoon. Hopefully all of the early birds will be processed already and the lines will be manageable. Hey, this is the life I crawled up into. If I don't like it, I can always return to the streets. I understand that. (You no doubt thought I was going to say: 'Get a Job'. Hah! You just don't know how impossible such a task is once you're homeless) But going downwards is not my way. I don't much like it. But if I have to return to the streets, what the fuck. The winter is practically past so the weather will be nice. Shit, maybe I'll be able to return to the shelter system. Well, who knows, The Box might not want me back. They learned that I was blogging about them and didn't like it.

Yeah, they didn't like it. So, the safest thing for them is to not let me back in. Hell, I'll see if I can get back into this SRO. See what that's like. How hard will that be? AWWWW what the fuck am I catastrophizing for? Who's to say that I'm about to lose anything! Like I said, I'll lead you around on this blog if you let me. I fret. I go 'round and 'round in circles chasing my own anus trying to work out different solutions to my dilemmas. Dilemmas that haven't even raised their heads yet.

I was told that that was the realm of genius, being able to break problems up into possible outcomes and then solving all of them. I personally find it annoying and seek drugs to quell them. A vivid imagination, especially when it kicks into gear when negative things are afoot, is more of a disaster than the dilemma. It'll age me, I just know it. I was told that Martin Luther King said:

"Poets have the hardest time keeping it together."

Is that shit true??? Do my fellow poets have a difficult time 'keeping it together?' Why is everything so difficult for me? Does this explain it? Am I in the same boat as many others? It's somewhat comforting if I am. Although my keeping it together is more severe than most. My keeping it together is to stay one step above homelessness, from sleeping on the streets, from being knocked back down to where I no doubt belong, huh? Well fuck that. I'll just fight my way up the ladder again. Like I said, I'm not going to jump in front of a speeding train for nobody or for any situation in the book. I'm too much of a coward to meet my maker.

Sheeeit, what would I say to him: "Jeezus, lord. I was given a bum rap. I was dealt a shitty hand in life. One mistake and I was punished severely. Have mercy on me, lord." Ha, I was told that suicides don't get to go to Heaven. Ain't that some shit? That option is a shitty hand too. Well, then there's returning to my parents. My father will love the shit out of that. I know exactly what he'd say: "Goddamnit, you're a grown man and you can't stand on your own??!! Fuck no, you're not coming back here!" Yeah, I love you too, old man.

Well, here are my options, and this is catastro- phizing. Whose to say that this is the direction that my life will come to in the first place. I could just be fretting over nothing. This might be settled with a whisk of a pen, or the press of a button. But I've been through the worst case scenario before. I've done all this before because WECare went punitive on me. Because I missed ONE meeting with them my case was 'sent back to HRA', and I had to go through all this shit just to get it restarted again. Punitive. It's engineered to be this way. It's full of shit. Because it's punitive like this it has an overabundance of people at their so called centers. You have the new people and the people that they are punishing crawling all over each other like fucking crabs in a bucket.

Punitive. Fuck 'em.

LIARS, CHEATS & FUCKERS

Rising from the shithole
this dragon breaks
like a cresting wave
it towers over you

And there you stand
before this colossus
with no weapon in hand
you'll have to fight today anyway

And as you struggle to gather
natural defenses
there are a million others with you
swimming in a burning sea

tortured souls in Hades

Praised for its caring, this Dragon is lauded
watching over the minions like a duck it's ducklings
But beware the screen of the lie
For WECare does not care

And for all you are worth,
do not build up any self-esteem
because you will be set outside in the streets
like garbage in the morning.

It just came right out. My focus is clear this morning. I feel strongly about what's before me, and out these things pop. I don't much care to change it. Not at all, because it's what I'm feeling in a nutshell. That's the brain expressing itself about its predicament.

Well, that's not true. It's expressing itself about what I'm dealing with. I'm trying to help you to understand the blind, bull-like stupidity of The System. It dosen't use it's mind, it's compassion, it's empathy, no, it uses computers, cold and calculating, lifeless, heartless. Don't sit around thinking that people caught in The System have it easy. No, not at all. We have pauses from the raging storms, we have breaks from the beatings. It's dumb to envy us. It's stupid to complain. Hey, life was not always like this for me. I was where you are, comfortable in my own home, car parked out front, respectability, self-respect. Yeah, I had all that. And now look at me, a crab in a barrel, and there are those saying that I got it easy.

The drivel of the ignorant. Don't begrudge me, you don't want to be where I am.

HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am-not-one.html
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