On Chrismas Eve, while enjoying the holiday with my family in San Francisco, I received word from my friend in Portland that I would not have a home to return to. Okay.
He and I were without a steady place from mid-September to mid-October (during our trip cross country) so it wasn't like this was an extraordinary occurance for us. My friend proceeded to methodically pack all of our belongings into his '95 Ford Taurus and found a quiet neighborhood to park the car at night.
I returned to Portland late Thursday night, December 27th, 2007. We looked at each other and laughed. There was nothing more to do. We bought malt liquor at a convenience store, huddled in sleeping bags and went to sleep. This was the routine for the next few days. Some mornings we were awoken by joggers, children and more brutishly - a garbage truck.
It was decided that while one person sleeping in the car was bad enough - two was simply too much to handle. I called the only person I knew in the city and light-heartedly explained our plight. Appalled that we had been seeking refuge in Motel Ford, she insisted we stay at her place.
It was awkward. The whole time. My buddy insisted he continue staying in the car because of the strange tension in the house. The other housemates feigned courtesy but it was quite clear through their passive agressive behavior and my failed attempts to exchange pleasantries that I was unwanted. A blight on their otherwise happy home. Okay.
I took off at night. I would walk into whatever dive bar seemed comfortable - eventually settling on a place called The Crowbar. I strolled the ghetto of North Portland alone on many cold nights with my I-Pod and a strong whiskey slant to my perspective. Street urchins periodically attempted to sell me drugs - one man insisted I needed his "kryptonite". I politely declined and wished him a Happy New Year.
Being alone forces a level of contemplation and self-realization that I had not been afforded in the past. I don't believe I am enlightened, I didn't find God, nor do I feel the need to climb a soapbox any time soon. Nevertheless it has put the wants, needs, and desires of society and community into great perspective.
Yes, I have a newfound understanding for vagrants, impoverished people and those poor souls who have been crushed by any number of wrongly dealt hands. Am I joining a charity any time soon or volunteering? No. Which is sad to realize.
I do not feel I was ever in harm's way during this time nor did I need to stagnate myself by thereby giving up on what it is that I need to do with my life. Whatever that is. I stuck it out and things are cool.
Today I had internet installed in my new apartment. I will return to writing for juliusbloop.com, posting on this message board, and writing music.
Thanks to everyone for lending their support and just...being out there. We all need each other - as sappy as that sounds. It's true.
He and I were without a steady place from mid-September to mid-October (during our trip cross country) so it wasn't like this was an extraordinary occurance for us. My friend proceeded to methodically pack all of our belongings into his '95 Ford Taurus and found a quiet neighborhood to park the car at night.
I returned to Portland late Thursday night, December 27th, 2007. We looked at each other and laughed. There was nothing more to do. We bought malt liquor at a convenience store, huddled in sleeping bags and went to sleep. This was the routine for the next few days. Some mornings we were awoken by joggers, children and more brutishly - a garbage truck.
It was decided that while one person sleeping in the car was bad enough - two was simply too much to handle. I called the only person I knew in the city and light-heartedly explained our plight. Appalled that we had been seeking refuge in Motel Ford, she insisted we stay at her place.
It was awkward. The whole time. My buddy insisted he continue staying in the car because of the strange tension in the house. The other housemates feigned courtesy but it was quite clear through their passive agressive behavior and my failed attempts to exchange pleasantries that I was unwanted. A blight on their otherwise happy home. Okay.
I took off at night. I would walk into whatever dive bar seemed comfortable - eventually settling on a place called The Crowbar. I strolled the ghetto of North Portland alone on many cold nights with my I-Pod and a strong whiskey slant to my perspective. Street urchins periodically attempted to sell me drugs - one man insisted I needed his "kryptonite". I politely declined and wished him a Happy New Year.
Being alone forces a level of contemplation and self-realization that I had not been afforded in the past. I don't believe I am enlightened, I didn't find God, nor do I feel the need to climb a soapbox any time soon. Nevertheless it has put the wants, needs, and desires of society and community into great perspective.
Yes, I have a newfound understanding for vagrants, impoverished people and those poor souls who have been crushed by any number of wrongly dealt hands. Am I joining a charity any time soon or volunteering? No. Which is sad to realize.
I do not feel I was ever in harm's way during this time nor did I need to stagnate myself by thereby giving up on what it is that I need to do with my life. Whatever that is. I stuck it out and things are cool.
Today I had internet installed in my new apartment. I will return to writing for juliusbloop.com, posting on this message board, and writing music.
Thanks to everyone for lending their support and just...being out there. We all need each other - as sappy as that sounds. It's true.
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