[This is a piece, of a book maybe? The ramblings have been floating around in my mind and needed to be dumped out (written) before I fahgettaboutit.*L*]
It blindsighted her. Being homeless. She was never homeless homeless. Just one with no home. Her own home, like countless others. She was never without shelter. She always had a roof over her head, she was never in the streets. If home is where your is; then she’s never been with out.
She was always well taken care of, with food on the table. So how dare she compare herself to the homeless homeless. She was just homeless.
She should of, could of, would of done a lot of things. Like she should of gotten a job but fear and apathy kept her home hidden in her own world. She should of gotten treatment but she said she didn’t have insurance because she didn’t have a job. She should of studied and made herself a better person. She could of gotten a job but she didn’t know where she would be living. She made excuses.
Homelessness gave her a lot to think about. Maybe that was her problem. She thought way too much and did way too little. Maybe if she did more she wouldn’t have time to dwell on things that did not need to dwelled on.
II.
How did she get here? How did she get from things to nothing and from health to needing treatment? She can’t complain. There really isn’t anything to complain about. True, she could bitch and moan. But would be the point. Just a waste of energy. Energy that could be best used for survival.
What if? She always has a list of “what ifs” floating thru her mind. “What ifs” that never happen. But if they did, if they do she would be the first to say “I knew it.” Maybe she did and maybe she didn’t. Crap happens.
–30–
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