I'm here to get a few kind words, have a place to vent, and to transcribe my day-to-day struggle.
That's all I wanted out of you. An admission that you're back on your feet, and you're just here to talk about your day to day life. You lie again, I'll kick your teeth in. You have shelter, you have food, you have government checks. Try to climb your way up the ladder to a decent job so you can pull yourself out of a bad spot. Your endless "bad coincidences" are impossible. That's why I let this thread go on this long before I laid you out. A lot of these guys come from wealthy communities and never encountered beggars or con artists before, which is why this thread went on so long. As long as the community understands that you're just here to talk about your life and for the attention, and you're not here for "food money", it's OK.
I also have a unicorn that shits butterflies and rainbows. What admission? I'm not on my feet, I'm sleeping the back of a Durango, and as I said, there are NO work programs for single males in Colorado. In fact I think the only government checks are SSDI, SS survivors' benefits, TANF, and SSI. I don't get government checks, I get 175$ a month in food stamps, and without a kitchen it's very hard to make that last more than 2 weeks, those don't get refilled until the 5th of Feb either, so I've got a little bit until I get them again.
I do have some potential income in about a month. I'm working on a website for local businesses here in Aurora. Unfortunately, it's 3-4 weeks before my boss meets with his investors in LA, and until then there's simply no money. He was able to lend me a Gateway Solo 1450 laptop, so I can work wherever I'm at, but that's really the only thing I have going for me right now. If he can't get any investors on board, I'm back to square 0 again.
I'm glad you're here to protect the naive rich people, but I assure you, they're a hell of alot smarter than you give them credit for. Everyone has encountered a "beggar," and you really shouldn't act like you're the most intelligent person in the world. Superman for the "wealthy communities" as it were. Rich people are very good at protecting their money, that's why they're rich. You seem to think I'm making a shit ton of money here, and I'd like everyone who HASN'T given me money to clearly state it, so you can realize that only a very small amount of people from here have helped me with anything, I think a total of 4 over about a months time. I am VERY grateful for those who have, I was able to get a hotel for a night, which is really nice. Being able to shower, watch TV, and sleep in your own bed at least until morning is a luxury most take for granted. I actually really need deodorant come to think of it, next time I get some extra cash I'll grab some.
I'd honestly prefer if there was anyone around the Denver/Aurora area who could, instead of money, help me out with a few things: hygiene items, some clothes, a backpack, and a couple blankets. I suppose I could ask you guys to mail them to me, but I'd be afraid that Joe would poison me if I were to announce a friend's mailing address. I met with a man named Eric from this forum a few weeks back, and he bought me a 50$ gift cert. to McDonald's. That was amazingly kind. It's really draining to have to beg for food everytime you need to eat.
If you're making up fairy-tales for me, why couldn't you have done better than government checks? Why couldn't I be a MILLIONAIRE!
As I said, I DON'T CARE if you believe me or not. These "coincidences" as you call them are far too real for me to even make up. Why would I bother making up a shitload of bullshit facts? You can believe what you choose to believe, as I'm sure you will.
I'm here for as much help as anyone is willing to offer, hence "I have nowhere else to turn." And for the most part it's been advice and kind words. I've had alot of people offering to keep me in their prayers, and even though I'm not christian, it means alot to me. I'm glad there are caring considerate people out there. People who can see past their own existence and take some time out of their day to wish well for a stranger.
Yes, Joe, those pictures of my family are fake too! YOU GOT ME! Would you like some forged court documents too? Perhaps I should hack the Adam's county jail website and add a fake entry for my ex who got arrested for prostitution. Or why bother, truth is always stranger than fiction.
I have no problem with you calling me a liar, but next time, please have a shred of evidence. Hollow accusations and attempted martyrdom may seem like a valiant and sincere enough front, but we live in a scientific age, dependent upon proof and research, and you have not done yours.
I invented the internet, and I discovered gravity. Neil Armstrong actually yanked the microphone out of my hand, my speech was way better, but the space termites ate it.
Now, back to the journal idea... Here's what I have so far..
It's 4am, at least I think. I awake to the frozen breath of the night. I'm shaking, shivering. Can't stop shivering. I thought this blanket would be enough, I miscalculated. I contemplate where to find cardboard, but my teeth rattling stop my thoughts dead in their tracks. I'll just curl up, that'll work.
I think about my girls. My daughter, my wife. At least she's taken care of. I worry about Ali. She hurt me, but I love her too much. She's warm and safe in jail at least. I'm tired, but cold. I pray for the sun. I pray for warmth. I manage to fold the blanket a few times to put distance between me and the stone beneath me. This blanket reeks of piss. Cat piss. He warned me, but it's better than nothing at all. Each breath I take feels like ethanol in my lungs. That pungent spray that can only come from a testicle bearing feline. I pull my lighter from my pocket, and I thank the universe for combustion. If I keep it lit for a little while it'll warm me up. I always worry the synthetic fibers will smolder like burning plastic, a sort of home-made napalm clinging to everything it touches. I take deep breaths so slow the panting. I manage to stop my jaw from shaking. Deep breaths in a piss soaked blanket.
"I wanna be a fireman when I grow up!" Well, kid, chances are your dreams will fail you, and the reality that is life will destroy what you call hope. I call it wilfull deceit. "I wanna huff cat piss when I grow up!" How did I get here? It all seems like it happened so fast. I wish I had some elaborate sob story about how I had it all. Truth is, I never did. Just like the rest of this habitat, I was just balancing my debt right. My house of cards held long enough, but the biting winter winds blew it over, as my cards circled in a tornado's pattern. The only one left, the joker.
I awake to the sunlight reflecting off the blue industrial trash compactor. It's fenced off so I assumed it'd shelter me from the wind and prying eyes. I stuff the blanket under it, and my DVD's, I've scratched them enough already. I'll come back for them later. I make my way to the gas station, gotta try and find Mike. Wow, is that Lloyd? Hah! We were in jail together, he's fucking crazy, felony eluding. I guess his plan to brand himself crazy and unmedicated worked. I tell him about Ali, he asks if "I fucked it up again." Did I? Was this my fault? Probably. I borrow two bucks and head towards the bus stop, another day.
I wonder, how much of this could I have prevented? How many lives have I now destroyed? The naivity of youth fades quickly. Soon you realize how much you actually impact others. I hope Lily doesn't hate me. I'll bet she thinks I abandoned her. Maybe I did. Maybe I could have stopped this. I'll get you back Lily. I promise.
Ali's bail is 625$. Three charges, three counties. She'll be in there for a while. Two of them total 125$. Maybe I can post those two, and she can resolve the third.. She's a good girlfriend, while she's yours. Too bad it's like handling a fish. Lose your grip and she's gone, back into the merky water. You know not where she's headed. I know I love her, I've never been content with one woman. Always restless, needing more. All I want is more of her. She's dirty and grimey. She appears innocent, but she's anything but. Four foot eight, 115 pounds. Tiny little thing. I love having a tiny woman. My last girl was about 175. There's nothing like fucking a tiny little thing. Pounding her doggy-style, and with one well-executed maneuver, she's on her back. Throw her legs into the headboard and keep it going. Never losing penetration.
She's a sex goddess. Eager to try anything at any time, and that innocent smile when she's looks up while holding my cock. "Do you like that baby?" I love everything you do to me. The firsts she's given me would surpass this text in length. And I suppose that's love, how many firsts you're willing to give eachother: First kiss, first fuck, first child, first true love. I gotta get her out.
I make my way to Colfax and Mississipi. My hunger pains me. I eat when I can, or rather when panhandling doesn't make me sick to my stomach. Freddy's is open, I'll get someone to buy me a burger. Ketchup and Mayo, nothing better on well-prepared beef.
It may be a little graphic for some, but I like the bukowski style.