Destitute World

Apologies readers for disappearing, my phone was lost after an official placed their hand in my rucksack. I’ve been punished enough already for suggesting that this constitutes theft. Yes the rules of the destitute world of homelessness are very different from the world, I hope you inhabit, my good readers.

My second apology is to the baristas at GoDogGoCafe for being a day late with my Tuesday Writing Prompt submission. I can tell by the way they are looking at the clock and hovering around my virtual table they want to slink off to wherever online Baristas go after hours. Baristas understand the rules of the destitute world.

Destitute World

Chemical Friday
Chaos of giro pay
Injection of money for dealers
Standard behaviour
Post transaction
In my destitute home

The markets of hate
Give discounted rates
For despair, disrepair and abuse
Dignity humanity the bargain price
For a holiday in destitute hell

Amidst the Giro ritual
Of chaos habitual
Our Cardboard plastic home
A selfless action shown out
Like sunshine at night
For sure I was proud of that girl

Yes it was chemical Friday
A real sky high day
When words straight from my soul
Spoke my pride from deep inside
Witness to action so pure

The gentle breeze of praise
Struck through the whirlwind’s haze
And reached the small girl within
Friendship planted
It’s pure fruit advances
The girl now grown to woman

The tale I must tell
From the depths of Cardboard hell
Puts the stories of old to shame
Of a whirlwind now calmed
And a girl, who
Never had a chance

She shared a snippet of her history
Which to you will stay a mystery
By nine all chances removed
Begging pitch glory
Now part of her story
Like the tears of pride in my eyes

Pride for my friend with
Remembered disclosure
Of intoxication offered
The joy in her eyes
Her voice firm with pride
“I said no”!!!
How blessed am I to have such a friend

My destitute world
Upside down home
Where I’ve always been a slave
Our rules are different from yours
It’s not about race
Or keeping pace
Survival is all we know

Last time I saw
My friend for ever more
A smile stretched beyond her ears
Now calm chemical whirlwind
Of class A B & C shame.
With truthful pride
Stated length of time
Since her final chemical Friday

She never had a chance
Spent decades in hell
Till her soul shone through
Giving a future bright and clean
Only slaves know how hard
Escape from master’s grasp
Her Masters, the worst drugs and homelessness
She’s now free.

Reality Check

The reason I decided on my late submission to the GoDogGoCafe, s due to this weeks prompt. Do these writers on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean know my friend’s massive achievement of breaking clean from the slavery of intoxicating addictions? Have they to passed through destitute cardboard hell? Perhaps they met a nine year old in an adult body who never had a chance? My friend, readers you have no idea how proud I am to call her a friend, is no longer trapped by addiction, as child in a adult body, she has broken free and is now a woman.

Guards in Addiction Prison

Problem is the well meaning intentions of good honest people can make impersonal guards for the Slave Master Mr. Drug Addiction. The picture above is of a sharps box in a public toilet meant for disabled people. Every injecting drug addict in the UK can get as many clean needles, for free, as they need. Each free pack of needles for injecting drugs comes with a “cin bin” or sharps box where the used dirty needles should be placed. Addicts should be encouraged to return the full sharps box when they collect their next batch of needles, spoons and alcohol wipes.

I’ve worked in needle exchanges and know that not ever addict returns the dirty needles when they collect clean needles. Boxes in toilet blocks are not required if the needle exchange system works properly. Older, long term injecting drug users can get very angry at people who leave needles lying around. It’s not necessary it’s pure laziness and disrespect. It’s also incredibly dangerous.

The other problem with sharps boxes on public display is the potential psychological trigger to addicts who are in the process of escaping the slavery of addiction. Mr Addiction is an evil, slippery slave master. He loans slaves to Master Homelessness at times but always retains the ownership rights for his enslaved humans.

Escaping Master Addictions ownership

In the destitute world of disadvantage and homelessness there is a well defined hierarchy. Addicts who dont deal and obtain money via begging are at the bottom. If they sleep outside every night they are deemed the lowest of the low. I choose to sleep outside due to the dealing and snobbery in the hostels. Readers, you’d be shocked and disgusted if you heard how some hostel dwellers think they have the right to speak to me, because I’ve slept outside for so long. Yet if you were to meet me in the street you would be unlikely to even recognise me as homeless.

Small time dealers who also use and self important homeless folk who demand a hostel/B&B from the council because it is their God given right to be housed are the next rung up the hierarchy. This group of people have probably been homeless for many years. The homeless system is where they feel at home. Call it care in the community, call in an open prison in the middle of you town, these people are extremely institutionalised and are unlikely to of ever had a positive parental figure in their life. Foster care, institutional child care, or short prison sentences are likely to be amongst the traumas of their lives. They aren’t bad people they have never recieved the guidance and encouragement needed to emotionally mature.

The Respectable Slave Masters

The top group in the hierarchical structure in the destitute world of the underclass, is the dealer who doesn’t take drugs. Pure evil is the only way to describe this group. They know the damage they are causing, and don’t care. These dealers may be registered homeless or even respectable employment within the homeless system. Readers I know that you will be shocked and horrified to hear that their are people, in managerial positions, the homeless, dealing illicit drugs. They have the public face of concerned helper but in private ensure the slave system of homelessness and addiction advances unchecked.

Readers please if you can join me in praying, sending positive thoughts of healing change for these Slave Masters. I’m going to spare the risk of heart attacks amongst you, my good readers, and not provide an indication of the figures of profit in homeless sector.

Life and Times

I’m heading off now but I’ll end with some good news. I’ve been quietly and slowly working on a book about my descent and journey through homelessness. I may have found some people who want to assist me with this.

The other good news is I’ve found some affordable nice private lets, just got to convince the letting agencies to see past the stereotype. Plus the council may be considering if they can perhaps let me settle in affordable social housing. I reckon I’ve got more chance with the ‘no DSS’ landlords!