Day 1 of 7 the homeless experience
I woke up reluctantly at 8 and staggered into a shower. I wiped sleep out of my eyes. The realization that this will be my last shower in a week washes over my mind. My backpack was laden down with books 7 for 7 days. I had to remove Omnivores Dilemma and the Baglavad Gita…was taking up too much space. I have a ream of paper, toothbrush, and 1 sweater. I revved the engine on my vespa its loud and choppy as it spurts to life. It took me 3 hellacious hours to drive it to Amityville Long Island. The ride was an adrenaline dump as cars whizzed passed me at dizzying speeds. I felt so vulnerable and anxious. When I finally made it to my destination a chinese guy hailed me into his chop shop. I do believe he’s going to vanquish my vespa when I relinquish it to him..for spare parts. He handed me 950 bucks as I sign the title over. It was the only vehicle I ever owed. I wasnt nostalgic “im good at goodbye” I tried to sleep on the train to Penn Station but to no avail. Im trying this thing called the sleep diet were I nap 30 min every 4 hours. That way at night being homeless wont be so bad I can wander around. Im also fasting for the 7 days so when I passed a McDonalds in Penn Station my stomach yearned for a McDouble. I got water and fresh squeezed carrot juice of no means size. I sat on the floor outside Jamba Juice and drew this lady’s dog while listening to the autobiography of Gandhi. She gave me 50 bucks and a hug. I was startled by her buoyant spirit. I wandered towards union sq, I tried napping again on a park bench but there were these rambunctious transients across from me that kept me awake. Tonights gonna suck. I pulled out Hamilton and read a chapter under the shade of a sycamore tree. Im actually not sure what kind of tree it was. My friend Vess came by and we talked briefly about all things good and wholesome. After union sq I went to Starbucks to charge my dead phone. I thought about my brother and how I visited him in prison two days prior I asked him what he missed most after being locked up for 5 years. His eyes were warm and thoughtful. A melancholy smile crept across his face. “the simple things..like walking down the street.” I tried to grasp it while i walked down 14th street. I felt a surge of emotions bubbling up, my eyes welled up I wasn’t sure if it was from sadness or happiness. I tried to discern which it was. I love putting nice little labels on things. Sabina called me from Prague when I was at Starbucks I couldn’t really follow the conversation well my stomach was shouting obscenities at me and the earl grey wasn’t satiating. I walked to 42nd street I was alone, hungry, and empty. The skyscrapers loomed over me in a imposing manner like bouncers at and exclusive night club. the darkness shrouded me from the street lights. I wanna sleep so I head to the AMC I bought tickets from a scalper. Who does that at the movies? I picked the most boring movie on purpose, Chef it was like the Indian version of the Jon Favreau movie of the same title. I sorta sleep but thoughts are brimming with situational fodder. Movie theaters are great for a nap i kicked off my shoes and really passed out. Had to leave at 2 tho. wandered around times sq. A surreal place at night. When you have no place to go time doesn’t mean as much and urgency is absent. I’ll sleep again on the A train to Far Rockaway thats a long one.