The view from the Tenderloin
The View from the Tenderloin:
One of my neighborhood parks, (I have a foto, can't figure out how to add it) looking rather forlorn and empty. It was cold, breezy, and rainy this morning as I took my walk. The homeless, as it was still early, were still huddled in their tents, the lucky ones, others were under dirty blankets and sleeping bags. The oblivion of sleep, and dreams, preferable to the harsh reality of life on the streets. Grey and empty, a sad parady of the city I once knew.
This is the last Sunday in the Hyde street apartment I've occupied for the last two years and three months. The memories that are lasered into my mind are astonishing. I've known joy, love, hate, terror and wonder. I've dealt with heroes and villians, lovers and Demons. I've had epic battles with management over trying to shelter my homeless friend, that well has definately been poisoned. It's why I'm moving. I haven't seen my little buddy for ten days or so, and I try not to think about him too much. When I'm feeling rational and thinking clearly, it doesn't bother me too badly, but when that situation catches me off guard it's like being hit by a sledge hammer, the tears flow and I gasp for breath. I will see him again, I just don't know when. The demons in his head are well known to me, and I to them. When I get on them too hard, for too long, they drive him away. They can't keep him away though, I'm all he has in this cold world.
Hold those dear to you close.
God save the Republic.
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