Dark Thoughts About Continuing

Time.

How important is that? Very. I realize it with the job farm. They want you busy doing something for thirty five hours a week. In the old days they called it 'Churning Air'. They just want you doing something and off the streets. Like I was on the streets. Even when I was homeless I wasn't on the streets. I was working hard in the library with my brother.

Hmmmm, what's going to happen with that? My brother will be working hard on the SHOUT OUT, what will I be working on? Learning how to open and close windows in Windows? Sitting around watching videos on how to hold a job and what to do on a job. I was doing this shit in '06 and I walked out on it and back out onto the street. Then it was easy because I was living in The Hotel, there was no fall involved.

Now, I have a lot to lose, especially my damn ink-jet printer! Or the few clothes that I have. A roof over my head, a bed and my medicine. OH SHIT! My medicines and therapy!! Trade all this in for what? Air and freedom. I'll lose all of my material l possessions just like I had done in '06, leaving with just the clothes on my back. Back out onto the street. But am I biting the hand of the aid that the City is extending out to help the homeless off the streets? What I don't like about this the most is that you don't have a choice in the matter. You HAVE to take their vocational training, whether you like it or not.

I mean, I realize that there are those in society that need time manage- ment, but I'm not one of them. If their job at the Vocational Program had real shit to do, I wouldn't mind, and there would be no jumpers, but I'm heading for a waste of time, I see it now. On Wednesday they'll work on my schedule to make certain that I am covered for every hour of the day. What I did with the Men's Shelter, with the Box, I told them that my sessions with my doctors took all day. They assumed that actually and that was great because they left me the fuck alone. I don't think I'll get that lucky here.

So, here goes my career as a beat poet. I know that this will end badly. I have a sixth sense about this. It's a scary thing, but I don't want to think about it. I meet up with one of my best friends on Saturday, Bryan and he takes me out to brunch where we catch up on things and we break at three so that I can shoot to the SHOUT OUT!

Everything goes smoothly and our feature knocks the house down and a nice sized audience it was. After the SHOUT OUT my brother and I buy some portables, chicken and coffee at Starbucks. At 11:00 we head out and go our separate ways. I make it to the crib and I wonder about the coming few days. I have three relative days of freedom, four counting Sunday.

The question is am I ready for this?

Hobobob