The People Under the Ladder

What the fuck is wrong with these people?

They're just loud and boisterous. It's had to depend on them to shut the fuck up after Ten at night. That is the funny thing about being here. These fucking space invaders have to make noise in the hallway . And some one keeps slamming their door. I mean, with a reverberating boom! Makes the walls shake. In all honesty it's not every night, but when it happens I wonder what is up with these people.

That's right, I'm beginning to call them 'these people' now. I've been thrown free of them. They are a new breed of people on the social ladder. Higher than a shelt, but more like a Skek. SROian? 'Singles'...hmmm. Singles. Let me think about it. But these motherfuckers are a trip. I remember growing up with them all of my life. I was a projects kid. I grew up in the projects of Brooklyn, and the people here remind me of that same mentality. Although the building and the surroundings are far better than the projects.

Why am I bitching. Here I am sitting around my room, gaining weight and popping pills. I have to go out and get my LUVOX today. I should be in the pharmacy. Let's see how these morons do. God, they are the most stupid bunch....you see. I'm venting again. No need for that. I'm becoming a bitter, mean shut in. What's up with that.

I'm sitting in my room, burning another day down. I should be out doing something, but this is indicative of my life now. I'm no longer on the streets, and all that time that I used to use up in the sheer act of survival, walking from here to there for clothes and food is pointless now. Clothes, food and bathroom are all within a short walk. No wonder I'm gaining weight. Well...

I don't feel that all this is permanent. I really don't. I can't unwind here, I can't relax. I can't let down my guard because I know how fast your ass can end up on the street. It's easy to end up sleeping on street corners, in parks, in front of office buildings and on subways. What the fuck? And many of you out there are very certain that it will never happen to you. But the truth is, if you lose your job can you afford to be without that income for six months? Three months? A month? If you live in a home, how long can you go without paying your mortgage before the banks start screaming foreclosure?

If you're a woman, you'll never end up on the street unless you're crazy. Now I'm not saying anything about Electra, but for the majority of the people out there that are women, they're crazy, or barely holding onto sanity. Women don't end up in the street. Men...family...neighbors come to their rescue. The more attractive, the faster the aid. I know a lot of women...I do. A lot of women who have lost their homes, and wonderful men from all corners of the Earth are quick to open their homes to them to couch surf.

"Oh I've couch surfed for a few years." They'll tell you. Yeah, a man don't mind coming home to find a woman asleep on his couch. But take me for instance. When I had an apartment and a job, I let my brother stay for a year, or until he got on his feet. Over a year later, this guy is still couch surfing and don't know how to leave. That's the deal with men and couch surfing. Another man is glad that you are not staying over. They are quick to see you leave. It's a man thing. When you're young, when you're a kid, it's cool, it's fun. But the older you get, the less novel it is.

If you 're a man, you're going to end up in the street...no two ways about it boys and girls, and you'll wear the myriad labels of lazy, drunk, worthless...the entire gamut of the lexicon. Be prepared. I am. I'm in this little room preparing. I'm working on my novels, on the grant proposals, on getting writing gigs.....

Uggh, writing gig. Talk about writing gig. I've run out of things to report on for the online magazine that I work for. I've really run out of ideas. Kaput. I want to ask them for assignments, but I fear that they'll cost money. That will not be good, because...well I'm not a rich man to go running around to expensive lounges, clubs and restaurants for an online magazine that doesn't reimburse you for the money that you spend. That won't work well for me.

I'm not knocking my magazine, I'm just saying that went you are unem- ployed, you have to watch what you spend your money on. A bum has to be frugal at best.

Well, I stand and stare at the wall outside my window. I wonder what life is like beyond it.

Hobobob