The Having of the Have Nots

Shit, what can I say?

I am back again and will be back from now on. Or so I believe. A very beautiful woman has encouraged me to begin writing again and blogging again now that I have switched to fully survival mode. I think I'm in love with this woman, I don't know, I'm a silly boy and my feelings run riot. But she is a great influence in my life. She has red hair. That means a lot. She is completely different in my life. Let me tell you a story before I tell you what's going on.

Shit, I was a kid in high school at the time. I hated showers after gym because I was a fat kid and I didn't want to be naked with my gym mates. I didn't want them laughing at my body. I was just that self conscious. Still, I had it to do. So one day, after the showers, walking around like there was a sniper in the gym locker room, I chanced upon a clique of guys, gathered around a magazine. For some reason I was drawn to them and slowly I approached. They were enthralled with a magazine featuring a RED headed woman having sex.

Wow. I looked at it. She wasn't one of those bright red headed dyed women, but a natural red head, dark, sultry, and covered with cum. She had cum everywhere, and for some reason, her white, white skin, red red hair, and white white cum sickened me. I got ill. Maybe it was the environment, maybe it was the leer of the guys around the magazine, whatever it was, it made me so ill I ran to the bathroom. I was certain that I would retch, but I didn't, I went back to my locker and never voiced it again.

Like I told my brunette wife, I was never so upset in my life, over ANYTHING. This moved me, shook me, upset me. I could never look at another red headed woman again. Well, life has a way of fucking with you, and one of my best friends is a red headed woman. She encouraged me to blog again after for some reason, I stopped. I slowed, and now, I don't know. I don't know who or if anyone cares. I did it before to cry out, now I don't know. I don't want to cry, I want to deal. Just work with my problems and not make commentary out of it.

But the truth is that I have to speak out. I have to talk about survival on the outside of society. Maybe that's it. I don't fucking know. I'm just a clown in a clown show. Forgive me. Still, Well what can I tell you. I ran out of food, money, everything in two days. I was broke and the Internet died. I was alone and waiting to be kicked out of the SRO. I waited for the other shoe to drop like a man on death row. Fuck it then. I'll deal with everything as it comes.

There was a knock on my door. It was Igor. The Internet was down. What the fuck was going on? Well dude, I don't have the money to keep it up. What? He asked me if he could pay for it. He has a pre-occupation to have everything changed to his name, to his room. No, not until I'm gone I tell him. Well, let me find out what is going on and I'll pay for it again, he tells me. We go downstairs and on the way to the office he gets into a long conversation with the super of the building. I take a seat and nearly go to sleep waiting for them to finish until I jump up and tell him to meet me at my apartment. Oh no, he tells me, lets take care of this. We go into one of the offices of the management and he calls. He finds out that it's not about the money, but instead something is wrong with my modem. Reboot it and I'll be back on the Internet. We do, and it works. Shit, that is my most favorite things about computers. They are indiscriminate. I'm back online.

There was knock on my door. I opened it to find Slick-O standing there, with one of the main- tenance men standing there with a box filled with garbage bags. This is how it ends, huh? They crate your shit out in garbage bags. Slick-O says to me, "We want to do your clothing. All of your laundry." What? "We want to do all of your laundry. Bring it down tomorrow to the lobby and it will be handed off to a professional cleaner and taken care of." I looked at his ass in disbelief. What the fuck? They gave me garbage bags to put them in and left. That was it. The war was not on YET.

A day passed. There was no food. OBSIDIAN gave me a soup kitchen to go to in the evening, but I could not leave my room. I stayed in, staring at the walls, and skipped three meals that day. I fell asleep, looking at photographs of this red headed woman. I blacked out staring at her face, thinking about her. What can I say? I awoke the next day, NOT hungry, but I've fasted before. After the first day, hunger pangs go away. I was sick in the stomach though, going to the bathroom often with the runs. burning runs that hurt my ass like a gangbang.

I watched time pass, I watched myself ebb. I got up and began to clean my room, from top to bottom. I was not going to perish here in a filthy apartment. It was going to be clean...and then I stopped. I was NOT going to perish. I was going to survive. I was NOT going to give up. Life goes on. We FIGHT to survive, don't we, and I wanted to live, because of this red headed woman. I wanted to live on, to do something, to make something of myself, and frankly, to have this red headed woman. I was NOT going to give up that easily.

I went downstairs, this was going onto two days without eating. I was not hungry, but I was growing weak. I lost the will for hunger long ago when I used to fast with my ex-girlfriend of five years. We used to fast all the time. It was our way of saying that we loved each other. She was a staunch vegetarian and I was a staunch leaner. I went a week without eating and almost passed out in a subway train. I staggered off onto the train platform and miracously had an apple in my bag and it kept me from fainting. Well, that's another story.

I went down to the office to ask them if they could help me find a soup kitchen since I had no more benefits. I needed food. I needed to eat. I was quickly growing weaker. Snow White was there, and she told me to call for my Medicare immediately, she would look up soup kitchens. I did, staying on hold for a long time. Sugar Plum came in, and they began to give me advice. I listened, while on hold.

Then the phone answered with someone from Medicare. They told me that I still had coverage. Shit, how great was that? Now I can go get my head and heart medicines. That was the first on my list. Then, I thought about it. How about food stamps and money? Did I still have those? I dialed and listened to the machine read off to me that I did. I almost cried. Shit, I will live another day. I got up and ran to the grocery store and did some light shopping, getting food and what I now value the most....toilet paper.

I thanked the girls in the office and ate a meal for a change. Two days almost without something to eat will almost....almost change you. People don't think that individuals do not go hungry in this country, but they do. They really do. It's easy when you don't have a job. Now it's time for me to find one. Believe me or not, maybe I will find one in what I want to do, maybe I won't. But my Fair Hearing will dictate a lot of things. It will make things right or wrong. I can't wait for that. Still, I contacted my friend at NBC today.

I'm shooting forward with my plan. I want to see if I can make my pitch.

This is the end run gang.

Hobobob