Eugene And Homelessness……

I haven’t gone to sleep tonight, so the maniac’s hours are off to a different start.  I am spending some much needed time thinking, and rearranging, b47f5b85bcc4badb4ac1845ce6d54bb8as well as making some intentional choices to do things differently.

I am nonetheless excited about the impending maniac’s hours.  So much so, I have begun to write, before my BLISSED OUT universe is set up.  I have been replaying a lot of things I did, and were said to me.  I needed to hear it.  I listened, took what I thought was appropriate and blocked the rest out.  No, it’s not turmoil or a bad exchange.  it was pretty benign without much thought.  It caused me a major ouch, surprisingly.  All is well, and Corey is back.  I ready myself to go out to the store to pick up my requisite coffee.  I wonder if Eugene, the homeless man I met last night will be back? I promised him my word that I would get him what he needed, as long as he didn’t call me a “faggot” again.  I have big faith Eugene will never call me a faggot again. I wonder although will he be there? Surely I will help this homeless man out.

A couple of my well-heeled friends laughed at what I did last night.  Bets were taken to see if Eugene would be there with his posse in tow.  Never mind I said, it makes no difference. If Eugene brings friends, well I have friends.  The laughter stopped immediately with my words.  I continued, “If Eugene has friends, you can all pony up and we can do right by a few folks.  Silence it was surely deafening, but I rounded the troops, and gave my pep talk. Finally, my friends reluctantly agreed to the deal.  As a friend I ask for very little, so when I speak my friends know I need them, I want them to help. Nobody I was talking to couldn’t easily afford to help some homeless people out.

I know it is nothing more than a band aid.  But when I see Eugene he is always bleeding.  I don’t have or are ashamed to say, I haven’t used my brain to consider the epidemic of homelessness. Perhaps someday, when I have finished school, and understand policy much better than I do, I will take a seat at the table, and roll up my sleeves and join the conversation.

Tonight is much more than the maniac’s hours.  I never went to bed and they are quickly appearing.  My body feels weird, but my mind will not settle it will not stop.  So I am going to gather my pug, my wallet and my keys and grab a jacket.  Butterflies about Eugene will my stomach as I get closer to leaving.  I will be back, it will be the maniac’s hour, and as we know I surrender to the shear bliss.

I am so bummed, with my coffee in hand, I went out to the store ledge where homeless people like to sit.  Not a soul was there, I was truly disappointed.  I went back into the store, and said, “Hey where is the people who sit on the ledge every night?”  “The cops just came and booted them off the property for trespassing.” “You got to be telling a really bad joke.  This isn’t fair, what exactly are they doing that’s wrong.” “It is called loitering and it is illegal in almost every place.”  “But, but I met this man last night, and helped him get stuff some food and drinks.” Sorry” said the clerk it is what it is.” I said, “Wait a minute, do you have a spare envelope I could use? The clerk handed me an empty envelope and I stuffed a twenty bill inside of it.  I sealed it tight, and wrote Eugene in block letters.  “Please I said, could you keep out for this old man, Eugene.  He was expecting me tonight and now he isn’t here, please try to get this directly to him.  I wrote on the envelope: To Eugene from Corey.  Sorry I missed you and I will be looking for you again tomorrow night.

Discouraged and a whole lot of bummed out I headed home.  I took off my jacket, put my keys on the shelf, unleashed the dog and entered the study.  So here I sit now just stewing away.  Where exactly are homeless people supposed to go?  I am thinking of Eugene; he would have back.   Does he see me a one-time nice white person, who has already forgotten about him?  I will have no way to know if he ever got the money, unless I meet up with him again.  The feeling is worse because I promised to be back. Now Eugene must think I am as bad as all the others.

I am at a funny time in my life.  Competing to give back butts heads with my school endeavors.  I have literally in my 20’s stepped over people lying passed out on the sidewalk.  With all I have been through in the last few weeks, I feel myself get softer in my world where both are so far apart.  I think out loud how could I have a mother, who never in a million years would give help to the poor. I take that back she does contribute to her church’s food pantry.  For all that she has and as little as she gives, it is embarrassing to me, her very first born.

I decided because I can’t think of very much else, to go the store this morning and see if they gave the money right to Eugene.  I will definitely go back tomorrow night, if I must I will make more than one trip.  By the way where is he tonight?  There’s frost on the cars and I needed my winter jacket.  Since I met him I can’t get him out of head.  The thought of his life leaves very upset.  I am floundering in the moment I want to help, but I believe my best care is giving directly to Eugene.



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