On homelessness and striving to be greater

Living from night to night,  not sure what tomorrow will hold,  and if I’ll wake up surrounded by my belongings when that time comes.  I feel like I’m sinking on a ship mutiny.  I have no prospects on places to stay and my support team have no answers as to how I’m supposed to find a solution to the crippling reality that nobody wants to take me at my worst,  even if it rarely shows up anymore and my times at my best are some of the best this reality has to offer.  I’ve been without a place to call home for far too long,  and been out of the workforce even longer than that.  I really hope things can improve,   I know they used to be better.  I know the potential I have to get things like a band and a home and a place to showcase my talents where its valued and maybe even looked highly upon.  If it means waiting till i can afford to own my own theatre,  then thats how long it’ll take,  but I’m not sure i can last that long.  With this month-to-month cycle of having and giving I can hardly dream of a time when these goals can be attainable and sustainable.  I really wish i could be more for the people who i love,  but my paralysis is heavy and strong.  Like a heavy weight on my chest keeping me in bed past my alarm and keeping me from running when disaster encroaches around me.  I’m scared of every creak of a chair and every movement i see.  I’d much rather give it all up for someone to wake up next to.  I have disillusions about who that person could be.  They don’t want to be what i need,  and I’m having to try my hardest to end up to be less than half of what i need to be.  its like living in a sick joke directed only at those of us who care enough to see this world continue.  Keeping the lights on is all we can do.  I asked a friend if it could all go away and he said not much.  Hoping this makes some sort of connection to someone,  I’m not sure anyone will care but maybe my future self reading it back will understand it too.

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