Today is Tuesday morning, June 09 20k, 01:55. I am sitting in the doorway of the Pacific Center building in Portland Oregon, because I have nowhere to go and it’s raining.

I was separated from my job in October and gave up my apartment two weeks after, so not to have a… I forget what it’s called, on my record but I discovered that they would keep my deposit for extra cleaning and paint. The place didn’t need painting. They charged me 900$+ for my departure. When I found out, I would not get any money back …I gave up. It took me a few years to get back on my feet so I could live alone again, so I could feel independent. I had that apartment for five months. I loved living downtown, I could go for a walk and not feel bad about being out because it was my choice not circumstance. But here I am again, a month later I got my heart back in place and found another job, stayed in a shelter ate their food but it wasn’t enough, I have to eat more to keep up my energy. I have food assistance but they don’t give single people enough. When you’re homeless you eat even more if you’re healthy and working.

I am fortunate that there’s a group who come out to feed people at night, I spend that 194$ (food stamps) in less than two weeks. It’s impossible to save money. I stay in hotel when I can, it helps me to keep from feeling like a total failure but it’s not enough, especially now. Fuck. A goddamn pandemic, what the fuck God! You see me busting my ass here, and you knock me down with this and a fucking racial shit. This is why you kept me from jumping off that bridge. Damn. All that work, this is what I sobered up for.

To feel like a hopeless fool one day and a praying monk another?

I’m not giving up but damn. When do I get a break.

I walk over to the justice center after work to see the protesters; they have a lot of heart to be out here in the rain amidst a pandemic. I ask some people, why hasn’t anyone made smoke bombs yet, I didn’t loot the first time but I might the next.

Upon my exit a young man asks.
How do you feel about all this, being a black man in America?
I am proud of you, really I am (but right now), I am numb. I cannot afford the luxury or privilege to feel anything right now, other than the chill I’m fighting off.

I can’t even ask a favor because some jackass decided to pass a dirty virus along and society has gone amuck.

But I won’t stand on a corner begging because I have a damn job.

My battery is low… I gotta have a way to call for help if I need it so. Goodnight be well and find a better way to weep America. If you see me, maybe we can hug it out.

☮️