My Life in Argentina and Beyond

One day the cats disappeared. They were living in a parking lot on Havemeyer, corner Metropolitan Avenue in Williamsburgh, Brooklyn. The next day, about 8 or 9 of them went missing. They are so unprotected! Who cares about them if they were abandoned and/or dumped in the first place? They had nowhere else to live besides the parking lot. Even if it was not an ideal place because they had no protection during the winter season, with all the snow falling and when the rains come down hard they had no choice but to hide under the cars—still it was their home. They are gone now. They are not to be seen.

Failure? Who Says? Supposedly, I am a failure. Funny, but I don’t feel like a failure. The idea of not believing in myself has not entered my psyche. Things are hard right now. They are very hard and they might get worse. Some people might want to take advantage of that, but I cannot let them do that. Some might even want to hurt me. They cannot do that, either.

Storage room in Brooklyn. New windows. Better windows. It is all the same. I have very little time left. How to decide? Going, yes, I know I have to go. But where?  I am, not scared. I am just tired and disgusted. If I were me a few years earlier, I'd be throwing up. A lack of home--physical and emotional--has been a greabig theme in my life. That lack was made even worse when I lost my home in GA to mortgage fraud, predatory lending and foreclosure. I blame myself for taking that Greyhound bus to Atlanta. I cannot blame myself for doing everything I could to save it when I found out what had happened, what I had been mixed up in. Now in New York 2011, I am homeless again. I can say this: It sucks!

How I remember the feeling. I remember it because I have been feeling it for years! I better not buy this; I better not do that because I may not be around in a week or two. I may not be here. What’s the use of carrying extra stuff around with me?

Storage room in Brooklyn. New windows. Better windows. It is all the same. I have very little time left. How to decide? Going, yes, I know I have to go. But where?  I am, not scared. I am just tired and disgusted. If I were me a few years earlier, I'd be throwing up. A lack of home--physical and emotional--has been a greabig theme in my life. That lack was made even worse when I lost my home in GA to mortgage fraud, predatory lending and foreclosure. I blame myself for taking that Greyhound bus to Atlanta. I cannot blame myself for doing everything I could to save it when I found out what had happened, what I had been mixed up in. Now in New York 2011, I am homeless again. I can say this: It sucks!

How I remember the feeling. I remember it because I have been feeling it for years! I better not buy this; I better not do that because I may not be around in a week or two. I may not be here. What’s the use of carrying extra stuff around with me?

I still remember her sneakers. The memory is as vivid today as if it was happening today. They had once been white and new. Now they were well worn and dirty, black, brown and other colors in spots. She would bend down to tie them. It took her a long time. Wait, wait, she’d tell the dogs. I can’t go out with the shoe laces untied. She would get impatient and shake her head. Sometimes the shoe laces became knotty and undoing them was not easy. After half an hour or so she would look up and sigh. Her face was happy but tired. I have done it! Now I can take you for a walk

I am standing nowhere. It is supposed to be called something, but I have no idea what that name could be. Limbo would be a good word. Limbo sounds unsteady and uncertain. My life. That is my life. If I had to describe it, I think I’d call it not a good thing. It is an existence. I still breathe and move about, but at a great emotional cost.
I want to feel rich. I want to think there are no money or housing problems. This afternoon I’ll go buy 8 ounces of sour cream—thick and rich sour cream. It’s a fantasy for about $1.50.

I saw Him
Corner of Bedford Avenue and South 6th Street, Williamsburgh, Brooklyn: A dog walked with his owner. The owner was a young man in his late 20s. How like Rubio he is, I thought. I stared after him. Rubio used to have a similar kind of walk and his rear end was almost the same color as this dog. Maybe he is watching me from Up there in Doggie Heaven. I got some bad news last night and I certainly need comforting. He protected me and I could trust him. My German Shepherd was my friend.

Out of Here!
Quick, quick, I want to say to somebody. I need to get out of here. I don’t like it and it is making me sick. Something is wrong and I know exactly what it is. I am definitely on the homeless side. There is no one. Whoever it is that I know or once knew is out there, doing something else, whatever that is.
Time is running out. There is a deadline, a deadline that is not likely to have an extension. Renewal is not an option.

Solace. I seek it in some of my favorite books, like Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park and Gone with the Wind. I try to stay positive and not think about the future. The future scares me. Change in my life has been more bad than good. It has brought some progress but it has also taken away crucial people. My way of getting solace is healthy and culture-oriented. I am grateful that I am not turning to drugs or alcohol.

Solace. I seek it in some of my favorite books, like Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park and Gone with the Wind. I try to stay positive and not think about the future. The future scares me. Change in my life has been more bad than good. It has brought some progress but it has also taken away crucial people. My way of getting solace is healthy and culture-oriented. I am grateful that I am not turning to drugs or alcohol.