Monthly Archives: April 2014

22 000

22,000

that’s all I needed for a 3 bdrm 2bath dream home. A mobile home of all things, but a beautiful neighborhood, fantastic lighting, amenities included, appliances included. I don’t have large aspirations, I don’t have pipe dreams or delusions of grandeur, I wanted something simple. I don’t expect the American be handed to me, quite frankly I don’t expect anything be handed to me, I don’t wish to be lazy, I don’t wish to sit around and do nothing. I came here to work hard, save and obtain something for my hard work. You see however there is nothing to be had, there is no prize for that labor. I should work hard for what? For a moldy apartment that isn’t mine, that I should give up more than half of my salary for this piece of property I don’t even own, just so I can live somewhere, never be able to hang a picture on the wall, or paint the rooms for fear of reprisal of the owner. I should have to toil and groan for years laboring under a job that may or may not give me a one dollar raise for 10 years of labor, so that I can afford to spend a little more on food but still live in another persons home. No I am not lazy but that does not matter, it is those that work hard that get the worse deal. If I was lazy I would move into section 8 housing or apply for food stamps and never work…but what would that do…I cant sit around and do nothing its not in my nature.   When I get tired of that then what? I would find myself in a worse position as my history of being in a section 8 house and having applied and received food stamps would only further put me in a hole. I would be forever branded as a thing, a leech, a parasite of society. Not a single person would be concerned with who I am but what I look like on a piece of paper. Well why not do what they do in the movies, apply for a mortgage a loan and such. Well what they don’t say in the movies how virtually impossible that is, without a fantastic credit score, without a long credit and rental history, without a vast history of employment and any one of those disadvantages out casts the others. I have done nothing wrong, I have hurt no one to deserve this treatment. With all the money my mother had given me over the last three years just to make ends meet as no one would give me a steady job, I could have bought a house or at least this house that I saw as my only answer. I put no blame on the outside world or others but I can not find the blame in myself either. No job would allow me to buy a home. How anyone is able to do so is a great mystery to me, and in shame I find myself green with envy at the thought that there may be persons living their fairy tale lives. Perhaps it is my naiveté, perhaps my lack of world experience, it is quite possible that in truth many others feel as I do, perhaps more than I think. Still I wonder of these people who seem to have such a better life than I could ever offer my family. Is it that they were better prepared, do they know some secret that I do not, something I was never taught. I ask myself then…do they know how fortunate they are?…do they really appreciate and soak in they’re good fortune. I am stricken with anger and envy, sheer hatred, at the injustice. I blame none but I blame all, the hatred swells and I think of Eminems Rock Bottom and the lyrics play over on my mind of pulling up to someone’s lawn with guns drawn. Is this the frustration that so many “criminals” feel, perhaps at using the word criminal we alienate ourselves from the real problem…we deny that we are all in the same situation, or perhaps not all. Perhaps it is my sobriety that causes this fury. Indeed if I were a drug user or alcoholic, I would be content with my simple lot in life, I would be numb to my true despair. Some would say, how I should count myself lucky to have my wife and son in relative health, what they do not see is that the life I am giving them is a fate far worse than die, in fact to put a finer point on it is in fact a slow and painful death. Much quicker and humane would be to simply put them out of their misery with a merciful bullet or drown them in a tub…a rented tub no less, where the owners would have to clean the cold remains in order to put the home back up for rent to the next poor family of saps. Nay I ask not be handed anything, I ask only the opportunity to work hard and earn my keep, but to throw money away to make someone else that much wealthier, someone who does not even enjoy that home, someone who see’s it as nothing more than dollar value. Why should this person own this home, surely he or she owns their own home and is living in it at this moment, why then should they be awarded the luxury of an extra home they do not enjoy only to reap a profit from a poor and unsuspecting family that like the poor orphan Oliver takes the scraps that these elevated bourgeois throw them. Like a mangy street dog we eat the leftovers of those that have had their fill. It dawns on me that perhaps the very reason these houses are unattainable by the average working man is for that very purpose, to maintain the system of abuse, so that those who need nothing can take more from those that need everything. Perhaps if these heartless giants would but take only what they need their would be enough space for us all.

I am not blind to the toils of the rich either…I lived cluelessly among them all my life and I recognize that there are those who are in many ways undeserving of a piece of the pie. But to those “rich” I say we are not all bums…how dare you catalog all of us with a few bad apples. There are those that DO expect a hand out, that spend their days in the drug world, in the world of prostitution not out of necessity but out of apathy and sloth…they who achieve nothing because they despise hard work, they focus only on the satisfaction of desire. Yes I do see this as well, but I say to you I am not one of these, and there are many others like me, some short, some tall, some black, white or brown, yellow and red. Those of us who want no hand outs, who work hard, perhaps we are even as capable as those who attained ivy league education, we simply had an extra obstacle or chose family instead of the pursuit of wealth. It is happiness that we pursue however, not he happiness found at the end of a bottle, or the happiness in a pill at a club. It is to have our own space and to call it our home, where we can find shelter from the cold and uncaring world of outside, where our family can find solace in each others embrace, where a less fortunate friend of family member can find a couch to sleep on from time to time. A place we can call ours. We need not worry of a bank taking it from us, or landlord evicting us when we fall on hard times that are more often than not, out of our control…you see we are not lazy, we do not let time pass before we find another avenue of employment. The average man wishes not to rebel, wishes not to revolt, he has simple dreams and simple desire, he wishes for a home, a family movie, a chance to live in relative peace in this miserable existence we did not choose to be brought into. It is this system that makes us sick, it is this machine that causes us to begin an uprising…this malignant world that rewards only the sly and cunning, those that would trample on their fellow man…these too are white, black, brown, yellow, red, they may be well educated or born in poverty, but they have one thing in common, they are not of simple dreams, or simple needs, they want more than they can chew and worse yet they want what is yours. Is this so cut and dry and issue as I paint at times not, but more often than not it is…there is evil in this world and it has one. Power, and money are king and so long this king reign the princes of virtue and compassion have no chance to rule.

 

I am but a small voice, seedling of truth, but at times I am comforted that like the mighty sequoia, great things are born of little seeds. This is the dreamer in me, the fool, the child’s hope of a perfect world…that in truth is not even that perfect, it is simply a bit more just.

 

The truth of the world is harsh, good men are trampled down, the innocent are crushed without compassion and bad things do happen to good people.

 

On this cheerful note I end my statements.

This foolish rant over a home may seem trite…but consider that opportunities like this are few and all that I said is true, for me and many others, there is no home I will find for this amount, an amount I did not even have but would have at least tried to get, never will I have more than what I have now…how can I know this, well I just know how the world works, if you search your heart you will know it to be true. If you consider yourself safe, and disagree with what I say then you ought to consider yourself lucky, for little more than luck had anything to do with it…appreciate what you have, for it is less and less attainable as each day passes for many like me, and specifically for me.

I am without hope for hope has left this world long ago, it is why we make so many movies and books about it, because we mourn its passing. My credit like a black spot has served as a metaphor of what my life has become, an unfortunate turn of fate, that has replaced my heart with a tainted dark hole.

 

To look into my families eyes and know I can never offer them anymore than what they have…which is nothing…what have I done to deserve this, why should I be denied what so many others attain with ease. I am no less prepared and no less willing to struggle and earn, I am as every bit as intelligent but somehow I am unworthy of the simplest things. A home, a small humble plot of space, that I will only now be able to see in my dreams, and slowly even that will fade away.

Woe is me, that has lost the ability to dream.

Only nightmares have I, that are slowly becoming my reality.

 

(you as the collective audience must excuse my lack of respect for your intellect. I have not corrected grammatical mistakes, nor phrasal errors, nor have I proof read this paper in the least. Instead I opted to maintain the integrity of the speech…this is the very product of my physical self catching up with the mind as it feebly attempts to convey into writing what it thinks as it actually happens. This is a messy and unpleasant exercise akin to thinking itself. Perhaps in that sense it is true to the spirit and emotion of what I am saying…it is pure, it is honest and it is nothing short of the naked thought process shown on paper as best it can be done by mine hand. For this I apologize, I realize it must be a tumultuous ordeal to venture into my mind, but I assure you if you take the time to include empathy in your critique you will find it a truly enriching opportunity to relate as closely to another human being as possible without having actually met let alone touched this persons entity…at least that’s how I would see it, but what do I know most people think Im crazy.)have-we-turned-a-page-on-our-idea-of-american-dream