The Shelter

 This is how I feel today: 

• I feel that I am never going to be able to find a job, 
• That I’m going to be living broke for the rest of my life,
• That I am never going to expand my social circle beyond what it is now, 
• And that the world is falling on my head right now. 

It’s not like that.  

This is a competitive atmosphere. Here in New York, I know I’m going to have to do something to stand out for any employer looking to hire. 

Regardless, though, I’m having a hell of a time in The Bronx. 

It started two weeks ago when I moved to this borough. Super skeptical at first, I was dreading coming to the shelter I’m at now because of some of the reviews people posted. Here are some of the things they say: 

Super discouraging, right? The fact we’re not allowed to film or take photos revealing what’s inside of this facility is what makes things a blessing and a curse. 

For anyone without a thing to lose, this place is great. 

For those who leave home expecting to be at the Ritz, not so much— anyone that’s dumb enough isn’t going to take the chance and they’ll give up their bed. 

The place is clean for the most part. The food is better than the food from the transitional shelter in Brooklyn— they actually serve us gourmet recipes here at the permanent shelter— so I’m happy about that. 

I just realized today the main bathroom is almost finished being renovated, so if I were to wait it out a little longer I will reap the benefits of a nicer facility. The bathrooms aren’t all that bad right now, they’re just a bit too crammed up and the shower heads suck. (It’s literally just like a thin, luke-warm water spout) I guess they make it so we’re not too comfortable here because they get me to say it all the time, 

“I need to find a job so I could save up and get out of here, I really want my own place.” 

Not even a sugar momma would help. A job would. 

I’ve gotten used to the lights being flicked on at 6am because my biological clock wakes me up a little ahead of that point. Usually, when I want to sleep in a little longer, I will cover my face with my beanie and knock right back out. I don’t want to sleep in most of the time because of this screech being emitted by the elevator right down the hall. It seems as if it needs some WD-40 sprayed on those guide rails. I see it as Gods way of telling me, “Wake the fuck up.”

I don’t try spending much time here but there’re also not many places for me to be. 

Bars don’t appeal to me because I do not like being around drunkards. 

Clubs are open too late and I prefer staying in. 

Carnivals are too crowded for me. 

Museums are nice. 

So is the library. 

I spend my time being in places where I could find people I would like to be around. It’s kind of crazy to have given up on school, but I know people won’t find any appropriate way to relate to me because I feel I’m just too much. 

I’m starting to accept that. 

Looking at it from their perspective, some of the things I write about can be very petrifying. Some of the things I write about might not even be real. What does that say about my state of mind at the time of writing some of the things people read? 

I know I’m not crazy! But being on the streets will do that to ya! If I’m walking around all day, trying to find the job people want me to have so bad— and I don’t take a break— what do you think will happen to a person who neglects their health during this process? 

No water. No food. No sleep. Just the drive to find that job people want us to find. 

At the end of the day, after trying to live it up, I lay my head on my bed, and I thank God I’m not dead. 

For the first time in my life, I don’t have someone breathing down my neck, telling me I have to find a job or go to an AA meeting. It’s a really special time to be alive right now for me because I truly believe our country is headed in the right direction. The times Joe Biden put us through seemed like hell. Really can’t believe I survived through it.  

That’s the only reason why I continue marching forward— because I believe in the future of this country again. 

People don’t want to believe the complexities of computer science. We are all too attached to the trends from the last decade: 

• Guys still believe they don’t need school to succeed.
• The Gals are heavily attached to the idea their mindset is going to determine their lifestyle. 

Living here in at the shelter has taught me how simple it is for me to choose to fuck up my life. All it takes is for me to pack me stuff and refuse the care people offer here. All it takes is for me to walk right out the front door and never come back before I’m sleeping beside a stairway at the subway station.  

I refuse to do that because I love my showers in the morning...love showers, love a good meal, to use a restroom without having to be a customer at store. 

Everything within my reach is being cherished and not taken for granted. I worked for everything I have right now: liberty, a bed, clothes, food, a phone— I worked for these things. 

People can’t deny that. 

People don’t understand we could get kicked out of these places if we get too complacent, that’s not something I plan on being. 

Within a year or two I think I should be doing better. 

—I already am but there’s always room for improvement.