Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Tirades regarding homeless dogma

My sister is homeless. By choice and because of a mental disorder. This doesn’t shock me, though. I’ve known plenty of homeless people, and I like them. Been homeless myself, in fact. But she’s taking it to an extreme. Defending people who either don’t want or don’t deserve to be defended. 

I one hundred percent agree that people have the right to live where they want. But when that right infringes on the rights of others, be it their Constitutional right to liberty or the pursuit of happiness, there’s a problem.

I can’t support the homeless who disrespect local business owners. I can’t support the homeless who prey on those who work minimum wage jobs, disrespecting them by begging non-stop and feeling as though they’re owed something. I can’t support the homeless who blatantly do drugs in public, discard their trash wherever they want because they see it as their right. It’s not their right. It’s just disrespectful bullshit, and I’ve lived with the Rainbow Family, so I’ve seen enough of those delusions of grandeur to last a lifetime.

Why can’t y’all go live in the forest? Hitchhike into town when you need supplies?

That’s the end of my tirade today. I’m well-educated, but I’ve also lived on the streets, so I’m no match for dogmatic crap. Tomorrow, I’ll share the story of my biggest regret, which includes falling in love with a homeless drunk. “Ring of Fire” is our song.


Thursday, August 22, 2013

Taking grass for granted


I realized last night as I sat in the backyard, looking up at the clouds lit up by a full moon, that I took so many things for granted as a kid in the Midwest. First off, I always thought I'd always have a lawn. With plush, deep green grass and no shortage of plants. Probably my yard wouldn't be as perfectly trimmed as that of my neighbors, but it would be a wonderful backyard oasis where I could take off my shoes and let the grass tickle my feet. Every day, if I wanted.

But in the desert, we don't really have lawns. Water saving and all that. I don't even really have a front yard to speak of, and the backyard consists of a brick tiled patio and a bunch of rocks. It's also much tinier than the yards I ran around in in my youth. It's so strange to look back and realize that things that were absolute when you were young are not at all reality in your grown up life.

I love being outside. I love the fact that my house is situated two blocks from the edge of the desert and I can take walks there anytime where it's quiet and there's no traffic or herds of people. I can climb the closest peak and have panoramic views of the surrounding mountains, flanked to the east by the unnatural glow of the Las Vegas strip skyline, the antithesis of all things natural.

20 minutes of hiking and it feels like I'm on the edge of the world, but I still miss walking in grass. I miss its verdant smell after a rain shower and how the dew sticks to it on humid mornings.

Saturday, March 3, 2007

Friday, March 2, 2007