Posted: July 7, 2012 in transliteration

My first stint of homelessness was brief and due almost entirely to wounded pride.
I had friends who would have helped, and I had family who, had they known, would have forcefully remedied the situation.

Since then, I have deliberately isolated myself further, but…
I still have a few friends who would do anything to help, and though I’ve put an inconvenient distance
between myself and my family, I bet they’d close that gap in a heartbeat if they knew

that I’m really not okay.

I haven’t been okay for a long time, and I thought I could distract myself and fight through it.
That seems to be how most people cope.
It isn’t so much about the motions of life.
I can find an income and a safe harbor. I can do the necessary things to make sure my basic needs are met.
I do them without too much resentment.

Sometimes I don’t care for the situation.
Sometimes I’m able to change these superficial aspects of my life a little.

My second stint of homelessness was shorter than the first
and it was due almost entirely to restlessness.
I settled out of it and returned to my original plans
because I wanted to
but as far as life events providing the impetus to re-root

It was only a phone call from a stranger
who received my number from a former employer
asking me if I was interested in loving their Timneh African Grey parrot

and I found myself interested.

I’m going to miss her a lot, as I tie up loose ends before entering in
to my third round.

Don’t worry.
I’ve found her a much better home than I’ve ever provided for her.


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