Lost In Space

On Being Homeless

couch outside

I’m going to sum up, if I can, what it’s been like to be homeless. Maybe not destitute and living on the street homeless, but still, no less, without a home. This is what drifting is about, to me, anyway.

It’s about space.
It’s about moving, shifting, transitioning, always.
It’s about transition.
It’s about finding direction.
It’s about finding purpose.

It’s about being driven out.
It’s about displacement.
It’s about being in the way.
It’s about laying low.
It’s about spacing out.

It’s about learning not to be sad.
It’s about keeping it all hidden, everything.
It’s about pretending you’re not homeless.
It’s about pretending.
It’s about being invisible.

It’s about everyone else’s space.
It’s about trying not to be in the way.
It’s about looking in from the outside.
It’s about pulling strings and calling in favors.
It’s about IOUs.

It’s about the in-betweens, not the points.
It’s about good timing.
It’s about bad timing.
It’s about timing.
It’s about falling

It’s about a comet crushing your house.
It’s about being jettisoned into the unknown, and
Being forced to grow up faster than you would have preferred and
Adapt or die.
It’s about being blasted into space.

It’s about finding your own space when you don’t belong anywhere, and
Making space if you have to.
It’s about learning what home is or at least what homeless isn’t.
It’s about finding home.
Or rather,

It’s about getting there.

3 thoughts on “Lost In Space

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