I’ve not had my eye on the ball much recently. Things keep slipping past me as I’ve dissapeared inside myself but this jerked me back for a moment. W.T.F? What the fucking fuck? Let me get this straight, the Seaview project of St Leonard’s held a charity sleep out in a box event…. I want that to sink in for a moment…. They got people to sleep out, in a box, for charity, for one night.
Little known fact, I actually have been homeless. True it was the “sofa surfing, where the hell do I get that form sent? Slip through the cracks and lose everything I ever owned before finding my feet and slowly rebuilding my life over fifteen years homeless” rather than the “I’ve just been moved on by the old bill for messing up someone’s nice and tidy park bench for the tenth time tonight, maybe if I drink some more special brew my problems will go away for one blissful moment ” homeless but I know that terrifying feeling of touching the void.
I recognise a lot of names on the guest list, there are people who were partying in bottle ally during coastal currents (where the fuck do you think people went when you were having a knees up in their bedroom?) and others who shun and defriend the mentally ill at the drop of a hat. What fucking hypocrites you are! I personally know a few Seaview clients, I have painted a few and am happy to chat for a while. But they are proud people and a lot of them aren’t very well in one way or another.I have even been in there myself a few times for advice. No one wants to end up homeless and it is always much nearer than you think, one lost job, one broke relationship, a death in the family, too much stress and bang! There you are on your arse with your world in pieces.
One question really intrigues me…. Was there a bar? Because if there was then someone really needs their arse kicking. Also, did they get woken up by the police ten times a night? Did anyone piss on them, put the boot in, rummage through their pockets? Did anyone have a go at them for owning a mobile phone, for having a cigarette or doing anything other than grovel and fawn in the dirt like the scum they are assumed to be? You can’t walk away from that sort of poverty back to your nice home, you can’t walk away from the skin diseases, the heart, liver and brain damage either. This is real and nasty and dibilatating. Some dirt never comes off.
Words fail…. What next? How about this! Find some striped pyjamas, scrawl a number on your arm with a marker pen and book a trip to Auschwitz. But Hey! It’s for charity!