So I Am still Here, Love

Yes I am still here. Traipsing around Hackney, re-visiting a couple of ‘Drop-Ins’ that I got familiar with when I was homeless a few years ago. Now that the new Council Tax legislation has reduced me I thought I’d use, or had to use, these soup kitchen open door places. Much improvement since my day a homeless louche.  O.K.  So I wasn’t a louche as I was never shady,dubious, or disreputable, but I was homeless. And that by societal definition makes you a louche.

I am still here in Hackney wondering why.

Not why was I homeless all those years ago for so many years at different times.   That is a long convoluted story full of innuendo, conspiracy theories and facts.  As they all are I suppose.

No, I am wondering:  “Why am I still in Hackney?”   I mean, can’t I go elsewhere?  Move house?  Oh, I don’t own one.

O.K.   Visit friends and relatives for this great hot Summer?  Friends?  Ah, I owe them money.   Oops.    Relatives?   All in other countries, and I have no money.

The circle is completed.

Money it is.   Love makes the world go around, and so it should, but money makes us enjoy the world a bit more. Money is not the root of all evil.  The love of money is though.

I would love to have some money to pay off bills and enjoy a few paid gigs.  I would love to have some money to give to certain people and to repay a few others.  I would love to have some money so that I could go on holiday.

What holiday?  I do not have a job.   I am permanently on holiday actively seeking gainful (read paid) employment.

Would I enjoy the world a bit more if I had money?  Oh yes!  I would be able to spend days if not months away from the hole that is Hackney. That would make me enjoy the world a bit more.

Right now as Hackney is (G-d help me!!) the only world I get to enjoy I am beginning to get obsessed with the need for money. ‘Bout time too.

I am also getting older and incrementally disinclined to revamp my CV or even polish up or get a skill.   I am applying for jobs and trying catalogue distribution. Not much there.

I am feeling retired.  Put out to pasture.  Left to graze the meager tufts jutting between the rocks of a hard place.  (Am I a writer or what!?)

Seriously, I am still here, in Hackney watching the new developments spring as I wait for the Summer’s Sun to  burn the carcass of my dead past.  In doing this the Summer’s Sun has enabled me to address some ‘home affairs’ and I am once again communicating with particular family and old friends.

They are particular in that I love them even though I have not been in contact for over a decade. They are particular in that they didn’t give a rat’s fart about that and are phoning me up weekly. They are particular in that they love me more than money or the world it seems. And that is nice.

Oh! If only I could escape the Hackney carriage of dole and ride on a star.  Or maybe an aeroplane.

Yes, I am still here, love, and life is beautiful.  And not even the Hackney zombies can change that.