from peril to demise and the fight to survive

I hunger and yearn for, in addition to stiff shots of rye whiskey, stability and security.

A place of rest. A place TO rest.

An end to the assaults from and destruction to my life by roommates. (If you haven’t, please read the prior post on the vile action from my former Smoker roommate.)

I could review the past three months in Denver. Is it necessary?

Three weeks, unplanned, in a motel chiefly due to a lack of response from craigslisters.

Ten weeks in a residence fouled by smoke and bitter hatefulness and ill will.

A second residence with a Rampager where on day 5 a forceful demand was issued that I leave. Now! And if not now, then damn fast.

A bakery job where I was assured 20-25 hours a week with a quick rise to 35-ish. By week two, for reasons understandable, my hours sunk from 20 to 12. Then to zero.

A housecleaning job where my hours, though unpredictable I was told, would hover around 20-25. In the first week, I worked around 4. Now in week two: hours=0.

The damage continues. People in mass numbers still do not respond to my (a) resumes and (b) responses to rooommate ads. (For those unaware, I am desperate for both housing and most importantly employment.)

Doesn’t require a rocket scientist to measure the velocity of destruction and instability underlying my short time in Denver.

It breaks my heart for Denver was not a name pulled out of a hat. The process of getting here involved years of introspection, soul-searching and creating pennies from air.

And air is what I feel I’m walking on here. Which is incongruent and perplexing given the magnificent and soaring Rocky Mountains that define western Colorado and are always within view and short reach.

My present dilemma pairing unemployment and pending homelessness UNLESS a job is offered by month’s end is profoundly threatening to my life, present, future and me. I search my mind for all possible solutions, regardless of how silly and unreasonable and outside the box they be, to bring to bear a toothpick log foundation of stability from the gaping void beneath me now.

I pray, knowing not whether God hears me or exists. I’m a person of faithlessness digging down so deep for a speck of faith.

I entertain ideas, rescue plans and scant options and throw out those lacking viability or potential.

I break down into blithering uncontrollable wrenching sobbing for half an hour in a downtown Denver office.

I walk and fall through air because for reasons of profound mystery Denver keeps giving me air. Even with the soaring Rockies right there.

I am as of today without address. My former Smoker roommate, Marcy, betrayed me by promising to hold my mail while behind my back refusing to accept delivery, creating near misses of diastrous proportion to my life. Not hers. Mine.

My current address, lasting all of a blink of an eye, is to cease anon; I do not trust her either to hold any mail.

So as of today my address is “general delivery.” No place. No numbers save a Zip code

The mark of travelers and homeless.

I know not what more or else to write other than that I live, breathe and swim in constant terror. Try as I do in every waking moment to maintain reason and composure and rational thought, the truth is that I am falling through the cracks and the Denver net, I fear to say through experience, will not hold me long. If it holds me at all.

I am very very very afraid.

Angry at Marcy, who behind an agreeable facade was such the bitch to willingly destroy my safety to satisfy her a bitter cruelty.

I don’t know what will come minute to minute. I am in terror and scrambling with every fiber of my being and mind for a place of safety. A place that will have me. A place of rock, not air created by, above all else, the prevailing lack of response.

Which is to say taht I can send out a thousand resumes and a thousand responses to housing ads, yet if almost no one responds, how do I secure employment and shelter?

I cautiously write that Denver’s Chill is icing me out of everything.

Security. Stability. Solid Midwestern values. These I yearn for at a depth inexpressible.

I am in peril. And too soon peril gives way to demise.

I fight to survive. This is all.

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9 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. fatcatfromvox
    Oct 27, 2011 @ 10:08:36

    I wish you well – and I hope something good comes your way really soon. Stay safe, please.

    Reply

  2. inaformerlifeanexpat
    Oct 27, 2011 @ 14:17:38

    Think you should consider putting Denver in the rearview mirror while you can.

    Reply

  3. longeyesamurai
    Oct 28, 2011 @ 02:44:36

    Were you at least able to contact your previous employer to enquire about getting your paycheck?

    Reply

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