content: Tales from the street y'all I have actually walked the streets of my own desire trying to help homeless people. i didn’t do it like an idiot, i imagined “what would i need to do to stop being homeless if i became homeless?” i went to a community center in the heart of hobo territory, its called gathering place, they sell lunch for like a dollar. like a canadian dollar. i talked to a social worker there and i printed off a shit ton of different information on how to not be homeless any more. i’m talking directions to a homeless shelter that will let you keep your dog and your heroin, that low a bar. i’m talkin soup kitchens, cheap as fuck cafeterias, where you can get a shower, where you can use a gym for free, where you can sleep the night, shit like that. i also brought money and gave people like two bucks and the folder of info . i think bus fair was cheaper back then, i would have given them more money but i am also poor and i was like scouring the area trying to reach as many homeless people as i could. there were so many limitations to my outreach, if i had more money i could have given more money, i could have spent more time on each hobo (longer then the conversation i would have with each other them) what i found was, if they were young (younger then 26 say), and they had a sign that said that they were traveling or they were far from home or they were lost, and they needed some help.  and their sign wasn’t asking for weed,  and especially if it just said help and not cash specifically. but sometimes asking for cash. then if i gave them the folder on where to go to not be homeless any more then they wouldn’t be there the next day. everyone else? the 95% of homeless people that i talked to? they were still there on that same spot a week later. its not an economic problem at least where i come from, its a mental health problem. These people are totally disordered and dillusional and plagued with mental issues and things like greif and anxiety and depression the likes of which we can’t even imagine until we are in that position. seeing shit like people that they love have their bodies rot because of a drug, lovers, parents, children, or they have been abused or have born witness to someone withering from an altogether unrelated alement like cancer, and it just breaks them mentally. this one homeless dude? i was trying to help him and he was just aggressive as fuck on the bus and made everyone uncomfortable, someone made the mistake of giving him eye contact and he started just ranting about how he was kicked out of the hospital and riddled with alements that were going to kill him, sores were forming on his wirey thin body (a weird mix of dying of drugs and strong from drugs), but his face looked like an old man (atleast 65) whos seen way to much, he talked angrily like it was the fault of everyone around him for his position, his voice naturally boomed and repelled people. young men near me hushed under their breath about how they will protect the rest of the bus from him if he got violent, i just sat and paid attention. I could tell that he was near the end of his rope. kind of like how a fish flops while its gasping for air once its been caught and reeled in. i tried talking to him before we got on the bus and over something i can't remember he got angry. after the bus i tried talking to him about the community center and where he could get some food. he told me if i want to help him i should get him food, because he's hungry and hasn't eaten  in days.  he tells me specifically to go to burger king and get him a chicken sandwich. i go to burger king and buy him a chicken sandwich he takes it and eats it, and while he talks he tells me about how he's going to visit someone in the hospital whos whole body was covered in third degree burns and lost their entire face. i think, if i remember correctly, they also lost atleast a limb. all they know how to do is wander the streets like a lost ghost stuck in limbo. they are essentially already dead, and merely their bodies have been left alive still breathing, a zombie, dragging with it their spirit like a kite on a string, not yet allowed to cross over, largely because of their own cowardice, which is wearing thinner every day.