The Hardest Part
If there are other people out there reading this and considering their own transition to the home-free life–whether for personal, political, environmental or economic reasons–they might be inclined to ask, “what’s the hardest part?”
Well, I’ll be honest about what the hardest part for me is, mentally.
The hardest part is imagining sleeping without the usual degree of safety.
While my room is an entirely superfluous environment–I don’t much like going home, to be honest, as it feels cluttered and creatively stifling, and the access to a kitchen is nice but unnecessary–I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping in a comfortable, safe zone, where I don’t have to worry about waking up with the sun (I have blinds) or by a cop’s nightstick.
In my mind, I’ve already accepted every facet of my forthcoming lifestyle change. In many ways, I think it will be like a long vacation. I’ll have tons of freedom of choice regarding how to bide my time. But I struggle frequently with the idea of being awoken against my will. I’m not really concerned with passers-by, but I have an absolute hatred of police that stems from them never doing anything nice for me and treating me like shit (so perhaps understandable, as far as negative reinforcement goes). And I really can’t stomach the idea of an authority figure waking someone up who doesn’t have a home for sleeping in a public park. Sleep is a human need. Why are there sleeping laws in public parks? Or in cars? I don’t understand where they expect people to go.
It’s another example of how poverty is reviled in America. I guess if you treat the poor people badly enough eventually they’ll kill themselves or freeze to death somewhere and the problem solves itself.
