Sunday, November 17, 2013

Tucson City Blues

I can safely say without a doubt that I have simply wasted the past five months of my life. Waiting. Waiting on something that, in all respects, will not bare any fruit. I don't want to come across as whiny or a complainer, but hey, fuck you, this is my blog.
Let me give you the low down: I arrived in Tucson to stay at the Primavera Men's Shelter in the attempt to remain in their three month 'program' only to save money and continue my planned trip to Puerto Rico. Instead, within the first month, I was offered to rent at a transitional housing complex to await an apartment through HUD.
At the time, Tucson was pleasant and offered certain amenities which I found attractive. After a month at the shelter, I immediately moved into the apartments. Against many dire warnings from several transients who were past tenants. How bad could it be, I thought. After happily living in slums south of the border, I was certain I could handle it. And, so I did. It was not bad, rent was affordable, they offered a common kitchen in the main building. A state of the art kitchen with a well stocked supply of food so as I needn't worry about spending money on groceries. The housing was a two year gig where your only goal was to save money to attain a permanent apartment. The small room was clean and had necessary furnishings - a bed, dresser, bookshelf, end table, desk, some chairs. The only thing was you had to share your bathroom with an adjoining room in which someone else rented.
After the third week, I came to the sudden realization that this was definitely not a good move. The other tenants were, to put it mildly, the most negative, repugnant, unappreciative group I ever had to deal with. The worst that the American culture had to offer. Day after day, week after week, I had to tolerate the banality and dull conversations, the back stabbing and gossip, the accusations and racist remarks, the loud, over baring noises of half-deaf morons who yelled over one another's conversations. My assigned roommate was a seventy year old pedophile whose only line of dialog consisted of lurid stories concerning his fucked up family or his passion on screwing 11yr. old girls.
My patience wore thin. To receive my psych meds, I hooked up with the city's nut house, CODAC. One of the benefits was that they offered a program in which I would seek an apartment - anywhere, as long as rent was no more than $650 - and I would only have to pay 30% of my monthly income. It was enticing and I jumped on the deal. After a few stops and starts, that grinded to a halt.
So, I waited. And I waited. Biting my tongue and turning a blind eye to the rampant favoritism and idiotic negativity which surrounded me on a daily basis. Months passed as several tenants who came in after me attained apartments through various programs and left. I waited.
My patience is gone. I need to release myself from this horror that I had put myself in. As I mentioned in my last post, I have a ticket, but it is back to El Paso. I went online and saw HUD is offering studio apartments. That means I will be placed back in the building that I so much loathed. I fancied living across the border in Juarez - but, Juarez has become a dead museum. After the ravagement of the cartel, the town is a burned out cinder. All the wondrous locals of yore are gone and the old gal has lost her appeal to me. Plus, it - with it's sister city of El Paso - simply is just an ugly place to live.
Once again, my eye has turned to Tijuana. The notion of going there burns me, consumes me. Why don't I just pick up and go like I have done so many times before? Fear has been put in me. Fear of what I haven't the slightest idea. That is what confuses me. What has happened to me? Why do I dwell on the future so much? I need to stop this shit and worry about the now. Yet, as every manic-depressive schizo-effective on the planet can heartily state, "It's easier said than done."

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