| A Squatter's TaleIt was cold. We kept marching, my | | | | the gods of this Universe, we would change |
| partner and I, through the December streets. The | | | | nothing.But this week, we were getting out of New |
| winter sky daunting us, seemingly motionless, as we | | | | England. I wish there were a way in literature for me to |
| continued our journey through this nightmare of | | | | explain how cold it was, by saying how cold my thumb |
| sensory affliction.It was cold. But it wasn't just cold. It | | | | felt as I tried to catch a ride for me and my lover, but I |
| was fucking cold. Feeling had departed from my | | | | couldn't -- that is, I couldn't feel my thumb. There was |
| fingers, my hands, my arms, my legs, my feet, my | | | | no blood going through it, no life left in it, no muscle with |
| face. The only part of my that was warm was the | | | | enough energy to move. There comes a point in |
| only part that seemed never to catch coldness: my | | | | human communication where some things cannot be |
| stomach. And when I had an itch to scratch there, I | | | | told. The nature of such pain denies them from being |
| reached to do what I had to do, and immediately | | | | learned, disallows them from being taught. This plague |
| ripped my arm out of my shirt -- my fingers were so | | | | of dissension infects one victim, and he may speak of |
| cold, so numb with frost, that to bring them to my | | | | it for the rest of his days, but nobody will ever |
| stomach was to stir the worst of pains."There's no | | | | understand. He is alone, he will aways be alone, he will |
| way I'm ever fucking travelling to New England again," | | | | die alone. Nobody but his own conscience will be able |
| she said.We were a crew, a partnership. Squatters | | | | to offer a fair empathy. And so, in like fashion, Firefeet |
| come like that. Where there's one, there's more. If you | | | | and I march through these snowy dunes of New |
| find one squatter, their partner won't be far. More often | | | | England, heading south. In a way, no different than the |
| than not, their partner is also their lover. In our age of | | | | birds who migrate. Just a bit slower and willing to take |
| Materialism and Capitalism, some of us manage to | | | | a ride."Hey, Jesus," Firefeet said, "How much longer do |
| search through the debris of human intellect, and find | | | | you estimate till we catch a ride?""Well, it's about an |
| one person who drives us mad with passion. Time | | | | eternity between cars coming by," I said, "So, it should |
| passes, and you no longer consider them a person, but | | | | be any moment now.""It's fucking cold as shit," she said, |
| you consider yourselves as one person. And with | | | | her arms clasped and folded, shivering, like my |
| someone whose character is so powerful, why spend | | | | own."No, it's tropical," I said, trying to be cheery, "This |
| time working eight hours a day, just because slum | | | | snow is nothing but hot, spring rain.""That would seem |
| lords demand such a high rent? Why live in a house | | | | to almost make sense," she said, struggling with her |
| when you can simply live in each other's company, for | | | | impeded breath, "It's the cold that burns on my |
| ever? Consequently, the lack of desire for a house | | | | face.""At least with every step we take, we're one |
| coincided with our inability to work, and so we were | | | | step towards the south and one step towards |
| homeless, squatting, living in abandoned buildings when | | | | warmth," I said."There's only one part of me that's |
| we found them. These pairs, partnerships of the | | | | warm right now," she said, "And it's the part where |
| homeless, may be found wherever there are | | | | only you are allowed."I smiled into the faceless breach |
| squatters. And when a single squatter has no partner, | | | | of the oncoming snow, and spoke, "Then let's get |
| no travel comrade to make it through the dark nights | | | | some friction going so we can both warm up!"We |
| with them, they often form a clique around a | | | | marched, still, until Firefeet fell onto the snow. I turned to |
| partnership of squatters.My travel partner was | | | | her and wrapped my arm over her shoulder. "What's |
| Firefeet, but her real name was Lidia. She earned her | | | | wrong?" I said. She didn't respond. I tried to pull her up. |
| "street name" from the fact that she can't stay in one | | | | "Come on, get up, girl," I said.She started to cry, holding |
| place for more than a week. She would meet | | | | her arms buried in her chest. "I can't," she said, "I can't... I |
| someone, disappear from town for a month, and then | | | | can't move.""No," I disagreed, "We can make it through |
| be back. One squatter called her Firefeet, and it stuck. | | | | this. It's only just a few more steps before we're in |
| That's how names were given: on an impulse, and | | | | that tropical weather again. It'll be so hot, you can see |
| they stuck forever.I was known little more than Jesus. I | | | | steam rising up and out of the pavement. You'll be |
| once met another man who had the same name, but | | | | praying for a snow storm.""I'm going to die," she said |
| he was given it for a different reason than me: | | | | with a dying effort, her voice struggling.I leaned in closer |
| because he actually looked like the mythical god. The | | | | to her. "You remember that night in Seattle, where the |
| reason I received this name was because, at the sight | | | | temperature dipped down below ten degrees, and we |
| of street Evangelists, I would demonstrate a form of | | | | had no where to sleep and no blankets? Remember |
| sarcasm yet unseen in the history of mankind. "Oh, | | | | how we held each other in that alley way as we |
| praise the lord, Jesus, you saved me!" kneeling down, | | | | struggled to sleep, and you told me that we would be |
| and then perhaps making lewd comments, "God, my | | | | dead by morning, but we survived? Do you |
| poka-doted penis needs your healing touch!" Since | | | | remember?""But now is not like then," she said."Please, |
| squatters lived on the streets, we know everything | | | | Firefeet," I said, "Get up.""I can't," she said again, still |
| that can possibly go on on these streets: from | | | | crying."Please," I said, "I will do anything for you. Just get |
| picketers to annoying business salesmen, and we | | | | up."She sat there, unmoving, her body only shaking |
| have to deal with it, all the time. We have no place to | | | | now and then because of the tears. I leaned in closer |
| go. We are homeless. Though it would seem | | | | to her, kissed her on the ear, and said, "Don't die... We |
| reasonable, we cannot go back to our squats during | | | | have but the rest of our lives to be with each |
| day time. There is an off limits rule for returning to your | | | | other."And so, that night went on... Several hours past, |
| squat when there is still light out. Almost like an | | | | and we were gone. I never left her side. And there |
| unspoken rule in the mind of every smart squatter, it | | | | was nothing but several three-worded phrases |
| exists becasue police officers will bust squats only | | | | exchanged between us. The snow piled on, and we |
| during the day time. So, we are stuck in these cities, | | | | were only found next morning by the Connecticut |
| these bustling and booming places of industry, | | | | Sheriff's Department.In a very real way, we were |
| commerce, and politics, and in this huff-and-puff | | | | already dead. We had been living the lives of ghosts, |
| society, we still find ourselves the same place we | | | | drifting aimlessly. But what we had, what we found in |
| were last night: in the arms of our loved one, with | | | | each other, though it was not enough to last an |
| nothing but an unrelenting admiration of what things | | | | eternity, it was enough. Life, |
| may come.What is there to do that the poor may do? | | | | PunkerslutPunkerslut (or Andy Carloff) has been |
| Those who are moneyless have but one venture: | | | | writing essays and poetry on social issues which have |
| travel. So we hitch hiked, we walked, we trekked. | | | | caught his attention for several years. His website |
| Some days we would wake up, and wonder why we | | | | provides a complete list of all of these writings. His life |
| woke up in the state (or country) we did. Our blood | | | | experience includes homelessness, squating in New |
| warms, and slowly the memories of the previous night | | | | Orleans and LA, dropping out of high school, getting |
| flow into our head. But none of that matters, because | | | | expelled from college for "subversive activities," and a |
| we fell asleep in the same exact place we slept last | | | | myriad of other revolutionary actions. |
| night: beside the one who drives us crazy. If we were | | | | |