Come what may, August 1st marks the eighth year of my life here in Los Angeles.
All things considered, if I were to be handed a set of keys that opened the door to an apartment and found what had been so rudely and wrongfully taken from me, I would think, "Okay, here is an honest attempt, an olive branch," and I could move forward with my life.
To me, this would be justice because it would mean that the change in my life's course was a holistic one, which is the most vital and universally rewarding kind of change because it reaches deeper than merely alleviating symptoms.
I know I have stated this before, yet it is critical that I make this point absolutely clear: the real issue here is not just that I was illegally evicted; it is that I am the latest individual being held accountable for a series of frauds, counterfeit identities, and bureaucratic paper shuffling that run deep into the very soul of the ground we walk upon.
What has been most difficult for me in the past two years of homelessness is the tension between paying attention to my own need for productivity, and therefore self-sustainability, and the need to rise above the truly horrific ordeal I have faced. It has always been my objective to overcome it through my own efforts. I have been extremely productive with my time under conditions far less suitable for the work I do.
Given the narrowing of my options, and that I have reached the limits of my ability to compromise my physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being any further, the moment a single step of my self-advocacy is walked back, potential years of my life are lost.
And in this crime I will NOT be complicit.
Log in or sign up for Devpost to join the conversation.