Have you ever had a real conversation with a homeless person?

I try to really talk to homeless people sometimes, the stories are always interesting.

I met a guy once that had a lab coat under his overcoat, he said he wanted to focus on finding the meaning of life.

 

No they've all been fake as far as I can tell.

 

nope


and I dont pick up hitchhikers or buy pencils from fake deaf people either

 

No, I avoid homeless people because they smell and keep asking me for spare change.

 

i once met a homeless guy who could imitate the voice of several people...

it was real fun, i didnt talked deeply with him though

 

Yes ive talked to homeless people many many times. Sometimes they are to drugged out and i leave, but sometimes they are good people who got a hard hand of cards to play with and things in life didnt go their way. Yes they made mistakes and they understand why they are on the streets but that doesn't make them a bad person.

When i was 21 and in college i was having a really bad week. I had re-taken my math class for the third time and it was one of the starting levels, so it crushed me that i couldnt get past the first hurdle. The friends i had at the time were not true friends. They were people that wanted my money, and i wanted there drugs, pretty simple and they were not someone that would be there for you if you were in trouble. So i was having a really bad day in paticular and everything in life was putting me down. I was walking home and was coming around the corner of the grocery store and needed to sit down. I started thinking and my thoughts almost put me in tears. The depression i was going through was dangerous.

As i was sitting there i heard some voices and three grown men walked around the corner. One of them was black, his skin tone was very dark, even for a black person, with the greyest hair ive every seen on a black man. It was awesome looking though, lol, he was at least 6"3 and on the thinner side. The 2nd guy to my knowledge at the time was on something but i didnt know what. He was also wearin camo cloths and everything about him made me think of a war vet, which i later for out he was, from vietnam. He was mumbling to himself and went strait out into the parkling lot to piss behind a truck. The third guy came around the corner and looked just like santa clause. White hair, white beard, over-weight, with broken glasses. I watched them for a couple of minutes then when back to my way of looking at the ground thinking.

All of the sudden someone from behind me was tapping me on the sholder. It was the black guy. He asked why i looked so down and what was going on. I didnt know what to think for a second because i felt, why would he care? Some random kid sitting on the corner not happy with life? Loads of people are looking the same. Well i told him what i mentioned in the first paragraph about school and the few to none friends i had at the time. He sat down next to me and we started talking, before i knew it he was giving me life advice. His name was Ron. When i looked into his eyes, they were the darkest ive ever seen. Both of his eyes were so dark, you could not see any sign of a pupil, his eyes were like holes into his head, plus his ghost white hair. Its strange to say but in all honesty when i looked back on what happend this day, thw words Ron gave me, with his eyes and hair, made me think of an Angel of some kind.

His adive for every question i threw at him was very logical, philosophical, warm-hearted, and when Ron spoke, if i looked away, he would walk around in front of me and make sure we had eye contact, so that he knew i was understanding what he was talking about. It was very strange to say the least. The other two men were nodding what he said and didnt say much. Looking back its like i was talking with the three wise men. ^^

Ron said my problem was i was not getting on my knees and asking for help from my inner heart. That i had everything i would ever need in life and that i was expecting too much out of a situation. It was brilliant really. He pulled out his wallent and handed me a card that would be the size of a typical business card, and it shows jesus in a white robe holding onto a man in casucal cloths that someone would be wearing in this day and age, with scriptures written on the back. He wanted me to have it and i still keep it in my wallet to this day. Im not a religious person by any means but the spirituality of it has made me hold onto it. Also i dont want to ever forget that day.

Eventually the guy in the camo said "man i could sure go for a lunch beer right now" i said, hey im 21 now ill go buy ya a beer, lets head to the cornor store on such and such street. So we grabbed out stuff and started walking. As we walked to the store it was me and Ron up front, i as still getting life advice, with the other two behind us, and they would not talk!

When we got to the store i walked in and grabbed 4 Joose beers. Nasty shit that gets you fucked with with the % they have. The guy at the counter didn't want to allow me to buy it because he thought i was buying for someone outside. Ron walked in, stepped in front of me, i forget what he said, but all he did was ask the clerk a few questions, i know one of the was regarding how he could ever prove who i was buying the drinks for, but he said something.... and the clerk was like...whatever ok, here you go. Just strange all around.

We wakled outside and down the block and started to drink our beers lol. I asked Ron why he was living on the streets with the vast knowledge he had. He never told me why he was on the streets but he told me what put him here. His mother was a crazy mad woman and one night when he was 13 or 14 she pulled a kitchen knife on him and threatned his life. He got away, ran into his room, grabbing with little things he had, opened the door with his mother waiting for him, and ran out of the house never to return. He was from the east coast and made it to the west side. He said even though he didnt have a strong realsionship with his mother, and he never saw her again once he left the house, he still to this day loves her, and forgives her for any wrong doing.

From the start of when i met Ron tell the time i was going to say good buy we spent most of the day together, with his two friends following us. He gave me a phone number i could reach him at, but it was no guarantee. He gave me a hug and honestly i never wanted to let go of him. We went out ways and as i was walking home i got teary eyed from what happened the last couple of hours, those teary eyes all of the sudden made me very happy. I felt great the rest of the day. I went home, drank some drinks and played video games online, and felt awesome.

A few weeks later i tried calling the number, but it just rang and rang and i never spoke to Ron again. Though i will always hold onto the jesus card he gave me and will never forget how i felt when he spoke. He a small way it gave me a lot of faith.

After that day i looked at all homeless very differently. Because the last time i talked to one, it was a day i will never forget.

 

What you mean by fake ?

 

One time I went to Syracuse and my three friends were all busy - two of them had to visit a college and one had to go to class, so I couldn't stay at his house while he was gone because his parents hated me. (I'm going to take the time to say wow, I'm really high and these word all look squished.) Anyway, he dropped me off in the city by Starbucks, and I sat out there for 3 hours straight, next to this big black guy in a wheelchair that I will never forget. He was jingling a can, calling everyone "big poppa" and "lil' momma" for 3 hours striaght. I eventually got to talking to him, after giving him some change. He was an interesting and nice guy who did this every day for 8 hours straight. He had an entire schedule of where he would go at what time. He was nice, but I eventually took off and left it at that. I won't forget that guy, he was a true American badass.

 

I was homeless myself for some months so I hang around places with the other homeless. There was a lot of action and things happening never got boring but after some months I couldnt stand normal people any more because they bored me to death...normal people doing boring normal stuff like sports or drinking alcool and just sitting around and talking about boring shit, no action...

 

Broony, thank you for sharing that. It goes to show us that if we slow down and really listen to someone there is much to learn. A lesson for all.

I really enjoyed reading about your experience.

 

My ex and I used to go to River Street in Savannah, Georgia every couple of weeks. It's a big tourist draw and during the day the homeless people are there trying to make a buck, playing music and making roses from palm fronds.

At night when the tourists are gone, for the price of a spare cigarette these homeless people will share the secrets of life with you.

When they appear out of the fog of the night and disappear back into it after having dropped a little wisdom on you, I'm like Broony; I tend to wonder if the veil between the dimensions wasn't lifted for a bit.

 

yes - i often do

i tell them earnestly to get off the smack and get a job.

 

Nope never through of it

 

Yes, I find a lot of a lot of stories fascinating. You have to be careful not to let them jerk you around. i try to keep what i give them to clothing and food items.

when i was in highschool and my parents made me go to church i went with a church group and made bag lunches for a group of homeless people that live under a bridge near dunwoody institute in Minneapolis. we sat there and talked with them for a few hours, it was really interesting.

there are a couple cool vets that hang out downtown St. Cloud that ive talked to.

 

Broony thanks for sharing that story with us.

 

I never did until one time when I went back to Cape Town. I hooked up with some of my old friends and we went out around town and met this old Zimbabwean woman. We thought it was great fun to have a conversation with her - but obviously laughing and taking the piss out of her. Eventually she snapped and started yelling at us about how she didn't need this shit, started sobbing, and screaming about how she's been fucked over by all the goings on in Zim and how she and her husband came to South Africa to just try and make ends meet.
Unfortunately there are fuckall jobs compared to the amount of homeless in SA, even before the Zimbabweans started moving over. This meant that the homeless South Africans were getting pissed off with all the immigrants and started getting hostile, and her husband ended up dead because of it.
No word of a lie, I have never felt so shit in my life. We attempted to make up for our bullshit and took her to the nearest shop and bought her a shite load of food, and one of my friends gave her a bag that he had in his car.

Since then, I try and speak to as many homeless as I can - even if it's just a hello. Anything that can brighten their day, and every now and then I get rid of a load of clothes and give them to homeless shelters to hand out.
It's worth giving them a benefit of a doubt that they aren't just fuckup addicts, and have genuinely been fucked over by the world.
That's also the reason I hardly ever drink anymore. I'd never even think of the shit we were saying sober, let alone say it to her face.

 

I've made it a point to try to befriend people wherever I go. I find it risky at times with the homeless, as several times I have been met with hostility, refusal to accept money, even when I try to do them a favor, like moving a car out of their way so that they have access with their cart to the nearby sidewalk. Last time I did that, I said "Is my car in your way? I'll move it." The guy answered in a gruff, threatening tone,,"Go on about your business!"

Sometimes I wonder, did they get homeless, and then act like that, or did acting like that cause them to become homeless?

 

Real easy to become bitter when the whole world takes a dump on you...... I'd say for the majority of the homeless the attitude came after they lost everything. Amazing to meet one that still has a positive outlook, but they exist too.

 

my uncle was homeless for a while, if that counts. He was schitzophrenic and also a pretty bad alcoholic. He was homeless because my grandmother was getting too old to handle him and he was unstable so my parents didn't want him living in our house with me. He lived in a tent in a tiny stretch of woods beside a major road, and my mom and I would go visit him every weekend, hang out at his tent for a while (as a kid, that was pretty cool to me) and bring him back to the house for dinner.

Homeless people are just normal people who, for various reasons including but not limited to mental instability, bad choices, and/or shitty luck, are not able to keep up with society. Some of them have families that just aren't able to help them. Some don't have families but all started out with families at one point.

Other than that, I once had a conversation with a homeless guy while I was coming up on shrooms. At the time he seemed like a mystical being to me, full of sorrow and infinite wisdom.

And there was this homeless guy that would buy college kids alcohol at my friend's school a few years ago. He would buy us liquor then share his poetry with us. He was a pretty talented poet and none of it was trite or cliche. It was all full of raw heartache.

edit: I just want to add that after my dad and grandma died my homeless uncle was the only person on that side of the family to keep in touch with us. The rest of the family dropped off the face of the earth and I haven't seen them since I was a kid. The remaining members of the family may be well-off, they may have homes and children and nice things, but the only member of the family that was worth a damn insomuch as just being a kind and caring person was the homeless uncle addicted to drugs and alcohol.

 

This is another reason to be thankful for what you have. We all take to many things for granted.