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