In The Life Of A Homeless Man That Went From Rags To Riches. (Part 1 - The Intro)

You know... It still marvels me to see how basic humans really are once you've broken them out of a "man-made" social structure called society. I first became homeless at 16 when I moved to the United States to live with my father, who created a brand new family and invited me into a very Cinderella style scenario.

I was raised in Ireland by my grandparents and was not liked much by my fathers new wife. With a combination of her whispers into his ears and mine and his differences in religious beliefs, I was quickly discarded out into the streets where I grew to understand a sink or swim mentality. I was still going through high school, so I went to the only place I knew to go to... My schools counselors. There, they enrolled me into a city program that found me an apartment to live in. They would co-sign for me, pay my first months rent, and find me donated items to fill up my new apartment with, however, I was still responsible for keeping up with the rent. I miraculously survived my high school years taking care of myself, riding buses, working at Denny's, only to join the ARMY soon after. It was a struggle that I have grown to love, because that was just a taste of what was coming.

After the ARMY, I had nothing. Maybe some benefits to jump into school, 2 bags of clothes, 1 guitar, and a heart full of depression. It was at this point that I hit rock bottom. I let my depression spiral out of control till I found myself doing drugs like cocaine, which only caused my life to seem that much more smaller. I carelessly slopped through life in self hatred and of course, homeless. I managed to blow right through the little savings I accumulated while in the ARMY till I was on my last $200. The feeling of suicide started creeping in closer and closer with every dollar I blew on either alcohol or cocaine, until one day I heard a song from my childhood back in Ireland called "The Fields of Athenry".

! ["The Fields of Athenry" ] (

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Instantaneously I began to think of my grandparents who raised me, and how they didn't raise the failing twat I allowed myself to become. I quickly felt regret that I had allowed so much self-loathing to dictate my life till the point of suicide. It was a literal 180 degree turn around that formulated the craziest thought I have ever musterd up. I grabbed my 2 bags, grabbed my guitar and with my last $176 I went to the greyhound station and asked "When is the next bus to Los Angeles, California?" The front desk lady looked at me like I was crazy, informed me it was $100 and left at 2 in the mornin. And just like that, I was destined to go to LA knowing not a soul, and going with merely my wits, 2 bags of clothes, a guitar and now $76 dollars left in mi ass pocket. I figured, I was either going to go 110 mph and make something of miself, or i would wither away into non-existence. Knowing the man I am that has learned to grow in life through fire and anger, I knew I could never fail. Because once a man has hit literal rock bottom and is tasting the very ground that he should be running on, there is no where to go for him, but up!

I got to LA, found a homeless shelter, took a shower, put on my best dress clothes and made my way to the library to develop a resume that would flip my shit life into one that has meaning and success. I remember I hadn't eaten in like 2 days by this point to save my money for what mattered. Printing resumes and bus fairs. I was on fire with an immense amount of anger that burnt through me like an inferno that was ready to demolish the world with one fucking blow. I learned to utilize this very anger to plow right through the hardest part of my life that I had ever faced. See, there is something about the mere simplicity of not eating and growing hungry in a literal sense that has a direct effect on your figurative side of hunger, as well. I searched for days and days till I finally got a bite at an Aerospace company. The owner loved his military veterans, so he offered me a position in his shipping and receiving section. Coming from a shipping and receiving style job in the military, i fit like a glove. I lied about my address and gave them an address to a home that I knew their mailbox was outside in case they sent me anything. I worked for about 2 weeks, surviving on crackers and water, till I finally got my first paycheck. And, what did I do with it, you ask?.......

....I saved it and kept my routine of eating crackers and water, showering with the beach walk showers, and broke a few bills to do laundry at a laundry mat by my work. I kept all of my items hidden under a bridge near the canal. I walked everywhere and listened to music through all of the blood sweat and tears.

Check Back Tomorrow For: (Part 2)