It’s because of the tiny low flying Japanese aircraft with rays that are shot into your head, the rays going into your brain, and DNA to ethnically cleanse you!
There are people we can not help. And those that we can. Not everyone wants help and not everyone can accept help.
With Mental Awareness week rapidly coming to a close, I wanted to share quick stories of 3 individuals from my trip to Vermont. As of 2019, there were almost 1100 homeless in Vermont with most living in the northern area of Burlington. 3 individuals who are greatly affected by mental health struggles. (More detailed stories will be shared with members of the Patreon page.)
Meeting Jeremy, Patricia, and Tom. When meeting anyone, be that on the street, in a park, or in a business meeting, it’s not my place (it’s not anyone’s place) to judge how their life brought them to that place.
Anyway, yes, these three individuals. These three humans no less – no more than you or I.
I drove by Battery Park a few times while I was helping others. Every time I rolled by I looked toward the park, left over tents from the BLM protests, a handful of individuals in the park. Some homeless some not. Piles of what is now garbage. Parking was tough to find near the park, let alone parking for a giant box on wheels (the RV). On a side street I finally found an area to pull the box over.
Grabbing a backpack, I filled it with 6 bags of food, toothbrushes, and some other smaller items. As I walked to the park, I wasn’t welcome with what I thought I would be. To the right, a group of college students working to clean up the park. To the left, a tent that has become home for a man and Tina The Turkey. (he preferred to only talk about Tina the Turkey) And in the middle, Jeremy.
Jeremy was surrounded by 3 officers. He was VERY upset, not drunk, not high. Simply upset. Very upset. Yelling, arms in the air, and attacking the tree which he was attempting to sit under.
How this whole situation escalated I’m not sure.
What I am sure of, is that the officers were working hard to de-escalate the situation. Jeremy wanting very little to do with any de-escalation at all. Fueled by a group of men talking loud from across the park making the situation worse. Jeremy thinking they were talking about him, he rips his shirt off, grabs a stick and starts walking toward them “I am going to kill them, I’m going to kill them mother fuckers!!!”
I don’t, for a moment, believe that he was kidding. As he walked faster, the officers walked faster and with a single touch on his shoulder, and quietly saying “Jeremy, we are right here for you” the officer brought him back down to a level of communicating. This went on for some time, about 45 minutes, and not for a single minute did the officers lose control of the situation. Instead working to keep Jeremy safe.
Jeremy puts his shirt back on and sits down. Everything seems to have subsided just as quickly as it erupted. Jeremy sits down, the officers walk away back to the police station (the building you can see the roof of to the right in the photo above). And he is left, with no help once again. A system that has failed to truly help Jeremy more than stopping a situation. A man who needs the help of a DR. possibly (probably) medication, and direction.
As Jeremy got up, walking toward the area where I sat. He looks at me and of course, I couldn’t not reach out. Asking if he wanted food (he denied any other help from the officers). “Who the fuck are you”… “I’m Tim”…. “oh, okay, I didn’t know who you were”…..
“What’s in the bag?” I run down the list, orange juice, bars, banana, sandwich etc….
“NO! I only want pizza. Hot Pizza!” he storms off and begins yelling at the college students “Get me dominos pizza right now!!!”. I think the students seem to know Jeremy as they don’t even raise an eyebrow. Nor do they order pizza.
Early Monday morning I drove down the road toward the lake, I was going to take Blue for a walk at a park I heard of. At the intersection, was a man. Sign in hand, as I was rolling in from the opposite direction I wasn’t sure of what it said but I pulled over. Jumping out of my box “Do you need some food or help?”
He just about jumped across the intersection. Arms in the air, a quick spin in the middle of the road he comes over and with a big smile simply says “anything will help me through the day”.
Meet Tom. Tom had a look of such kindness in his eyes. With his white dreads and his blue eyes. He simply looks kind. So kind.
Handing him a filled bag, he reaches in and grabs the orange juice and in an instant, it’s gone. (I gave him another to keep for later). Tom’s needs aren’t quite as apparent as Jeremy’s nor Patricia who you will hear about below. None the less, he is on the streets because he mentally has struggles which hold him back from falling into line with society. The good about Tom, he is allowed to sleep in his brother’s shed and garage and does have a bed to sleep in every night. I asked why he isn’t sleeping inside, “My brother’s wife doesn’t like me”….
Tom has been on the street for years, the city not helping him with his mental needs, medication or services.
“Tim, you go down the street, turn around and when you come back, I’ll be here and you take my picture in my spot”
He had an idea and plan so I did just that. When I came back around he was waving and smiling and gosh darn it, I wanted to just jump out and give this man a hug.
From there, I went down to the park and walked Blue. We jumped back in the box and drove toward the center of the city. Making it maybe a mile or two, there on the bench, with a cart packed with everything she might need, was Patricia.
I turned around and pulled over. A look of concern and suspicion on her face. I introduced myself and what I was doing. Bag of food in hand.
“I’m now allowed to accept anything, the higher powers won’t let me because it may be a new way to ethnically cleanse me”
Let’s be honest, I sort of kind of really had no idea what she was talking about. “Can I grab my camera for a photo and do you want to share your story?”
I grabbed my camera out of the RV, coming back out she has put what I thought was a VERY interesting hat. It wasn’t a hat at all.
I grabbed a couple photos and sat on the bench near by as I listened.
The story went like this.
28 (also 34) of my family members have been killed. They are ethnically cleansing us. They want us to be gone, our memories erased and our minds empty. That’s why I have to wear my helmet. (it legit was a helmet, a helmet wrapped in duct tape and foil and then a hat stretched over it)
Yesterday alone they tried to shoot rays into my brain to ethnically cleanse me. 75 times yesterday, they flew near me and did this. But they didn’t get me.
And this low flying Japanese mini-aircraft was created from a patent that I created and they stole. Now it’s being used against me. This is how I know what to do. But they are killing everyone else. They have killed everyone else.
There was more to the story which will be shared to the Patreon page. This conversation went on for about 30 minutes. Patricia though, she isn’t homeless. She told me this. “I’m not homeless, I began choosing to live outside 12 winters ago”. This makes me question if she actually has millions in the bank.
So why am I sharing these three stories to really start things off? Especially when I wasn’t even able to materialistically help two of the three?
I begin here because I feel, while we are ending mental health awareness week, that our system is letting so SOOO many individuals down. Individuals who may need just a little, or maybe need a lot of help. Help though, is something they are not totally getting. At least not to the point they may need.
If they can have “meth clinics”, why can’t we have clinics where individuals such as Jeremy, Tom, and Patricia can go each morning to just pick up needed medications? Maybe they wouldn’t even take advantage of it. Buy maybe they would?
“As of January 2019, Vermont had an estimated 1,089 experiencing homelessness on any given day, as reported by Continuums of Care to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD).”