This is a photo of Randy’s shed raging in flames. This happened yesterday, I believe:
It was located on the Church of the Nomadic Spirit land (probably 20 feet from where Hermaine was shot and killed). He used it to store bicycles.
I wasn’t there when the fire happened. In fact, no one even mentioned it to me. It was just another day in homeless hell. I saw it on Facebook.
From what I’m hearing, someone started the fire. That is not surprising.
Here’s a picture of when a woman burnt down our porta-potties:
That’s Jim Nolan staring at it in disbelief.
Here’s Dustin standing by what was left of his tent that someone burnt down:
A man once built these amazing tiny homes for homeless people. They all were eventually burned down out of jealousy by other people who didn’t get one.
All of these arsons are stories of people who have been wronged and can’t take it any more.
I recently heard a person say, “Fuck it. If they are going to steal all my shit, I’m just going to steal their shit.”
I asked him whose stuff he was going to steal. He said: “Everyone’s!”
I had a gas-powered motorbike built and ready to sell last week. It was stolen out of my truck.
What are we to do?
The street radicalizes these people. The terror, anguish, betrayal, brutality, and torture of the street turn these people more and more feral. They become more wild the more they are left alone in the wild.
I have nothing to offer. I have no solutions. I have no answers. (My answers are entirely ignored by anyone who would let me try my solutions. So my answers might as well not exist.)
All I have is love, understanding, and acceptance.
I’ll probably get some new pressure from the city for this.
“Stop caring for these people, Sage.”
“Stop letting them come around you, Sage.”
“Make them go away, Sage.”
That will never happen. I will never give up on these people.
We are ALL part of the community. All of us!
I will never quit.
Sage