Grease is... GONE?

If you follow my blog religiously. I know a couple of you DO (and I am most grateful, like for real, that's insanely cool!) then you know of my homeless neighbor across the street with his awesome 90s rock music and drunken racist behavior. A true Jekyll and Hyde of the streets of Venice.

Before I knew of his racist destructive nature, I was charmed by the homeless man who would greet every passer-by with a 'Happy Monday!', would sweep around his tent every day, and played  songs from 'Grease' on his first night in the block. But sadly, the charm was replaced with disgust when I heard his racist, sexist and homophobic slurs during the protests following George Floyd's murder. He also turned from a relatively neat homeless man, to a total shit show (pardon my French) and his area which now included several tents and random furniture items looked more and more like a junk yard. My feelings of compassion and care for the person living in the street, were changing quickly into feelings of fear for my safety as I noticed the violent fights he would have with other homeless people in the neighborhood. 

Well, I woke up today to a new reality. A reality WITHOUT the drunken racist across the street.
Apparently police had come yesterday following another violent dispute, and the guy MOVED somewhere else. Thus, leaving behind him all the junk he had accumulated and now it is occupied by ahem... NEW neighbors... 

I hope he finds peace wherever he is. (and um sobriety and for him to be less of a racist) and I realllllly hope my new neighbors will be better neighbors than he was.
It's a fucked up reality to live on the streets. (again - pardon my French. It's just this kind of a day I guess...) and it's also challenging entering my building every day not knowing who is lurking nearby and if I am safe from harm.
Every day is a balancing act. One of the many gifts 2020 had given us...