The Colorado Dream
May. 11th, 2019 12:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elise_rashaI want to move to Colorado. Recently, I tried to do just that with only $100 to get me there and nowhere to sleep. Does this sound familiar, my friends? It should. I did the same thing in October 2014 when Divine Inspiration had me haring off to Seattle. I didn't stay in either place for very long. Indeed, my stays in Washington and Pennsylvania were longer than my stays in Louisiana and Colorado, Colorado by far being the briefest of them all.
And I admit that it's because a part of my situation hit me hard. Harder than what I could have imagined. The very real fear of everything I'd worked hard for going up in smoke due to my lack of preparedness staggered me. What I discovered in Colorado angered in me. Three homeless shelters on a first come, first serve basis for men and women. Homes available but some that won't take housing vouchers and other homes empty because the marijuana industry is snapping up empty homes because it's cheaper to grow the plants that way (something I learned from a friend of mine after I'd returned to Tulsa). And this whole concept just baffles me because, after the legalization of recreational marijuana, Colorado experienced a surplus in its budget from the taxes gained on the sales. Residents, according to a former co-worker who has a sister living there, received a healthy state tax return for once, and the state still had a surplus. States like Washington and Colorado should have better programs in place for the homeless than trying to stick to the model of "business as usual". It isn't working for those trying to have a better life. It isn't working anywhere.
I admit, I still long to be in Colorado, but I plan on being better prepared the next time. I felt things there that I haven't felt in a long, long time. I dream of that homestead, of the country life, of life under skies so dark, you can feel what our ancestors once felt. There was such magic there. I opened up my Viking music playlist and ideas for a novel I'd thought of a few years ago just flowed through me like a movie trailer. There is no greater joy in knowing where you're meant to be for a small part of this thing we call life.
I dream of Colorado still. I dream of that green life, that amazing life, even as other dreams filter in and out of my brain. I dream of a small goat pen, chickens, dogs, and cats roaming around the yard, with a couple of children at play, of a legacy that only I can create.
The witch is in.
And I admit that it's because a part of my situation hit me hard. Harder than what I could have imagined. The very real fear of everything I'd worked hard for going up in smoke due to my lack of preparedness staggered me. What I discovered in Colorado angered in me. Three homeless shelters on a first come, first serve basis for men and women. Homes available but some that won't take housing vouchers and other homes empty because the marijuana industry is snapping up empty homes because it's cheaper to grow the plants that way (something I learned from a friend of mine after I'd returned to Tulsa). And this whole concept just baffles me because, after the legalization of recreational marijuana, Colorado experienced a surplus in its budget from the taxes gained on the sales. Residents, according to a former co-worker who has a sister living there, received a healthy state tax return for once, and the state still had a surplus. States like Washington and Colorado should have better programs in place for the homeless than trying to stick to the model of "business as usual". It isn't working for those trying to have a better life. It isn't working anywhere.
I admit, I still long to be in Colorado, but I plan on being better prepared the next time. I felt things there that I haven't felt in a long, long time. I dream of that homestead, of the country life, of life under skies so dark, you can feel what our ancestors once felt. There was such magic there. I opened up my Viking music playlist and ideas for a novel I'd thought of a few years ago just flowed through me like a movie trailer. There is no greater joy in knowing where you're meant to be for a small part of this thing we call life.
I dream of Colorado still. I dream of that green life, that amazing life, even as other dreams filter in and out of my brain. I dream of a small goat pen, chickens, dogs, and cats roaming around the yard, with a couple of children at play, of a legacy that only I can create.
The witch is in.
