text: # Hiding in a Dumpster Here I am, 26 and hiding in a dumpster. Chipped tooth, and I can’t even hold anything because I have no nails on my fingers. I manage to climb out of the trash by kicking the shutter open. The sky is dark and there are no stars to see, just smoke. It is eerily silent but for me the sound is as peaceful as the ocean. I have a 3-hour window to find another dumpster to call home and force myself to eat something. The breakfast is going to be from the dumpster’s menu which can have a ton of rotten vegetables and fruits or it can be a few drops of juice from a crushed juice box. A few months go by and an upset stomach is the least of my concern. One positive thing about living in dumpsters is that I don’t need to find a toilet. I AM THE TOILET. I accept my reality because what else is there to accept. All I have to do is focus on a goal and for me that goal is skipping from one dumpster to another. Each dumpster is like a treasure box for me. Some dumpsters allow me to get some personal space. Some dumpsters seem inviting but have shards of broken glass hiding beneath them. And some dumpsters are always full. But they always have food and a zoo of miniature animals called cockroaches who used to seem scary to me but they do nothing but tickle your skin from time to time. They are like the butterflies of the dumpster world. I would say dumpsters are like people but no dumpster has ever betrayed me like people have. I have finally found peace. My life is externally disgusting, smelly, infectious, vile, chaotic but from the inside I have never been happier. Once I lost all my ego of being a human and considering myself better from insects or wild animals because I can solve math equations, I was able to adapt myself to live in any condition to fulfil my basic needs- food, water and a shelter. These accommodations seem unnatural to people but this is the norm for me now. I am trapped inside a mind which does not discriminate. I am trapped inside a mind which tells me I don’t deserve better than anyone. I am trapped inside a mind which has finished the last trace of my pride. I am just another organism occupying space somewhere which is allowed to contain things like me. The concept of me being the "Centre Of The Universe" had to end to adapt to this new life of living in dumpsters. Money didn’t buy me happiness but letting go of the daily routine of fitting in and acting like a cog in the wheel of society has brought me peace. Maybe I will live like this when I am ready to perform once again. But until then, I will rest in my garden of trash.