Some times bad luck can be good I once heard, but I hardly ever thought that it might be true. But this morning I was not concerned with philosophy, my only concern was survival. I might live in the slums, and keep to my self, but apparently anti-SCAB's groups don't just attack SCAB's they find, they find SCAB's to attack. What a wake up call, the sound of you home being flipped over. Of course the chanting of "Kill the SCAB" and "No More SCAB's" sort of woke me up. Have you ever ran for you life? I mean ran because if you did not you would die? Well trust me it's not pleasant. I ran faster than I ever ran in my life, the fire bomb that was thrown at me really helped. I never realized my car actually had gas still in the tank, my car blew up! But that really was not my concern this morning, my concern was escape. Why do hate groups always travel in packs? Why not one or two, no always ten or more. I really can't say I was in danger long, after all I can run fast and I'm nimble enough to do a back flip off a fire escape. Boy that fence saved me a lot of pain.

Have you ever been at a point in your life where you couldn't go back but had no where ahead of you? I felt that way this morning, but lucky for me I remembered a place, West Street Shelter. I can't say the neighborhood was much of an improvement, but the shelter is much better than where I was. It's actually warm, there's a real bed, and real food. I guess in a way my bad luck at having lost my home was a good thing, after all the shelter is much better than sleeping in a car.

I've always assumed that none one at The Blind Pig knew me, but you know something I am very wrong. It turns out someone does know me, and she knows everyone else. Raven Blackmane, she knows who I am. It's quite a shock to have someone I barely know come up and say "Hey Xander, you ok? Splendor told me what happened, your not hurt are you?". I nearly had a kitten, Raven knew my name, she was concerned for me. But that wasn't the end, more people kept saying they heard about my car, Raven had told them. I actually had people call me by name. Suddenly I was involved with the lives of others, even if it was only in a small way. I was asked why I kept to my self, asked about my past, and told things. I could get my identity back, I could get all my degrees back. It was enough to make me faint. Now rather than making up lies to distance my self, I actually said things that made sense.

Bad luck can be good, or so I have heard. I never would I believe someone if they had told me that this morning my home would be totaled and it would be a good thing. But it was, I almost want to thank the hateful people who attacked me, almost. I really didn't lose that much considering all I have. My personal belongings are always with me, all I really lost was my 2 pairs or pants, 4 pairs of underwear, my shirt, none of which a wore anymore, and my car which was junk anyway. I even managed to snag my pillow and blanket, after all I was asleep when I was attacked. Now I find I can get back some of the things I lost. My family had kept my belongings in a storage locker, and kept them there. I was told a blood test can prove who I am, if my blood has not changed that much. If I get my identity back first thing I'll do is smash that tomb stone that marks my "grave" and dig up my coffin and get out any personal items of mine in side. Bad luck can be good, as I now believe, and man o man am I glad I had this run of bad luck.

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