I don’t stand out in a crowd. On the bus I’m just another bored passenger trying to get somewhere. At the grocery store I get the usual food \u2013 bread and meat and potatoes \u2013 what we all buy. In nice weather I ride my bicycle; in the winter I slog through the snow like everyone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
Sometimes I’ll hang out with you. I’ll join in the conversation, talk about the news or weather or some celebrity. Until the talk turns to the forsaken: the mentally ill, the homeless, the addict. Then it’s no longer fun for me. That’s me you’re talking about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You say such hurtful things: we should pull ourselves together; “just say no” to drugs; get a job. We could do it if we really wanted to. We’re just weak, lazy, worthless parasites.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I listen in silence. I don’t belong here. You so easily sneer and laugh at who I am. You\u2019d be shocked to learn that I was homeless; that I’m mentally ill and an addict. I don’t look the part. I look like a regular guy. But here I am, one of your worthless parasites, sitting right next to you \u2013 and you never even knew.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I could tell you how it really is. I could explain why we don’t get our act together, get off the streets. Would you listen? The truth would be an unwelcome intruder; I don’t have strength to speak it tonight. I slink off, defeated, leaving you to laugh at the forsaken. You don’t know it, but that’s me you’re talking about.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I don’t stand out in a crowd. On the bus I’m just another bored passenger trying to get somewhere. At the grocery store I get the usual food \u2013 bread and meat and potatoes \u2013 what we all buy. In … Continue reading