May 2017
Life is a disgusting entanglement of shameless moments
Who are we to be happy?
Have you ever looked into the eyes of a weathered old man at the traffic light?
Drenched in life
Dirt smeared on his very being
Not knowing where or when or what will sustain him next
Bones poking out of his skin as if he is already dead to the world
He might as well be.
Who are we to be happy?
Have you ever looked into the eyes of a little girl standing on the side of the road begging for anything.
Literally anything
Hands out
Shame in
The fight for survival should not be a priority of a 6 year old
Yet the corner of the road is her classroom
Where she learns of:
The many different ways people say no
The many different ways people ignore her
The many different ways to be rejected of the most basic needs in life:
Food
Shelter
Love
So the next time you teach your children the basic needs of a human
Think of that 6 year old
I believe that life is a bunch of choices
I believe that everyone should work for what they get in life
But that is an ideal
And the world is not an ideal place.
To be stuck between a rock and a hard place
to be an enabler of the broken and homeless...but not the helpless.
There is a saying "where there's a will there is a way"
But the operative word being "will" and for some it is a long way away from their reach.
"Excuses
They have all their limbs
They are able to work"
This is true
But it is an ideal
And this world is not an ideal place.
I am not naive
I know how the world works
I know that you work for what you get and who are they to get anything for not working?
But for some, just being alive is work.
We know not of their internal struggles
And come to think of it, people with degrees, clean clothes and a roof over their heads cannot get jobs
What are the chances for the road wanderers?
Some way or the other we are affected by the old man's weathered hands and the little girl's lost eyes. But when our weekends arrive we dance away the daylight that has stained our eyes and shake off any dark imaginings that do not align with the present atmosphere.
Because that's how life is. Very few of us take in moments and let them stain us.
Sometimes when I laugh amongst friends in a crowded bundle of night life;
I remember them
So vividly
Do they ever laugh the way I do, and will they ever?
For me, that is the saddest and most purest moment of grief I have for this world.
And in that moment I feel a pull of emotions.
And guilt consumes me.
And in that moment I question myself
Who am I to be happy when the suffering around me pours through from every angle of life?
Who are we to be happy?
Have you ever looked into the eyes of a weathered old man at the traffic light?
Drenched in life
Dirt smeared on his very being
Not knowing where or when or what will sustain him next
Bones poking out of his skin as if he is already dead to the world
He might as well be.
Who are we to be happy?
Have you ever looked into the eyes of a little girl standing on the side of the road begging for anything.
Literally anything
Hands out
Shame in
The fight for survival should not be a priority of a 6 year old
Yet the corner of the road is her classroom
Where she learns of:
The many different ways people say no
The many different ways people ignore her
The many different ways to be rejected of the most basic needs in life:
Food
Shelter
Love
So the next time you teach your children the basic needs of a human
Think of that 6 year old
I believe that life is a bunch of choices
I believe that everyone should work for what they get in life
But that is an ideal
And the world is not an ideal place.
To be stuck between a rock and a hard place
to be an enabler of the broken and homeless...but not the helpless.
There is a saying "where there's a will there is a way"
But the operative word being "will" and for some it is a long way away from their reach.
"Excuses
They have all their limbs
They are able to work"
This is true
But it is an ideal
And this world is not an ideal place.
I am not naive
I know how the world works
I know that you work for what you get and who are they to get anything for not working?
But for some, just being alive is work.
We know not of their internal struggles
And come to think of it, people with degrees, clean clothes and a roof over their heads cannot get jobs
What are the chances for the road wanderers?
Some way or the other we are affected by the old man's weathered hands and the little girl's lost eyes. But when our weekends arrive we dance away the daylight that has stained our eyes and shake off any dark imaginings that do not align with the present atmosphere.
Because that's how life is. Very few of us take in moments and let them stain us.
Sometimes when I laugh amongst friends in a crowded bundle of night life;
I remember them
So vividly
Do they ever laugh the way I do, and will they ever?
For me, that is the saddest and most purest moment of grief I have for this world.
And in that moment I feel a pull of emotions.
And guilt consumes me.
And in that moment I question myself
Who am I to be happy when the suffering around me pours through from every angle of life?
