I’m stuck at the red light on 4th street across from the shelter. I try not to stare at the men shivering in the afternoon rain. Instead, I think about my wife at home with the fragrance of happiness in her hair, my comfortable chair and how good my bed will feel even though its mattress refuses to grow accustomed to my body’s shape. I don’t want to think about these old men and their soup kitchen dinner, or the newspaper blankets that they’ll use to shelter them from the cold. I only think…I wish this damn light would change.
That last sentence hits hard.
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We need to remember that it is a long hard struggle to reach the top but we can fall to the bottom in the blink of an eye.
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Totally. Been there, had that blink. Sometimes I still can’t believe I’m alive and have somewhere stable and secure to call home. I think a lot of the time people struggle to accept that everything can fall apart no matter how hard you work or how together you have your shit because it’s too scary to cope with the understanding that there aren’t always safety nets and the world is full of gigantic cracks that anymoe can fall through at any time by quirk of circumstance.
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I am from an extremely large country family (14 brothers and sisters) so my entire childhood hovered on that edge. I try my best to never look down my nose at anyone. What’s that old saying, “There but for the grace of God go I.”
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Excruciating
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Thanks for stopping(pun intended) by Derrick.
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