As a great fish swims between the banks of a river as it likes, so does the shining Self move between the states of dreaming and waking.
-Brihadaranyaka Upanishad
I don't know about this one.
http://thehomelessguy.blogspot.com/
He says he's never fit into a normal society, and he struggles with it on a daily basis. Man, I can appreciate that. The last time I checked, which is pretty much every morning I've woken up since second grade, I didn't fit in either. In fact, a lot of people don't fit in. Some people pick up guns, some drop out, and then others drop out completely by still going to a job they hate, everyday, to a job that doesn't really exist. And so, yeah, I admit it -- I still go to work.
I'm trying to remember what the problem is again.
I'm trying to be objective. He also says that homeless people tend to gravitate toward the library. Again, I have misled myself, moving all my possessions to a town with an unfulfilling job, where if I were to be homeless in this town, I'd be in no way able to concentrate on a weblog but would in fact be completely screwed. I have to read on to find out where he is geographically located. Relocation would not be a problem for me (especially if I didn't have to move my couch) and actually sounds quite groovy, very reminiscent of "free thinking", if I can live in a library all day versus hanging out on a corner and starving literally to death here, one way or the other.
Okay, which reminds me: yes, food. I'd love to have some right now, but I didn't bring my plastic-money today. I think there is a donut in the kitchen, but it's old. And eating a donut when you are hungry is like drinking sea-water when you are thirsty. It just makes it worse after the sugar-buzz wears off 30 minutes later.
Oh wait, we were talking about my unfullfilling crap: You see, the problem is that I have too much crap to keep up with in my life. That's right. Too many physical, personal possessions to carry with me. If I could give them away to someone, then I would. These possessions I have were someone else's idea, not mine. Like bank cards, cell phones, day-planning books to plan a day that I don't even own and don't have enough time for in the end. Having less should mean that I could live a livestyle that was more free, only clinging to several possessions like Grasshopper. Unfortunately, I need too many of them to exist properly.
Maybe not, though. I guess some people might be afraid to be honest and say how remarkably healthy the Homeless Guy looks. His skin alone has more of a glow than mine, and I'm supposedly years younger, and not homeless yet.
But you can't say that about a homeless person, right? Don't mind me, I'm just jealous. I'll just be forced to pay more to have less in life. Because I don't fit into what's considered normal society either. So I know my limitations. I'll come back to work tomorrow so I can have a home to go home to at night, to be rested up for the job that takes more than it gives.
And I'll give him that one: not having a place to stay at night is a bad scene. I know this, it's happened to me, too, for one reason or the other. You just either keep driving or you keep walking until the sun comes back up and then you really don't feel homeless anymore. At least not for 12 or so hours until you have to go back to sleep somewhere.
If I was him, I'd hide in the library at night. I'd steal a toothbrush and some toothpaste, soap and shampoo -- unless someone donated some to me, the perceived less-fortunate -- and I'd hide in the library bookstacks until lights-out.
But for now, for me: I am very still, sitting here with a life-sucking job and a home where I left my plastic-money, yet still hungry in more ways than one. Reading about a guy who has no home, yet spends all his days at the library, reading and writing. He wishes for the simple things, like having a home of his own. So do I. What seems to be worse is to have a job and still not be able to afford a home. Financially or mentally. "Who knows if today might be my last day here? Where will I go tomorrow if I get downsized, again?" And at this particular moment, I am really hungry and wondering what else I can pilfer from the Freezer Graveyard here at work besides the ice-encrusted microwave dinner I ate for lunch.
No pension plans, no increase in pay, no job security. Just frozen food left by employees and interns past. Not knowing it was their last day or maybe, just not caring.
These were people who fit into society better than the other before them or after. Or maybe they just seemed to fit in.
I just realized that I am the Job-less Girl. Stuck in a job that I never wanted, but had to have to live in a world that's not quite right. But that doesn't sound as bad as being homeless, does it. But it is similar -- not knowing what's going to happen to you day after day. Not filling your head with any knowledge or eduction as the hours slip by. And having to expend whatever creative energy you might have left on a life or a job you may not have next week, and definitely a job you never really wanted but had to have so you could have too much to keep up with in the end, and a job that won't get you any further along in a career than where you are today.
That is weird. Why do I do it? To have less direction in life than a homeless guy.
I wonder of he'd trade places with me. It seems abnormal to me that he would.
Besides, I'd miss my couch. I just need to find another job.
ps: I found some ramen noodles and rehydrated them. jackpot!
