Week 4: I Hungry

On my first day in the capital city of Castries, I made a prediction.

Like Dr.Manhattan* sitting on Mars with a photograph in his hand, predicting the exact time in which the photograph will slide from the tips of his fingers into the sea of burning red sand, I let time slip between my finger tips while my ideas fell to the floor. 

Unlike Dr.Manhattan, I did not know the exact time in which my prediction would take place but I knew how it would play out. This is the closest I am going to get to being compared to a super hero, isn't it?

On my first day of work, I walked by a homeless man. Every time I walked by him - by myself or with my coworkers - he would simply say "I hungry" and hold out his hand.

Much like the people around me, I did not stop to acknowledge his existence, or to even simply look. I was much too proud and cowardly to do so. At that moment, I knew that time would erase his need to hold his hand out to me. 

To him, I was going to become another person who will walk on by. In a few weeks time, he will stop asking me. 

Have you ever experienced the presence of a stranger so often that you begin to expect them? They become like memories of old friends from long ago - the kind of people that are filled with faint ideas, their existence hard to trace with your mind yet they bring comfort with their presence despite their unfamiliarity. 

As time went on, his presence became more apparent to me and unknowingly, I would leave my work expecting to see this old man in all of his misery. Seeing him brought some kind of sickening comfort in me. I hated feeling this way but his existence became a part of my routine. 

I selfishly wanted his acknowledgement simply because he became a part of my life, without much choice from either of us. 

Figures as much. Life brings two strangers in the proximity of one another but we are so scared by who these people are that we run away from each other. What a shame.

And then it happened his week. He stopped asking me. The prediction I had made, from what feels like an eternity ago, came true. I felt satisfied and disappointed. 

The tragedy of time: How long does a person go begging in life until they stop asking? It makes me wonder about the populations I work with. The thought of it truly frightens me. I should not hide from the world but the realities are, at times, hard to swallow. 

I ask myself "why do I feel so scared?" But I suppose that is only for me to know. 

When all is said and done, I cannot help but think one thought. 

What a wasted opportunity to be kind. 

Until next time, 

-Ko. 

*Dr. Manhattan is from the comic book called "Watchmen" by Alan Moore (which you should all read because it is the greatest book ever).