Life

When Life Talks to a Homeless

A dialogue that reflects the raw essence of the whole existence

In the heart of life’s bustling marketplace, where dreams often mingle with despair, a conversation unfolded between Life itself and a soul cast aside, worn by hardships. This lost soul, a homeless man, caught my attention amidst the sea of faces; his burden of sorrow etched deeply into his visage, the emblems of relentless hardship and fatigue marking his every feature.

I pondered, what could Life possibly demand from such a being? Has not the ordeal of homelessness sufficed life to pounce at him like a wild beast, a sweeping disease, and a pain that melts years away of his age?

Unable to hold back, my thoughts took shape in this imagined dialogue between Life and the homeless:

The Homeless:

Life bites me with its teeth, chews me beneath its molars till I diminish. I feel my essence waning, my spirit shrinking, my heart withering.

I’ve wallowed in miseries, mingled with malice, soaked in harm as if I am weeping solid mud and sweating bitterness. What sweetness could you possibly find in my tattered self, in my embittered existence?

No, you’ll find no sweetness in me nor any delight. Perhaps you’ll only be hurt by me, perhaps lose a tooth and damage another.

I burst with peculiarity; what pleasure do you find in chewing me, grinding me beneath your jaws? Isn’t there someone more delightful than me, more enticing?

Now, I’ve reached the lean years. Only skin covers me, inherited from a health that once carried me to you. Everything I possessed, hope, ambition, and passion, I cast into the stormy sea, yet I crossed it to you after discarding my potential and values, thinking they burdened my journey to you.

The mantle of dignity and pride, you know? I sold it at a paltry sum, sold it as my tears soaked my clothes. Now, this is what I awaited: drowning in my tears, ensnared by the chill of spirit and body. I couldn’t but meet you. I cared for nothing else; I wanted my life to be mine. I wanted my journey to end with finding you.

I worked, I studied, and I sacrificed. My hope is that you will be my happiness and joy. But you were the complete opposite. Now, who would replace everything I lost on your path? Who would compensate my sufferings on my way to you?

Alas, I believed my journey towards you was adorned with hopes and blessings. My hope was dashed, my optimism returned, I lost health, and indeed, I lost everything. So, do not touch me.

There’s nothing in me for you to probe with your fingers, nothing for you to feel. Go, find someone else, and leave me alone. Please, leave me by myself. These bones suffice for my return. I’ll stand on them like a withered cane, embedding one into the ground at times, dragging the other at times. I will return and find a life beyond you. I’ll not be devoid of plans; trust me, I’ll find a way.

I regret that I ever set sail towards you, Life. If I could turn back time, I would never embark on this journey towards you. You are the epitome of injustice, the harshest reality I’ve come to know. I regret being a part of you and having you as part of me.

Leave me, and I won’t ask for debt repayment or a cure for my wound. Leave me, even as flies hover over my open wound and spilled blood, just go. Believe me, my wound and I are better off without you. Just go.”

Life Responded:

“Where shall I go? If I leave, you leave. I am the canvas where you imprint your mark, where you leave your impact. I am with you, and there is no alternative to me; you must have me. If I go, you go, vanish, end. So be with me, and I’ll be with you.

I will spit you out. Do not worry. I have no desire to swallow a worn body, a tired soul, a consumed spirit. I just want to ensure you have no way to go back. I will convince others that you are there on purpose. I will make it as if you choose to be there. So, bare tight skinny man, we are close, then we can go, and then we can leave.

My Word:

The dialogue between the homeless and life reflects the raw essence of existence, each word a reflection of the profound truth that life, in all its greatness and bleakness, does not distribute its gifts nor its burdens equally.

Let this imaginable dialogue be a reminder to us all: We are not inherently special nor superior to others. Our luck merely spared us from the harsh reality faced by those like the homeless. It’s time we halt our judgments and extend our hands to assist the homeless and those in need. We should deeply understand that they are not lazy nor inherently faulted. They didn’t choose this path, nor did they savor the hardships thrust upon them.

Help them, or at the very least, stop your judgments.

Author’s Note

Thank you for reading my story. Here is some information about my background. 🙏Consider sharing and participating in the conversation if this content speaks to you. For any queries, collaborations, or comments, reach out to me at [email protected]. Thank you for supporting my work!