Everything was always cool with Jim. He is a highly verbal guy, very good at telling you what you want to hear, but also with a kind heart. He is willing to help you do most any task you may have, and generous with his cigarettes if he likes you.
He is always one step away from eviction, in fact recently he got evicted. He has been to jail a couple of times since I met him. His demeanor was always, “no sweat man, that is how the world works.”
He works quite a bit, and has a college education, but he is also taking lots of extra food home and tends to pick up things that has been laying around unclaimed. I know the feeling of wondering if there will ever be enough food or anything else. I am not exactly sure where it comes from, however, I have always had enough to eat even on the streets. But you can see my greed emerge if I am at a bar and a drink or beer looks to have been left.
Jim has always done meth, at least since I have known him. He tries to pretend he doesn’t, don’t know if he is trying to fool himself or the rest of us. Could be the rest of us; he has some enemies who would love to see him in jail and would turn him in without even thinking it might not be the right thing to do. To me it is like night and day between when he is using and when he is not, just by the way he carries himself. But I know what I am looking for.
Some people who do meth, make it a club of sorts with hand signals and other rituals. They know what society thinks of their white trashiness and I assume the rituals are a way of saying, we belong to something, especially if it is something the fine upstanding citizens hate.
He is too thin and looks far too old for his 45 years and the cool veneer is starting to crack in the face of pure panic, and maybe just the need to connect with someone on a real level. A lot of people turn their lives around when they feel like they have absolutely no choice.
At any rate he pissed dirty for meth a week or so ago, claimed his parole officer had it out for him. But this week as things are closing in a bit, he admitted to trying to take enough meth to overdose. Said he was up for three days straight. Made me sad, so I hugged him and whispered, “Stick around would you?” I also told him I loved him which can’t hurt and it is the truth anyway.
The weather is changing, not as much sunlight as there used to be. People with a lot of stored up grief start to wonder if the struggle is worth it anymore. I have felt that way a time or two myself, actually have some guilt feeling as good as I do these days. Love your neighbor, whoever that me be.
It is easy to judge a guy like Jim, but Christ told us never to judge. If we judge we close ourselves off from any kind of happiness and peace of mind. But at a deeper level, judgment impedes, severally, any kind of friendship and intimacy. Think about the people who judge you in your life, do you ever really feel like getting emotionally close with them? This is an older Hobo Metaphysics but, sit in the unjudgment seat, for your happiness and well being.
Hobo John here. I love you with everything that I have, that is my heart song and the truth of things. Love your neighbor, whoever that may be.
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