Poverty is a funny thing you know.
Not funny as in "look at that poor bastard, he's so poor. haha"
A better funny, as in "this is fucked up, like really fucked up, if I don't start laughing I'm going to start crying, hahaha..." kind of funny.
Here is a funny joke I experienced about life. I think its humorous how people can't look me in the eye when they're two feet away and I'm squatting against the 7-11 like I got no where to go. They can't even look in my general direction. Instead, they pretend to stare ahead with there nervous frightened eyes and there heads cocked back almost to the sky to avoid any interaction or infection. On the fucking verge of letting out a yelp if my movements are to quick or to sudden. Ready to scream "POLICE!" if I even dared to speak.
I gaze into there fucking panicked little eyes... and I feel... if I keep staring long enough they might just be repelled away like magnets! Flying off into the opposite direction, Zip! ZaPow! Gone! I sit in front of the store looking the part and acting the role, poverty.
I'm not just "poor", I'm in there safe zone. In Wonderland they are so accustomed to never seeing poor; being poor; or living poor they about shit themselves realizing I'm sitting by the entrance they have to walk in. So close they have to either acknowledge me or trip over me...a couple choose to trip.
In and out, the store is busy, its Saturday morning and I'm cold, hungry, tired and a little drunk, the perfect condition for gaining a clear view on the world. The police come around twice but I pay little attention without a K-9 drug buster at there sides. I thought I was going to get harassed but they only talk to me once... With my head safely hiding in my jacket from the cold wind. "You can't sleep there..." was all that was uttered, it wasn't loud enough to be a command. In his voice I could hear that he sympathized with me and justified "but what can I do?" I get up walk around the block and sit back down.
A black Lamborghini with time travel doors pulls up right in front of me and a GQ cyborg model steps out practicing his standard plastic smile. Although, after a quick glance in my direction his smile immediately defaults into a hideous grimace, a suiting natural composure. Then just as quickly, but with noticeable mechanical effort, his plastic smile is re-established. Viola! Magick!
Seizing an opportunity to finally communicate I smile staring back... but he is already looking through me, erasing me from his realty and moving on. I couldn't help but let out a loud laugh right then, at the swiftness he had done this...don't worry, he doesn't mind being laughed at if he's pretending your not there...
I keep spirits up; an Adventurer hails! A wild-haired madman engaged in intimate self dialogue approaches inquiring about a cigarette. I inform him I don't have any and away he goes walking his yellow tainted(or just rusted) bicycle, all the way jabbering. I think of and wonder how many people are homeless and poor because they have to many voices trying to talk at once...
I start to feel hopeless and begin disliking this experiment greatly...A GQ role model in a nice car steps out except instead of ignoring me, acknowledges me, a surprise. His eyes are filled with compassion, concern, and benevolence. Finally 1 for humanity. After leaving the store he hands me a $10 which I thank him for and immediately buy food with.
I choose to buy a can of ravioli and add to my fearsome visage of poverty. Middle class, wealthy people still scurry in, now further away as I sport a tomato sauce & meat mustache. Slamming the can down on the ground to loosen the chunks, I make a glorious ravioli hobo mess around me, people are ignoring me from across the street now...
An epiphany occurred, "I am so fucking poor, its literally scary!" I thought, "I'm so fucking broke, people won't even look at me!" "My poverty is so great, when I'm eating off the ground, leaned up against a trash can, my jacket huddled up for warmth, biding my time before my next meal, people pretend I'm not there!" "Wow... that's how fucking poor I am..."
It starts as a chuckle and I can't stop, next laughing and I can't stop, then I'm rolling on the ground laughing and I can't stop!
I have to hold my breath, grind my teeth and clench a fist to break the fit...
Poverty is just so God Damn funny hahaha...
Always appreciate good humor.
Not funny as in "look at that poor bastard, he's so poor. haha"
A better funny, as in "this is fucked up, like really fucked up, if I don't start laughing I'm going to start crying, hahaha..." kind of funny.
Here is a funny joke I experienced about life. I think its humorous how people can't look me in the eye when they're two feet away and I'm squatting against the 7-11 like I got no where to go. They can't even look in my general direction. Instead, they pretend to stare ahead with there nervous frightened eyes and there heads cocked back almost to the sky to avoid any interaction or infection. On the fucking verge of letting out a yelp if my movements are to quick or to sudden. Ready to scream "POLICE!" if I even dared to speak.
I gaze into there fucking panicked little eyes... and I feel... if I keep staring long enough they might just be repelled away like magnets! Flying off into the opposite direction, Zip! ZaPow! Gone! I sit in front of the store looking the part and acting the role, poverty.
I'm not just "poor", I'm in there safe zone. In Wonderland they are so accustomed to never seeing poor; being poor; or living poor they about shit themselves realizing I'm sitting by the entrance they have to walk in. So close they have to either acknowledge me or trip over me...a couple choose to trip.
In and out, the store is busy, its Saturday morning and I'm cold, hungry, tired and a little drunk, the perfect condition for gaining a clear view on the world. The police come around twice but I pay little attention without a K-9 drug buster at there sides. I thought I was going to get harassed but they only talk to me once... With my head safely hiding in my jacket from the cold wind. "You can't sleep there..." was all that was uttered, it wasn't loud enough to be a command. In his voice I could hear that he sympathized with me and justified "but what can I do?" I get up walk around the block and sit back down.
A black Lamborghini with time travel doors pulls up right in front of me and a GQ cyborg model steps out practicing his standard plastic smile. Although, after a quick glance in my direction his smile immediately defaults into a hideous grimace, a suiting natural composure. Then just as quickly, but with noticeable mechanical effort, his plastic smile is re-established. Viola! Magick!
Seizing an opportunity to finally communicate I smile staring back... but he is already looking through me, erasing me from his realty and moving on. I couldn't help but let out a loud laugh right then, at the swiftness he had done this...don't worry, he doesn't mind being laughed at if he's pretending your not there...
I keep spirits up; an Adventurer hails! A wild-haired madman engaged in intimate self dialogue approaches inquiring about a cigarette. I inform him I don't have any and away he goes walking his yellow tainted(or just rusted) bicycle, all the way jabbering. I think of and wonder how many people are homeless and poor because they have to many voices trying to talk at once...
I start to feel hopeless and begin disliking this experiment greatly...A GQ role model in a nice car steps out except instead of ignoring me, acknowledges me, a surprise. His eyes are filled with compassion, concern, and benevolence. Finally 1 for humanity. After leaving the store he hands me a $10 which I thank him for and immediately buy food with.
I choose to buy a can of ravioli and add to my fearsome visage of poverty. Middle class, wealthy people still scurry in, now further away as I sport a tomato sauce & meat mustache. Slamming the can down on the ground to loosen the chunks, I make a glorious ravioli hobo mess around me, people are ignoring me from across the street now...
An epiphany occurred, "I am so fucking poor, its literally scary!" I thought, "I'm so fucking broke, people won't even look at me!" "My poverty is so great, when I'm eating off the ground, leaned up against a trash can, my jacket huddled up for warmth, biding my time before my next meal, people pretend I'm not there!" "Wow... that's how fucking poor I am..."
It starts as a chuckle and I can't stop, next laughing and I can't stop, then I'm rolling on the ground laughing and I can't stop!
I have to hold my breath, grind my teeth and clench a fist to break the fit...
Poverty is just so God Damn funny hahaha...
Always appreciate good humor.
Going through holes in fences, running into dog heads skewered on thick sticks.
Pieces of bits blood and gore, dried walking corpses with atrophy and shut eyes
send me more dreams. i dont wake up screaming enough.