And I saw the homeless man I met two weeks ago in the same spot. It was his birthday and he was hungry. Maybe the truth was stretched and his goal was to drown further in a dark pool, but maybe he was an honest man dreaming of a chicken sandwich. I could lose two dollars to a possible lie, or I could buy my own chicken sandwich to pile on the cereal, apple, yogurt, granola bar, roasted chicken, mac and cheese, and cornbread that I had eaten throughout the day. So I risked my two dollars for the hope of giving this man his birthday meal.
I had to do it for myself. I had to do it to believe that all of humanity wasn't gone, blasted away with the bullet hole in that strangers head. I needed to put forth an action that would be in favor of humanity and keep feeding it hope to stay alive. For if the rest of the world goes to shit, I won't let it go in my eyes. Because the day that I stop hoping and believing that the earth is surrounded in good will be the day that there is no point to the exhaling and inhaling of oxygen.
Enjoy your chicken sandwich Mister. I enjoyed your smile when I handed you the two dollars.