Wednesday, October 15, 2014
My Friend, Keith...
Tonight I wanted to talk about Keith, he’s the older guy who is the maintenance man here at the Wildflower. He’s 72, not in such good health, he has, among other things, emphysema. He doesn’t have health care because as with so many people in this money based society, he cannot afford it. He’s a great guy – I couldn’t ask for a better co-worker. He’s always cheerful, never snippy or angry, he’s precise and thorough when he gives me instructions, and he never gives off the vibe that I’m in his way, that I’m bothering him, or that I’m stupid. He knows his stuff, but arrogance doesn’t exist anywhere in his being. He barely squeaks by on his paycheck, he barely has enough to eat, and, he has a supply of ramen for when he’s out of food. Keith is all alone – I haven’t heard about any friends, he has no girlfriend or wife, seemingly nobody who actually cares about him. I find this sad beyond belief. I help Keith as much as I can, in any way I can, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough, and I don’t know what else to do.
I guess this is just another thing that causes me to hate the world so much. He’s only 12 years older than I am. I’m about a half inch away from being homeless, and from running out of food. I don't have a phone, either - not that I need one. I have no family to speak of, and nobody who really cares about me - but believe it or not, I'm ok with all of that - not the almost most homeless or almost out of food part - but everything else. I’ve already done my usual with at least one of the people here – I somehow caused her to have some degree of dislike for me – and I’ve only been here a little over three weeks. I’ve known for quite a while that I’m not the most likeable guy, but well, the degree, and the uncanny ability to incite such dislike, and even contempt – is amazing, even to me. Keith is not the usual kind of person, and he seems to be just fine with me. I also don’t seem to have that problem with animals. On that, I’ve befriended the little cat that lives here – she still won’t come all the way up to me – about three feet is about as close as she’ll get – as opposed to when I first started seeing her, where she’d run whenever I was anywhere in her sight. Anyway, I’ve always said that I don’t care that most people don’t like me, I only care that the genuine, the completely honest, and the ones who possess real integrity find me worthy of their respect. I tell you, there aren’t many people out there who are worthy of MY respect, as I’ve said many times here, most people cause me great disgust. When I say “Completely honest”, “Genuine”, and “Those who possess real integrity”, I mean those who have these traits all the way down to their core. It means that while they may not steal an old woman’s purse, when it comes to their personal integrity – are they honest about what they believe, what they feel, and do they live what they proclaim? Most people don’t, I’ve heard, more times than I can begin to count, people pointing fingers at me, or exclaiming some cliché that they stumbled across, and in the same breath, contradict it, both verbally and in action. Example: I’ve had many a finger wagged in my face in anger at something I supposedly did or said, right after they just got done telling me I shouldn’t take anything personally, and that I shouldn’t react to anything other people do. Ah well, my ass backward energy field at work once again – that, or most people’s unending bullshit – either way, I always seem to be the one to pay for it all – my own, AND everybody else’s.
I won’t allow me to end up like Keith – and I don’t say that in any kind of condescending way. He chooses to live – even with all he has to deal with – being in bad health, being destitute, and being alone, and that’s perfectly ok, because it’s his choice, and his choice alone. Me, I’ll be dust in the ground long before I let the universe deal me any more bullshit. I have thoughts at this moment about checking the hell out of here – not strong ones, but they’re there. I have a couple of things in the works as I write this, if they don’t pan out within a reasonable amount of time, it just might be the end of my journey in this horribly sadistic place.
I’ll leave it there for now, little diary, and I’ll probably talk to you again soon.