Watashi ni wa rī

Dredged up from my old blog

Steppin’ to the Dark Side

I looked at the man with an unnecessary amount of scorn.
Mom had taught me to be a charitable person. I was never greedy or selfish (on purpose anyway) and giving had grown to be a part of my nature. If I had it I didn’t mind sharing it and used to feel happy doing so.
On December 27th 2006, that aspect of my personality took a shot to the head. I still like to give, but I’m not as open to it as I used to be. On that morning, someone broke into the place where I lived. Wait, let me be correct, my neighbors broke into my home and robbed me.
As I slept, the people who I had been quite charitable to since I moved in decided to repay me. I never gave them money all the time but sometimes I know things are tough so I’d try to help out. I let them use the pipe on the premises whenever they needed to wash someone’s car for a few extra dollars and never asked for anything in return. But I got something in return.
Who knows, maybe it’s my kindness that stayed their hands from killing me because I know they were armed. I slept through the entire ordeal but I found clues about the house. Had I stirred, my own hammer would have probably been placed through my skull. Like I said though, I didn’t come away unscathed.
The man came up to me and produced a folder. On one side of the folder there was a photo of three young little girls, his daughters he claimed, the youngest of which got badly burned, was in the hospital and needed my help with a donation. Unbeknownst to the man however, he told me his daughter was in the hospital more than 8 months prior. Yet another fucker was trying to rob me.
Here are some of the thoughts that ran through my head:
• With you as a father maybe she would have been better off if she died from those ‘injuries’
• Why the fuck aren’t you at work because it seems that you should be working 24-7 and not harassing my ass to take care of your family.
• Thank you very much for assuming that I have no problems of my own.
• I give you money and next thing you know you and your buddies are gonna come rob me next.
Very bad I know. Its thoughts like those that have been going through my mind whenever a so called ‘destitute’ person has come asking me for charity. I get angry because I remember what my charity got me.
I guess I know that I shouldn’t judge all for the actions of one but I can’t help but realize that I’m nothing more than a nameless face to these people. Nothing more than their next joint, hit or nip. Someone they would have no trouble sacrificing if it meant they’d get a little extra change. It frightens me and vexes me at the same time.
I’m not a bad person…but unfortunately when it comes to strangers… I’m not a nice person either.