A kind of journal (2)

12/28/2010 § Leave a comment

I’m afraid that my failures have taught me nothing worth learning. Here I am again, penniless & hungry, and writing out the misery thereof.

.

Yesterday I made an appointment with campus Food Bank and was told this morning to come to the SUB at 3:30 pm. I spent all morning and most of the afternoon fantasizing about canned beans and maybe some eggs. When the time came I went out into the rain in my jacket, carrying a green grocery bag and salivating.

But when I got there the building was locked. No sign of anyone in or outside. I walked around the building for good twenty minutes probing for entry and hoping the Food Bank volunteer who had contacted me would recognize me by the grocery bag. No such luck. Not only was I starved, but now I was wet also.

When I came back to my room there was an email waiting for me, timestamped 3:34 pm.

“Sorry, I was not aware the building would be locked today. How about Friday?”

I just laughed. The story of my life.

.

There is no beauty in poverty. Nor in hunger. Just the sure savagery of the animal in human that’s easily forgotten in this land of milk & honey. And rain.

I want to eat something other than my words.

I’m pretty sure I’m catching a cold.

I miss Mom.

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