یکشنبه 6 مهرماه سال 1382 ساعت 02:01 ب.ظ
What a night was it. Dark and windy and how fast she jumped across the street. She wore black from head to toe and her short, blond hair was shining under the moon light. Her back bent of two very heavy bags she had been carrying. So afraid of people around her. she looked at me with those empty eyes. I don't know what was in her mind but I am damn sure that I pity her...
What a Crazy night was it with cars moving so fast. Each exhausted driver tried to precedence other cars to reach home and rest. And, She was jumping in to the street every minute hope to find a ride but no one cared,... Cars passed her so fast that I thoughtshe might be killed by one of them. But she never gave up. Two cars passed and drivers just stared at her and ME beacuse I was so close to her, so I went back and sit on the stoney bench near the bus station waiting for a bus.
The bus finally came and she , faster than others, jumped in,...
I was so touched that I could not avoid staring at her. I was thinking, " No one is guilty except herself. She is able to walk, speak, see, and work, so why is she choosing this lifestyle?"
It is not just a story of her but many other homelesses in Santa Monica.
We can not blame the governmnet beacuse these people recieve acceptable amount of money each month from government. By saving some money they can find a better place to stay, work , and having much healthier food.
Therefore, they ( themselves) are trouble makers. They are used to cold floors of streets, to shit smell, and used to heavy boxes full of useless stuff.
Whay do they do this to themselves?