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Originally uploaded by Rachel Ariel.

My cats woke me up too early this morning, with their crazies and their zoommies. I’ve been awake for almost two hours, trying to get back to sleep, watching the end of the season of Lost, and pretending that I don’t feel as nauseated and exhausted as I do.

My new apartment is basically done, I just have to straighten up the miscellaneous chaos. I wish I had less stuff. I know it’s seemingly simple to achieve this wish… just throw things out. Right,

I think I should probably not sleep with House of Leaves peering at me from the bookshelf… taunting me with the pictures on its spine, saying “it’s been four years, don’t you think it’s time to reread me?” I say NO!

I suppose I could get up, fix some coffee and take a shower. But somehow that feels like admitting defeat. With 10 minutes until mmy alarm goes off I think it may be time to throw in the towel though.

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Originally uploaded by Rachel Ariel.

I have had a couple of experiences in my life that have made me stop in my mental tracks and think hard about the world I am living in. I had one such moment this morning as I was walking to work. A woman was walking down the street, sobbing hysterically. It was rush hour and the sidewalk was crowded, yet no one paid her any attention.

What I did, or did not do, in this situation, is not irrelevant, but it is also something that is between me, the woman, and the universe. This blog is not a place where I ask for props or condemnation for my actions, or lack of actions. It is not a place for me to air the trauma of another human being.

What has happened to our humanity, that we, as a society, can not see someone who is in such clear and obvious pain?

On my way home from a training a couple of months ago I was waiting at the bus stop with two fellow trainees and was approached by a man. He wanted money, for a cab to get to a job interview, or his shelter, or something. Of the three of us, all committed to helping others in crisis, only I scrounged in my pockets for the change that I had.

People say “don’t give them money, they’ll just buy alcohol” or “it just reinforces that it will work for them to beg”. Am I a sucker? Probably. I don’t feel sorry for people though. I don’t care if someone is asking me for money so that he can go buy cheap vodka, I don’t care if she’s made up an infant to get my dollar. These are other human beings, and they are asking me for help. And it doesn’t cost me very much to help them. And if for every ten people who doesn’t need the money, or who uses it to make the pain go away, or whatever socially unacceptable use they choose, I help one person who really needs it, I feel as though it is worthwhile.

I have a roof over my head. I have a family that has always wanted what is best for me, that never abused or mistreated me. I have friends who are supportive and challenging. I have the freedom to leave my job if I want, or need to, and I have a small amount of disposable income. I am grateful for all of these things, and I cannot help but want these things for everyone. Barring my ability to buy the world a coke, I’d like to think that my eyes are open to help where I am able.