A life less complicated

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There's a guy living on the sidewalk near where I park. He doesn't even bother to sleep under an overhang. He has a shopping cart full of trash to play with and a tattered blanket he pulls over his head when it rains. He talks to birds and cats. Passersby give him a wide berth. He lies on the concrete and watches the clouds float by. He doesn't bathe or shave. He gets food out of the dumpster. He scratches himself wherever it itches and doesn't care who sees. No one loves him. He doesn't answer when you talk to him. Someday he'll die there and his spirit will float up into the clouds and the cats will lick his face.

Sometimes I envy him.

--Burl Burlingame

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