i am reminded every time i go down Pacific Ave that what the many homeless people crave, need is to be seen. to be acknowledged, to be heard.

i cannot imagine a life where people looked past me. where my words were not heard. where i blended in to the point of near invisibility.

and yet have the paradox of having to look over my shoulder, to face the fear of death and violence as the shops close and the visitors go home.

i need to step outside of my own selfish desires and sacrifice, truly sacrifice and listen to the ache in my chest that happens whenever i look at them. because giving the change i have is not really a sacrifice at all, its lazy and convienent.

i need to sacrifice some of the money i would rather spend on frozen yogurt or gas to go somewhere cool and buy them a hot meal.

i need to sacrifice the time i would rather be using to read stupid harry potter or hang out with friends and simply listen.

i need to sacrifice my comfort.