Ikiru (To live)

"How can I go forward when I don't know which way I'm facing?"
-John Lennon
Ask any homeless person what they want most in an immediate sense and the answer might surprise you. It's not love or money or even hope - those are unthinkable luxuries meant only for others. No, the answer is 'rest'. There is no rest from your fellow man. The draining weariness that ages street people so quickly gives no quarter. I spend all my time now searching for rest.

The 'rest' issue is racking my health and I have to consider any option available. I could try doing a straight job again. I have a chance for a janitorial job which would allow me to then stay in a cheap hotel. I could hide in my little room and peer out into the world through my invisible bars. My own Trump Tower. But would that bring rest?

Problem is, I want to live too badly. I can't force myself into godawful jobs any more. In my novel I spoke of those wounded by the Factory Grind. Some physically, some mentally. The mentally dead will say any job is a good job because they have lost the capacity for boredom - and therefore lost the capacity to contribute. The mentally twisted will say a job must be taken no matter how much one suffers - these are people to whom their children will never give true love. So I know what the insane have to say.

It's a constant line I walk between the logistics of living and the desires of life. The ebb and flow between the two are continually at odds within me. I never find the answer. Sometimes I think my life is lived only in theory, a giant lab experiment. It's so confusing to figure out which way to go. I must decide soon on this job or it too will be gone with the wind. I just can't decide right now. Right now, I need to rest.