Lichenthropy
Active member
i had a really sobering interaction the other day that i cant stop thinking about. i was killing time in a border town in NM (if ya dont know, border towns are spots just on another side of a Native indian reservation) while two of my homies were getting traditional midwife trainings. theres a transit system that allows us to get from the capital of our reservation to the nearest town, this town is known for 2 things among natives and the people who exploit us; being the 'most patriotic town in america' and for mad amount of drunk indians. im at the transit waiting for the next bus and this older clearly drunk man started chatting with me about his day, he had 2 bags on him filled with halloween candy and the other stuffed with a playstation 4. so im listening to this guys life story about how his son is embarrassed about his fathers alcoholism and poverty so the father busted his ass to get his son something rad to play with. soon a couple who were also drunk started talking to the man im talking with about how he should check out a shelter since the sun was going down because it wouldnt be a problem for him to get robbed in his condition. they argue about maybe stealing from the guy and almost get into a fist fight when neither decided to drop it since it would end up going to jail for everyone invlolved. earlier that day i was skating downtown when i ran into 2 drunk white people who got pulled off a train and were panhandling, i started talking with them because why not, right? so they asked about authentic mexican food and how much it would cost, i said probably $20 a plate and they said that isnt too bad and they could afford it. they continued asking for change and i skated off.
so the reason im typing this is because i cant stop thinking about struggling. the real struggle of the two forms of poverty i witnessed. one being the drunk father and his coping with personal, economic, and social struggle that he faces everyday, and the other being the homeless train riding drunk white folx who could afford a killer meal but were trying to get money off of natives who make $20 last for a weeks worth of food. struggle is struggle of course and dying is color blind. im not sure if im trying to say something, but i had to type this out and hopefully get a message out there about where we are at near the end of 2019. take care and think!
so the reason im typing this is because i cant stop thinking about struggling. the real struggle of the two forms of poverty i witnessed. one being the drunk father and his coping with personal, economic, and social struggle that he faces everyday, and the other being the homeless train riding drunk white folx who could afford a killer meal but were trying to get money off of natives who make $20 last for a weeks worth of food. struggle is struggle of course and dying is color blind. im not sure if im trying to say something, but i had to type this out and hopefully get a message out there about where we are at near the end of 2019. take care and think!