Last night my friend and I were walking around the Casco Viejo (old part of town) talking and taking pictures. She was taking pictures and I was talking, what´s new? We were standing in a plaza looking up at the Cathedral when a man started to walk towards us. He saw we were taking pictures and asked if we wouldn´t mind taking his picture and then erase it, just so he could see himself. We did.
When he saw his picture he was really surprised. Apparently he used to have really long hair and he had just cut it. He told us that he was an alcoholic and lived on the streets. He talked to us for about an hour telling us about his children, how proud he was of them, he cried telling us about his family. He showed us a deep, stapled scar he had on his arm. Of course there was a story behind it. He wanted to stop his girlfriend who is addicted to drugs from buying drugs. He positioned himself in her route so she would have to see him as she passed to buy drugs and there he cut his arm. He passed out and woke up with her in the ambulance. He said he succeeded, he stopped her from buying drugs. It was a small victory, but a victory nontheless.
He told us about his past and about how he lives on the streets. He said when the people he loves are happy, he is happy. He lives for people. He thanked us time and time again for listening to us.
I thought it was a pleasure, we as people, are here for each other. We are social beings and thrive on speaking to one another, being heard, seeing emotion in the eyes of our audience.
What I started thinking was, what does it take for us to realize these basic things in life, like being happy, living for those we love and not obsessing over the little things that don't actually matter? Does it take losing our job, our money, our house to realize that those things are important for our life but do not define why we live? Shouldn't we try to be happy while we have these things and/or in the midst of any crisis, which is when we need it the most?
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