Write about walking past homeless people

I drove past a homeless girl holding up a sign that said, "Broke an Homeless, anything helps. God Bless." I couldn't get it out of my mind. The atrocious grammar nearly drove me insane.

>pretend to be too deep in thought to look at homeless person im obviously keeping an eye out for in peripheral vision

deep/10
meme/10
meme/10
kek/10
me/10
prettymuchspiritualcopypastaatthispoint/10
classic/10
relatable as fuck desu, niggas might stab me for my money that I don't have but they don't know that.

>Suddenly I find myself eyeing a very pretty homeless girl sitting on the steps of a brownstone on Amsterdam, a Styrofoam coffee cup resting on the step below her feet, and as if guided by radar I move toward her, smiling, fishing around in my pocket for change. Her face seems too young and fresh and tan for a homeless person’s; it makes her plight all the more heartbreaking. I examine her carefully in the seconds it takes to move from the edge of the sidewalk to the steps leading up to the brownstone where she sits, her head bowed down, staring dumbly into her empty lap. She looks up, unsmiling, after she notices me standing over her. My nastiness vanishes and, wanting to offer something kind, something simple, I lean in, still staring, eyes radiating sympathy into her blank, grave face, and dropping a dollar into the Styrofoam cup I say, “Good luck.”
>Her expression changes and because of this I notice the book—Sartre—in her lap and then the Columbia book bag by her side and finally the tan-colored coffee in the cup and my dollar bill floating in it and though this all happens in a matter of seconds it’s played out in slow motion and she looks at me, then at the cup, and shouts, “Hey, what’s your goddamn problem?” and frozen, hunched over the cup, cringing, I stutter, “I didn’t … I didn’t know it was … full,” and shaken, I walk away, hailing a taxi, and heading toward Hubert’s in it I hallucinate the buildings into mountains, into volcanoes, the streets become jungles, the sky freezes into a backdrop, and before stepping out of the cab I have to cross my eyes in order to clear my vision. Lunch at Hubert’s becomes a permanent hallucination in which I find myself dreaming while still awake

Holy shit this is gold

lol

Fucking hobos. I wish they all died. God he stinks I can't even breathe. Fucking retard get a job or just die already. Why do you live you worthless dog. Go to nature you idiot!!! Society doesn't want you, why are you still here. He is disgusting. Doesn't even have legs, ugh.

You can't look sympathetic or they'll leech onto you, just step right over them

this is ironic
this isn't

I love hive-mind duality

>I find myself eyeing a very pretty homeless girl
stopped reading here

It was a brisk Autumn morning with the aroma of fried chestnut circulating through the town streets. I decided to fill a vacant morning by taking a stroll with Jane, my girlfriend.
The walk was relaxing. We didn't talk much, instead we silently agreed to enjoy the beautiful day. Walking past the local Starbucks, I noticed an old, smelly-looking guy with an unkempt beard laying on the concrete. As soon as I saw the scene, my fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. I panicked quickly and decided to just walk past the old man, whose facial expression remained unchanged.
Jane read the moral dilemma on my face.

"You should've given that sweet old man some money. He didn't deserve to live like that. Let's help him out."

After pondering the plea for a couple of seconds, I decided she was right. In any case, my sex life was at stake. I turned around, walked back some twenty meters and gracefully lowered a five dollar bill into the dirty hand.

"Look at yourself, you cuckold!", the old man said, "You allow yourself to be manipulated by that broad of yours? A real man makes his decision and sticks by it! You don't squander the little authority you have by flopping like a limp dick!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I stood there silently in shame until Jane came to my aid.

"God damn, you're a real asshole aren't you? And that fiver could've bought you a decent meal, ugh! Give it back!"

"Fuck you, I'm keeping the money, unless you want to fight me for it. The next time you're about to have sex with this excuse for a man, remember what happened here and how he lost his honor AND his money, bitch."

We're often taught to treat everyone with respect and dignity, especially those in grave predicaments like people who lost their homes. We're taught they aren't to blame, they are victims of a cruel system, there is a heart of gold under that rough, worn out shell.
Well, I taught something else today - sometimes you're living on the street because you're a fucking asshole.

Actually I wasn't being ironic, it's literally my thought process every time I walk past a homeless person

As I was returning from the library where I used to train my mind, I spotted a homeless person sitting on a bench.
"I say t-there is no darkness but ignorance" I said in his general direction.
He looked up with a puzzled face "huh?"
"Yeah, maybe Naruto will be more up your speed" I said while accelerating my step.
"God I hope he doesn't answer" I thought to myself. "Is it possible that he has one of those things to cut other people with, a shiv?"
My heart started racing. That could have been my last moments on earth just because I couldn't shut up. "God, I hate my big mouth.
I guess it's the price I have to pay for all my knowledge though."
That hobo sure looked threatening. At least his shadow did. I was starting to panic. I had to rush home.
I ran and ran, the hobo was tailing me I could sense it, probably waiting for the right moment to shiv me with his AIDS blade, I ran for what seemed like minutes until I bumped violently against an asian man.
I was the only one who ended up on the floor for some reason and the man helped me get up.
"Why you run like that?" he asked while pulling my arm.
"A hobo was trying to kill me some minute ago" I replied, breathless.
He scrutinized me with his asian eyes and answered calmly "Why you still there?"

CRASH! Mom made a homeless person pancakes.

Heheh

Oh god, he's starting to hit street light poles with a metal bar and he's muttering to strangers.. If I stab him in the liver and abdomen he'll bleed out and die quickly. Thank god he's down the street now... he just grabbed food off of someone's plate.

"Do homeless people fuck? Serious question."
"I fucked your mom white boi."
"Yeah, you and everyone else in this town."
"Hah.. u alright man..."
"Thanks. I've always held homeless people's opinions in high regard. Means a lot coming from you."

*teleports behind you* *unsheathes katana*
"heh nothing personnel... kid..."

Wowee

Spoiler: she ain't really homeless

Only one enemy remained; two, if you count the homeless person I walked past

Tell me user, did Maman die today?

We were stopped at a light downtown. My wife and I were a little nervous driving the maze of confusing, one-way streets of downtown. My head was on a swivel, looking for the route to our destination. However, my eyes soon locked on a homeless man panhandling cars at the stoplight. He was tall, with a frame and teeth that might once have been healthy, but had no doubt been ravaged by the consequences of his poor decisions. His hair was unkept, and his dirty clothes bespoke of hardships a man should not have to endure in civilized society, yet his wild and crazy eyes elicited fear rather than pity. My wife clenched her fists and straightened her back, whispering, "Don't look him in the eyes, and don't give him any money. He'll just buy drugs." Her advice was sound, but I was tired of this charade, we were in the streets of our own city, why should we hide from some bum such as he?

I lowered the window ever so slightly and beckoned the panhandler to my car. To his surprise, my wife's shame, and my own amusement, I rolled up the window and locked my car doors with loud audible "clicks" several times as he stood in shock at my window, muttering obscenities. The light changed green and I drove off, laughing maniacally.

That's kinda my point

Once upon a time I was wandering through Vancouver, meandering with family ahead of me. A man in somewhat tattered clothes asked me, quietly, if I might give him some money.

I turned to him and said, "I'm sorry, I'm an American, and I haven't exchanged my cash yet, so I don't have any Canadian money."

He seemed disappointed, but not overly so. He looked at me and said, "Thank you for not ignoring me like everyone else."

I have thought about that encounter over and over again, in the years that since have passed. I gave him no money, but he was satisfied by me, because I saw him, and I made a person of him, which no one else seemed willing to do. And I have noticed, in my watchings, that people often will not make people of homeless people. They will ignore or overlook them. They become less than people.

I always try to give the homeless money when I can, and ever since that day I have striven to make them valued when I do. I speak with them, I look them in the eye, and tell them, "God bless you." I hope He will. I do.

Good 4 u

Are you trying to sound like someone submitting a story to their high school magazine?

As I crossed the street on foot toward the bank I noticed Paul. Walking the opposite direction towards the village green. "'Lo Paulie," I energetically called. More reserved, he responded politely. I saw the characteristic book under one arm, and his uniform-like black bib-overalls. It had also seemed he had lost weight. He had his mashed potatoes privelege revoked at the local pub, and all I have ever seen him buy are canned fortified cocktails. Poor bastard.

No, I'm just trying to tell a story of something that happened to me.

Become a mime.

God bless you, too, user.

The homeless? I hate them. They suck. They suck so badly.

Whoever had anecdotally made the outside of the bijou Tesco commercial and began to plea for the busy passing ant's werewithals with a strange lesser alignment to their path.

It was erroneous to state that this vagrancy had been spread across somewhere so accessible, so that the exposition stood naked before the people. I emerge with the knowledge that urbanity doesn't actually appeal to most of them, even though the air flowing through the countryside is just as full of the corrupt petrochemical nutrition as it would be outside of this polluted shop. He was there for a number of days, and very apparently capsized his time; he should have done anything else, because the system betrayed him. I, for one, would accept almost any felony that vagrant committed.

Pretentious trash/10

"I walked down the street."

t. New Yorker

Yes, or yesterday

Every encounter with them reminds me that the homeless should be purged, together with gypsies, criminals, drug addicts and other human trash. Kill them or send them off to gulags, I care not, but the streets should be cleansed for the well being of the collective.

So he masturbates
A wilted flower in bloom
And the wind must blow

>You what the fuck do you want to fuck with me?
>absolutely haram
>damn, piece love and understanding
>what the fuck do you see now something

>do you even lit?

HOLY.... I would LOVE some more.

This won an audible laugh from me.