I just wonder...each morning I pass a few benches and each morning on them are a few guys sitting with their beer bottles in hand and many more to come.
Each afternoon I pass the same benches again and often see some of them still sitting there, drinking, staring at nothing or talking with each other. And one time one of the guys was wet...I felt embaressed for him, but he seemed not to mind....or maybe he was just to drunk to feel embaressed about wetting himself in a puplic place at his age.... he just talked on with his mates. (They seemed not to mind either.)
Each time I pass there thousends of questions burning on my lips. What happend, that they sit there? Have they no more dreams or hope left? Have they no family that helps them back on their feet? What did they wanted there lifes to be, when they were children? etc.
Did you ever stopped and asked a stranger, in such a situation, how it came? Would you? Would that be to tactless and bold a question?
TerokNor
Each afternoon I pass the same benches again and often see some of them still sitting there, drinking, staring at nothing or talking with each other. And one time one of the guys was wet...I felt embaressed for him, but he seemed not to mind....or maybe he was just to drunk to feel embaressed about wetting himself in a puplic place at his age.... he just talked on with his mates. (They seemed not to mind either.)
Each time I pass there thousends of questions burning on my lips. What happend, that they sit there? Have they no more dreams or hope left? Have they no family that helps them back on their feet? What did they wanted there lifes to be, when they were children? etc.
Did you ever stopped and asked a stranger, in such a situation, how it came? Would you? Would that be to tactless and bold a question?
TerokNor