Homeless in Seattle

When I went to Seattle, I drove into the city and saw a group of tents on the hillside by the roadside, with messy daily necessities scattered all over the place. I reacted and thought that this should be the location of homeless people.

In Seattle, I often turn around and see several homeless tents. In the city center, I saw homeless people wandering the streets. Some of them sat on the roadside, wrapping themselves in sleeping bags to protect themselves from the cold, mumbling to themselves. Their luggage was also left on a park bench. At night, I saw homeless people sleeping on the streets. Some slept on cardboard and others on folding beds. In Seattle at the end of the year, the nighttime temperature is above freezing, and it’s hard to freeze to death outdoors. But Seattle is a "rain city" (it rained half of the seven days I stayed in Seattle), and homeless people have to move when it rains. When I walked under the bridge, I found that it was a good place for homeless people to take shelter from the rain. The constant flow of vehicles around them, the roaring trains overhead, the trembling earth and the harsh noises did not seem to disturb their wandering dreams.

Homeless people like to stay in the city center because it is easier to find food in crowded places. When the buffet or restaurant closes for the night, they eat leftovers. Homeless people wander in the city and cannot survive outside the city. The functions of the city are sound and can satisfy their basic necessities, food, housing and transportation. They will return to the shelter when needed, and if they need rescue, they will not die immediately because there are people walking around them all the time. This is the benefit of cities.

At the pier, I saw a homeless man playing cards alone in front of a coffee shop. Next to him was a bicycle with all his belongings hanging on it. He was having a great time sitting at the table, with no wandering expression on his face. At that moment, I suddenly realized that he was the master of this city, and I was just a passerby.

When our car passed the bus stop on the road, I saw a homeless man sitting in the glass hall of the platform. He was young and had a duffel bag at his feet. He rolled up his sleeves and injected himself with a syringe. I couldn't see his expression because he had his head down, but I saw the moment of struggle as the needle pierced his skin, searching for a vein. The people around him looked into the distance, pedestrians walked back and forth in front of him, this city was already familiar to them.

Only I, an outsider, watched him in the slowly moving car, following his every move with my eyes until I lost sight of him.

At night, we walked back to the hotel with tired steps, and suddenly saw a homeless man asleep in a corner of the street. In the early morning, we walked in the alley under the shadow of rain light, and my eyes tried to find the homeless man from last night. But I know they moved because of the rain.

I walked through the places of interest in Seattle, and none of them impressed me as much as these street bums. If I had time, I would love to follow the homeless and see what their daily lives are like. Yes, this wish is just to satisfy my curiosity. Their figures leave a huge space for my imagination. I think they have no house, no car, and no family to follow. Except for simple luggage, there are no extra possessions or belongings. They wander around the city alone and stay in the corners of the city as they please. There is no income, but there is no need to work; there is no family to accompany you, but there is no need to fulfill responsibilities; there is no property, but there is no need to maintain a house, car, or pay bills. They don't worry about rising oil prices, nor do they think about cooking three meals a day. They don't have the anxiety and pressure of people in society. They just need to prevent themselves from getting sick, eat, sleep, and wake up every day. Their lives have been simplified beyond measure. simplify.

Returning to such a simple way of life, without most of the enjoyments of civilized life, their lives are therefore simple, and I even begin to envy them. If I go homeless, I may not be able to survive. They fall asleep on the street without so many pretentious emotions, and they will not be anxious to the point of insomnia.

Once a person exiles himself and wanders in the world, he must let go of such a heavy bond. Seeing those homeless people, I felt like a snail, carrying a heavy shell and not stopping until death. Where did this shell come from? Do you have to memorize it? I had never really thought about these issues until I saw homeless people in Seattle.

How freeing it is to live a life with very little and therefore no material or responsibilities. They have a lot of time, what do they do with it? Their bodies have so few material requirements for this world, but do their spirits have any needs? Do they just want to live?

Behind every homeless man there should be a story. Some people may be homeless temporarily, while others may be homeless by their own choice rather than being forced by life. I would love to know these stories, but I don’t have the chance to hear them.

As we were leaving Seattle, we stopped at a red light. A homeless man walked across the zebra crossing. He was covered with a quilt and walked leisurely, like a knight. That way seems to say, you live your life, I live mine. I think of a homeless man holding a sign that said "Homeless, but not hopeless."

I didn’t see the female tramp. Friends say that if a woman becomes a homeless person, she is very likely to be raped and killed on the street. So, my little pathetic wandering thoughts were given up.