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Unsettled

Not everyone has a heart for charity, and one would certainly find that this is especially true for Jared. For he is the typical homeless person you do not see but know that he has his presence in your surrounding.

He dresses in untidy, unconventional clothing, and has long, tangled hair with hidden treasures embedded inside. He does not look at you when he speaks to you, but his hands would always be moving around your pocket. He is no thief by any tradition, because he steals none of your money but your sympathy. It is totally up to you to decide whether or not to give them what they have been asking for, or just give them a shrug and hasten away from their foul body smile.

Jared is aware of his condition, though he could not do anything about it. You don't have to tell him that he smells like the sewer, or that he looks terrible. No, he knows better than you. The most important thing for him at a daily basis, is that he survives another day. Living under the highway bridge, the back alley, the bench at parks, the street, in front of a closed bar. You name it, he have done it. What unstable living environment taught him is that he knows the boundary. He does not dread on a place if he is not welcome there. Well, sometimes Winters hit hard or a torrent of wind poured down at midnight, he would have to break the boundary and find a place to settle for a short period. In fact, he knows where he's been blacklisted and where he's been allowed to stay on a burning wire-once the spark reach the end, he would have to go. Not a shred of tear would drop, not a moment of reconsideration.

What makes him special is that he lives in a different group. Jared maintained his livelihood a bit different from us. He has got no jobs that earns him a stable residence or regular meal, he has got no personal possession other than those he gathered from the path he crossed since he has started living off from the street. While he doesn't need anything, or anyone, he does have a heart for scold.

How many time do you not hear Jared cursing, or other times, singing off his sorrow, on the street? Alas, this is the way he knows how to express himself, his discontent, his anger, his bitterness.

A child ran toward Jared with a charity box carried around her neck. "Would you like donate some money to help our charity work for the homeless people? Just chip in a little would be a big help, mister."

Jared peered inside the box of money, his eyes fluttering, his cheek shivered. "Why don't you give me the box there and help the homeless right now? Easy, and direct."

The child held the box and looked into it. Then she raised her head with an innocent look, her cheeks pink as roses. "Alright mister, you can have it."

With a soft pop, the child opened the box, and Jared held his hands in midair, formed a cup, and heard the coins clinking against each other, felt the texture of paper money pressed against his palm. His eye shone with hope.

"That's all. What are you going to do with it?" the child asked, her hands at her back, her body twisting around slightly like she is asking her mother for a new boyfriend.

"I'm going to spend like I know how," replied the homeless, unkempt, illicit Jared, "I'm going to buy all the cheap liquor this money can buy and have a fantastic night."

"Don't you want to buy new clothes?" the girl pointed her tiny finger at him, "you could really use a new pair of trouser and a new shirt."

Jared checked his shirt and jean, swiping his hands over his body. "They look fine to me, girl. But if you are buying, that's a totally different story," Jared keeps an eye out for an adult who might be this girl's legal guardian. "Say, you don't happen to have some money on you?"

"I haven't got any, mister. But I do have candies in my pocket. Would you like one? Mom said we were suppose to share the sweet with others."

"Do you see my tooth here?" Jared crouched down with his left hand pressing on the floor, his head leveled with the girl. "Are you see this? This is what eating candies did to me. Do you want to be like this?" Jared put his little finger through the crack of his lost tooth and filled it up.

The little girl let out a shriek and runs away.

Jared, what have you done, again?

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