"you're lookin' good to me, that's alls i'm sayin'"

[cunt_spread]

kimbel, the alcoholic drug addict transient that lives on the mattress in the parking lot of the apartment complex, states... as i haul up my bags of groceries politely. i nod my head indifferently, "pregnant and healthy, yep, feelin' good, yep." tangled mumbles as i desert the scene of discomfort. what i really want to say is, "would you kindly take to recycling your beer cans and bottles instead of throwing them around the distraught and untidy corner you occupy. you do live right near a dumpster you know, at least pick up after yourself." but the old saying of don't piss where you sleep doesn't seem to apply to kimbel. and i feel arrogant, like white trash pretending to be better. when i was homeless, granted under different circumstances, i was always respectful of my environment. kimbel is too absorbed in his preoccupation of addiction to take much matter into his manners of surrounding environment and i've taken to holding a grudge against him. we all gotta live somewhere somehow, maybe i'll set up a recycling bin for him by his trash pile, passive aggressive style. i'm not the outstanding citizen interested in making an intervention, he doesn't apply that much interest in his own quality of life so it would be increasingly arrogant to assume he's interested in an intervention, resources, a different life course. but maybe he could be conditioned to care to recycle. i'm bad at awkward communications with people i can't adequately relate to. and i loose more patience when it transcends into a dynamic where they feel entitled to assert their personal taste for me. alls i'm sayin' is recyclin' is lookin' good to me.

buhumbug.