Panhandling - Blog Posts
I am addicted to the hatred of others in my community. Dear hometown, I drink your hatred of me like the finest craft root beer. I will never stop panhandling. I will never stop begging. Because your hatred makes me feel alive. All I am doing is asking for help. The more everyone in my community hates me, the more confident I am in my moral superiority. I don't care about your money, hometown. That is just a bonus. I want you to give me all of your disgusting, evil hatred for the poor, because I love it!
All right, enough rest. Time to go back out there and be a public nuisance. I need to make it my mission to annoy every single person in my community with my panhandling. I realize now that nobody is going to give me any money. So my panhandling is now about finding pleasure in causing irritation to others. And if I get some money as well, all the better! I'm taking a chair this time. If nobody is actually going to pay me, I may as well make myself comfortable.
You know, I really hate my community a lot. It felt good to cause a public nuisance by panhandling at an intersection for a couple of hours. I hope that I caused a lot of annoyance for a lot of people. I didn't make any money, but that's not the point. My relationship with my community is now one where I go around asking as many people as possible for money, to express my displeasure. I hope everyone who drove past me at that intersection gets a flat tire. Screw you, everybody in my hometown. Screw all of you and give me money!
I might be going crazy, but I think I'm going to try panhandling tomorrow. Doing gigs and odd jobs is too stressful for me. I'm not homeless, but I can't work and my disability aid is months away. I haven't done panhandling before, and I am rather terrified. But I am going to wear a face mask, a hat, and sunglasses, which will help with the feeling of embarrassment. Wish me luck.