Each day I awake with the sense of gratitude that a Facebook Guardian Angel provided sanctuary. Each day I leave with the fear it will end earlier than expected. I am vulnerable by choice; at least in the sense that my choices both noble and ignoble brought me to this point. I feel like a dead man walking with no execution date.

The morning at the libarary is full of anticipation as I log in to the computer for the first of my daily allotment of 135 minutes. The hope that an email or two will proclaim ‘You’ve got money!’ both stirs and scares me. So far 9 days into my 18 day sanctuary I log in to find … nothing.

I’ve often sad that my optimism mixed with the desperation of my situation created a type of magical thinking, an alternate false reality. Now I face the same dilemma this time mixing in pessimism. My worse case scenario: walking home to be homeless. It took awhile to find a route from the Boston area to the D.C. area without ferries, i.e. tolls. I can’t afford that. I have less than $20 for food as it is at this point.

Finally I asked Google to get me to Scranton, PA then home. No problem. So I’ll alert the media along the way. A labor martyr/unemployed older American/poet has to draw some interest and maybe a meal along the way. That combined with the thought of actually surviving what may be a two week walk makes perfect sense when employing magical thinking.

When I was a child I felt invisible. I used to fantasize about being stabbed during recess and dying happy because everyone noticed me. Well its not recess, and I’m no longer a child but in a sense I am invisible. Most see me but look away. The burden of judgment and the degree of need is just too great for most to handle. If they gave me $20 or even bought my book, it may risk a relationship. When kindness turns into obligation it is transformed into regret. It is better to turn away than to regret. I do receive kind and generous words from some and that keeps me somewhat visible. I’m grateful for that.

As I sit here alone with my words I await the tolling of the bell signaling that the library is open. So I will enter, log in and hope. But off the in distance in the complexity of my hope (or is it fear?) I hear another bell tolling. I am certain that bell tolls for me. Is it the signal of the end or a new beginning?