But For The Grace

Of the people I see while out and about, a good number are in some respect odious or objectionable. There are some bad guys and luckless vagrants. I feel some measure of compassion for them, and imagine myself being in precisely their shoes had things gone a different way (and they easily could have, I feel). As affected as I can be by seeing such people, there is a particular kind of man who really leaves me shaken.

This type I speak of suggests himself to me not as what I might have been today but for lucky breaks, but as what I may yet become in the future should I fail to continue receiving such fortune as I have. Certain things mark this person. He is old, alone and pitiable for the fact that he is using public transportation at his age as much as for his shabbiness. Most importantly though, he has the trappings of being as bright and quick-witted as I consider myself to be.

Essentially I see him as being exactly who and where I am, except that he is thirty or some years older. Every time I see his like, I shudder and am stricken with the fear that I will drift into his place merely by dint of passing years. I think of speaking to him in hopes of gaining some insight to insure myself against that. Perhaps I would find him lucid and wistful, eager to keep me from his fate. Maybe that would be the pivotal moment of my life.

Maybe instead though I would find that I was terribly mistaken, and that appearances aside he is nothing like I am or ever could be. Maybe he's in his place due to mental derangement or something else that never could happen to me. It's encouraging to think so, but probably it is still a mistake to think that I am guaranteed by anything or anyone to never fall so low as he seems to me. I must guard against it with all the vigor I can muster, because it feels far too possible for my liking.