Book: Down and out in Paris and London. Page 2

In General, a couple of hours of mad triumphant happiness was worth serious hangover payback. In our district for many, those without families and family not think, weekly of strong booze was the only thing that made this life inhabitable.

Hunger is an absolute softening of the body and the brain, most similar to wild weakness after influenza. As if made of Medusa or blood you pumped out, replaced the lukewarm water.

Poverty eliminates the General rules as well as money from labor.

What a person with brains! Brains out anything you got the money.

To do too much - a great tool to excite pity to itself...

But still something slightly grabbing the poor down and out, I've learned. I'm never going to think about the hobo that they are all drunks and scoundrels, I will not wait for gratitude from the poor, to whom I threw the penny, I will not be surprised at the weakness of those who was fired, will not drop coins in the Cup of the salvation Army, to give up the street from the flyers, and to enjoy refreshments in the chic restaurants. There's a start.

And another feeling, the giving poverty a great comfort. I think everyone who found out how much a pound down and out of this, it is familiar. A sense of relief, almost of satisfaction from the fact that you're finally at the bottom. Often told myself that come, well, that's sunk, and nothing worth. It adds courage.

However, it was not as bad as it seemed. On the outskirts of poverty, among others, make a discovery that balances many others. Recognize and melancholy, and miserable cunning and hunger, but also the greatest redeeming quality of poverty - the future disappears. In a sense, indeed, the less money, the less worries. Only a hundred francs machines in a desperate act of cowardice; the only three francs did not violate General apathy: today three francs will feed you, and tomorrow is too far. Toil melancholy, but not afraid. Vaguely contemplating: "in a few days we'll just have to starve, the horror, huh?" And broken thought fades, crawls off to the side. Bread-and-margarine diet well, I must say, therapeutic.

In General, it is interesting - first the feelings of the poor. Had a presentiment that sooner or later it will catch up, waiting, shy, willing, many times imagined, but in reality all of a sudden. I think, just - no, astounding complexity. I think the nightmare - no, dull grey boredom. And special, purely bednarska wretchedness, which to discover, inevitably learning all sorts of tiny above the niggling.