Our block is right on the intersection of Kensington and Allegheny. That intersection, better known as K&A, is one of the centers of the national opioid epidemic. Hoping to get a better feel for our neighborhood, I spent some time reading through the Heart of Kensington Neighborhood Plan while we were in quarantine. I’m an analytical thinker, and I hoped that the document could give me an idea of what was going on outside our quarantine bubble.
What I'm Reading
As part of Mission Year, I’ve been on a social media fast. This has been amazing. I hate that I’m saying this, since I’ve always been super annoyed by people blasting out that “they’re quitting facebook” or “are so done with instagram,” but honestly I don’t miss that stuff at all. I don’t even miss Reddit. Sorry about it.
Anyways, since I spent two weeks in quarantine without most of my time-killers, I have been reading a ton (I’ve also been reading way too fast, but that’s a different point).
The Kingdom of Heaven Is
The kingdom of heaven is
Lydia and me, sitting on that stoop
Hunched over crispy pepperoni pizza
Hot oil dripping down my chin
Crack, crack, crack, the sky splits
Once a sound safe on TV
Plays out for us in a blink
And the block empties
Panicked fumbling for keys
The door unlocks, we stumble in
Our safe illusions shattered
What kingdom is this? What heaven?
Lydia is eighteen
Orange Plastic Cap
Orange plastic cap
An indestructible cigarette butt
Hidden in sidewalk cracks
Orange plastic cap
As high-flying dragon memories
Chased by and forgotten
Orange plastic cap
A forbidden berry, glowing bright
Plastic, rendered immaculate
Orange plastic cap
Sinful communion with no wafer
Blood shed, for whom?
Orange plastic cap
Blood red cup with deep dreams
Of bread broken for me
Sep 2, 2020
Jesus the Heroin Addict
On Tuesday, I saw a man injecting heroin. I was at the L, waiting for a train home. I was looking for a way to cross over the tracks and didn’t notice him at first. He was sitting on a bench, hunched over his right arm, as his whole universe collapsed to a 2-inch syringe plunged into his forearm. I walked right by him. I got on my train. I was afraid.
Thoughts on Charity
I’m about to do start Mission Year, and all my thoughts and reflections are turning to action. Push has come to shove. The process so far has been simply preparation, which involves two things: packing up my small apartment in Natick and, more dramatically, raising $8,800. Unlike AmeriCorps, Mission Year asks us to raise a significant amount of our support. It takes about $16,000 to pay for a year’s food and rent in Kensington, and we’re each asked to raise about half of that.
Newsletter Signup
Hi! I’m excited to be starting a newsletter to share my Mission Year Journey. You can sign up for it here, or you can drop your email in the form below:
The Alchemist
About this time last year, as I was finishing college and thinking about entering the “real world,” I realized that I had nowhere to live. To make matters worse, my job was going to be in suburban Massachusetts, about forty-five minutes outside of Boston, and, therefore, about forty-five minutes from anyone I knew. A long commute was out of the question, which meant rooming with someone familiar was out of the question too.
Hello world!
Hi! I’m starting a blog! See my About page for more about me. This started as a side project after I foolishly bought the tomhale.me domain name. Sadly, I didn’t realize that a blog isn’t terribly useful unless you have something useful to say. I can easily get the same relief by screaming any errant thoughts out my window, and almost anything could have been a better use of my money.