"...I hope for it and I will be very happy for it to happen."
Many times I was crushed in spirit and yearned for death. I dreamed of it for years while I was held in captivity as a slave. My heart was broken, I was betrayed by everyone I loved, abandoned by a god I had trusted. Everything I owned, worth >$1M today, was stolen by fraud. Some nights I dreamed I was drowning deep in a pool of endless grief. Some nights I dreamed of fighting God, whom I could never reach because He was behind an infinite wall as smooth as glass. After years of this dream the wall became like Jello, into which I could plunge, but then became trapped and unable to move. I believed my worst enemy was hope, because when my hope was crushed I was plunged into despair, which was far worse than expecting nothing. I sought to be without hope, to expect nothing good. I meditated and breathed in all the hate around me, keeping it all in, and exhaling the love, mercy, and foolish faith I believed made me weak and caused my betrayal. When I was released after years of captivity I retreated to the woods, where I lived alone for some time. Eventually I tired of solitude and penury, and sought work and a place to live in town, where, like you, I found no one good and nothing worthwhile.
One day I was utterly destitute, and needed $5 without which I was unwilling to continue to suffer. I lived in a tool trailer I had made by teaching myself to weld bed frames together and scraps of materials I had scavenged off job sites and rented a place for it for $100 a month. No one was going to come to my home and give me what I needed, so I went door to door and asked for any honest work that would pay me that day. I do not know how many doors I knocked on. I went up every street and knocked on the doors of every house and business.
When I came to an art gallery and asked for any honest work that would pay that day, the owner had me clean the pedestals and cabinets. He paid me $20 and told me to come back the next day. I continued to work for him until he died from the covid jabs a couple years ago. I remember him every day. He saved my life. He forced me to be glad to be alive. While I worked for him from time to time, I also worked for his neighbors, who needed their lawns mowed, their fences repaired, plumbing, and etc, and I gradually came to work for certain neighborhoods where my reputation as a skilled craftsman and honest, hard worker was known. I am disabled and in constant pain from injury to my back, but I have learned to move carefully and not to repeat the injury, and to do things right the first time so I don't have to undo them, and then do them again, because I am lazy and don't like causing me more pain than I have to suffer.
I no longer dream of death, and I often do work for people without any expectation of pay, but everyone, no matter how old, infirm, or poor insists on giving me something. I am very grateful for the many meals I have been provided in this way. The day I cleaned the roof I ate bread made of squash I grew and eggs from a local farmer, made by an ailing barmaid I have helped often, who added nuts and dried fruit. I scavenge job sites for materials to give to people that need them, like steps I made for her, and along the way I have discovered that sometimes the people I help have friends and families that aren't poor, and are grateful I helped their loved one. Sometimes their families are thieves and robbers, who will not rob or steal from me, because I helped their mother, sister, or friend. The man whose roof I cleaned with a toothbrush, even though it was 40C that day, cannot pay me now, but he will sell that house, and he yearns to pay me for what I do for him, although I tell him I just want him to get his house sold. Today I did some chores for a little old lady, and she will let me use her pressure washer this Sunday to finish washing the roof of my friend, so he can list his house for sale on Monday.
In these last seven years after I came out of the woods, I have gone from a pariah to a beloved helper of little old ladies, old men whose strength has gone, the poor, and broken people, and am widely admired by many who used to slander me in gossip that was entirely lies, or who only know me from my work helping people. Eventually this goodwill enabled me to ask people who were not poor to pay my bills instead of paying me money. Such help is not taxed. A friend of someone I helped sold me a home for $100. It was in terrible neglected condition, but it was better than the tool trailer, so I went to work and fixed it as best I could and live in it now, where I can hear the surf of the ocean. Banks and adulterous wives cannot swindle me out of my goodwill. It cannot be taxed, stolen, inflated, or lost in the wash. Everywhere I go, people are happy to see me because I am happy to help them without hope of pay. It is hard to be miserable when people are happy to see you.
I do not know what you can do to help people in need, but I can tell you that doing so creates goodwill in the community, and that goodwill can be a lifeline that can save your life, even to make it worth living. I know that because that is what creating goodwill has done for me.
Interesting story, the truth is very motivating, I think that where you live people are more inclined to offer jobs, here it is much more difficult, people are distrustful and you are rarely going to get something, believe me, I have tried for a long time my dear.
And regarding helping the needy, yes I have done it many times, here is one of those, he is Alejandro, a homeless man on the street, who helped and received support for the video I showed, here you can see it, this was ago 6 years old, he already died, shot and killed by a trafficker. He lived on the street, he was homeless, and on more than one occasion I gave him food, I let him sleep in my home and I shared with him, even when he robbed me and even allowed my own home to be robbed, after all the trust I gave him. Even so he helps him.
Note: you can set subtitles on english en each video
And also this lady who needed food and insulin and got it through donations, in those days I could walk much better than now, it's hard for me to move:
And so did many other people, including a drunk from the area for whom I also got food.
Here the community only helped me on one occasion when I couldn't walk, but what they did was call a doctor only to treat me, but the rest of the 7 months that I spent lying in bed without being able to walk, I had to deal with it for myself. alone, crawling on the ground, like a snake, to get things done...
People around here think in a different way, everyone is in their own way my friend.