April is the Cruelest Month

who knows where that comes from? No one I know in my current life. I have no literary friends anymore...trying to explain my dog's name is like trying to reason with a Unicorn. not important, but a factor that haunts me a bit. I was always so smart and appreciated for it. Now it is like a candle in the wind. So April , the cruelest month(google it!) Most all the people I know, friends, acquaintances, everyone is sick , has been hurt or damaged or is dying more rapidly than expected. Or have asked me for money...The closest in love(Max) and proximity I am providing care.And have loaned all the available money I have. I am devastated emotionally and financially. Back to balancing on the head of a pin...something I thought would lessen with age and , oh laugh away, wisdom. I have made plans to travel, before I knew I would be loaning all my available cash. I am ready to leap, and I am hoping that the DR will remain in my physical world. And that I can resume distancing myself from everyone that is nursing off me, and I can stand up again. I know that part of this is my fault but not as much as I would like. Everyone is so needy. And if I build walls I may exclude the good people in my life, the ones I do know and the peripherals that are not after me or my wallet. And then there's family, blood, high school reunions, the never ending parties with superficial white people. I have taken to shutting myself off, turning my cell phone off(the only good thing) and declining the fishbowl invites. I hate to let go of the impetuous. the stepping out over the line. how much can i afford to lose? I have always gambled on my fellow man, especially here where their needs are more basic and raw, I can help. I do so want to retain my happiness, love for my neighbors, peace with my environment. Once lines are drawn, there is no erasing them, even in the sand they remain.And that is the joy of living here, while I am viewed as an endless supply of funds, I can give small amounts and change lives. On the walk home today two sweet little boys asked me for "money" and showed off their pigeon English. I am in running clothes, no place for money and I gave them a lecture about asking, but it is life everywhere. Even the rich whiteys have asked for money when they need it. I feel like the only person in the country who has worked out a plan , in spite of being dealt a shitty hand . Why can't others? Financially and Emotionally bereft. So, I say goodbye to old friends, my dear Max, who takes with him my past. And the door swings open .