Around noon today while in action towards my desination of downtown Ventura, I observed a homeless man for the minute and 30 seconds that the red light at Thompson permitted. He was young, dark hair, handsome eyes, and was holding a sign explaining his obvious situtation while asking for anything that would be of benefit to him. This is where my American mind began to function. At a constant gaze towards the pavement, he was gently shuddering while appearing to take deep breaths at random intervals. At first thought I chanced at the possibility of this man tripping on some kind of drug, or dizzy from alcohol abuse. At my next thought I considered the possibility of this man crying. He had every reason to be emotional; as he was voluntarily flushing his pride down the societal toilet by employing himself as a financially needy human at the foot of a freeway offramp. Never once did I see the full of his eyes; as for the entire 90 seconds the light allowed me to inspect the man, he kept his head down. After his appearance and actions had been noted, I started at his condition; his life, where he had been and where he was going. Was he educated? A drop out? Did he care? Did his family care? Was everything I had seen all that he had? What did he have? and was it of more value to him than it was to me? Upon an instant I realized how shallow my American mind had been thinking. Materials, appearence, family. I was appalled of the full forty-five seconds I had spent on this man solely in consideration of his shell. Was he happy? Had he ever been happy? At this I began to compare the man with an imaginary, stereotypical unfortunate man from some non-specific foreign country. He had rights, resources, opprotunities, choice; no one was stopping him from what he was doing. In a dozen other countries he would have been considered an absolutely normal citizen, and yet the only that classified him as "different" was the ominous cardboard sign his hands grasped, sprawled with permanent marker and rough around the edges. All of the sudden the red light became green, and in a matter of seconds the wheels of my "old" and "unfashionable" car drove me at an increasing speed away from the man. Leaving me nothing but thoughts of how fucking greedy and materialistic I am, how the majority of people in America are guilty of gluttony, yet how fortunate we are to live in a place where even the homeless have considerable rights. I can't believe I have the audacity to give myself credit for thought. I've ruined everything.