(print version)

PART I: SUMMER, 2022

DAY AFTER I QUIT MY JOB AT A FAST FOOD RESTAURANT:

on my way to get a job application from a convenience store, under the shade of a tree sitting on the ledge of the sidewalk, a man with a loaded shopping cart seeks shelter from the heat. I kneel down next to him, ask if he’s unhoused, and he says he is. And the rest of the scene goes something like this:

ME: Would you like some cash?

HIM: Sure.

ME: (takes out all the cash I have, which is four dollars)

I know it’s not much, but I figured you could get yourself a drink or something. If you want I can watch your stuff for you while you do that.

HIM: No, it’s too hot outside...

ME: It’s alright, don’t worry about it, I don’t really have anywhere to be. I was just heading down the street to get a job application.

(Unemployment blesses you with free time. Of course, if you’re part of the proletariat, your time isn’t truly free. You have as much free time as you have free access to money to pay for the costs of living under capitalism. So really, you’re on borrowed time, borrowing against your own breath.)

HIM: Oh...well, I can buy you something at the store if you want?

(tries to give me some of my own cash back)

ME: No, that’s okay.

HIM: Are you sure?

ME: Yeah.

He leaves and I sit to wait by his cart. People mistake me as unhoused and accordingly avoid me.

After about an hour he returns with an empty grocery bag and tells me the drinks spilled open on his way back. I tell him it’s okay, then leave and get my job application. We smile and wave at each other as I pass him once more on my way home.

(END OF SCENE.)

FALL, 2022, INTERMISSION

The convenience store ghosts me. The man from the summer is nowhere to be seen, but still he haunts me. Why

did he try to give back to me my own cash—as if I would seriously need it as much as him? Somewhere

in our interaction the material hierarchy between me and him had the illusion

of breaking down. Somehow, we socially acted as if this material hierarchy between us

ceased to matter— even though it had yet to be materially

destroyed.

(In leftist circles endless discourse exists over the concept of mutual aid—over how it differs from charity, over how it is (or isn’t exclusively) anarchist, over its end goals (if any at all). I contemplated a new, personal definition, formed from my interaction with the man from the summer:)

MUTUAL AID

IS TO GIVE AND RECEIVE

AID WITH MUTUAL CARE

FOR EACH OTHER’S WELLBEING.

(Mutual care. It couldn’t just be a one-sided transaction, or a one-sided offering to be accepted or ignored. You and the other person had to establish a social relationship with each other—and that social relationship had to be reciprocal.)

(And then I wondered if I had willfully read too much into my interaction with him. Perhaps this was all just a projection of my anarchist ideals and nothing had happened. With this suspicion I shelved my definition back into the recesses of my mind, and didn’t return to it much again for the next few months.)

PART II: WINTER, 2022

NIGHT AFTER FINISHING MY SHIFT AT A SIT-DOWN RESTAURANT:

on my way home, I pass by an unhoused encampment where a resident is cooking something over a fire. I call out to him, he comes over, and I ask if he wants cash. And the rest of the scene goes something like this:

HIM: Hey, I think I recognize you. Didn’t I meet you last summer on the sidewalk? It was a really hot day.

ME: (pleasantly surprised that 1. he’s alive and 2. that he recognizes me)

Oh, yeah, yeah, I remember.

(takes out all the cash I have, which is forty something dollars)

I got a job. Hey, is there anything you guys need help with around here?

HIM: (pauses to think for a moment)

Well, we need help taking out our trash to get dumped at this place.

ME: I don’t have a car, but I could help out with labor?

HIM: Oh, no, there are guys who live here and they should be responsible for doing that. Thanks though.

(We smile and fistbump each other and I leave. The scene doesn’t end here. Every time I pass by the camp I search for him or another resident I can speak to, to offer more cash or more help where needed, but our times of activity fail to align.)

(Then one night, I see their entire camp has disappeared—every trace of existence, almost completely erased. In its place, I see nothing left but bare, spotless ground—unnaturally cleaned.)

THE SCENE DOESN’T END HERE;

IT GETS REPLAYED

AGAIN

AND AGAIN

AND AGAIN

MY FORMER COMRADE:

(who did mutual aid food distribution for unhoused people)

Every time on our route we see people disappear and we don’t know what happens to them.

(We did repeat sweeps defense for another unhoused encampment, which almost cost me the job I had back then, because I kept abruptly calling out of work. These are the stakes we’re up against: you secure time for your own life by agreeing to do nothing while others die.)

(This is the problem we’re up against: revolution or suicide. Mutual aid is not enough when capitalism materially forces us to kill ourselves to save each other. But until revolution across and beyond all borders fully succeeds, we all should share this burden of risking death—from each according to their own degree of security that is complicity, and to each according to their own degree of crisis that is existence.)

(Capitalism steals our time. But what it can never fully steal is our potential for SOLIDARITY—our potential to RECIPROCATE SUPPORT FOR EACH OTHER. Mutual aid is not enough, but the power to do more than mutual aid is what we can strive to achieve. In these haunting times, let this future yet fulfilled by our potential become one more ghost with no cause to disappear.)

互助：二部曲的段子

（影印版）

第一部：2022 年，夏天

辭掉快餐店工作後第一天：

在我去便利商店拿工作申請表的路上，在人行道旁的樹的陰影下，坐著一位帶著裝滿東西的購物車在避暑的男人。我跪在它旁邊，問他是不是無家可歸，他說是。然後接下來，剩下的情形大概是這樣：

我：想要現金嗎？

他：好啊。

我：（把所有的現金都拿出來，總共有四塊）

我知道不多，可是我想說你大概可以去買個飲料吧。如果你要的話，去買的時候我可以幫你看好你的東西。

他：不用，天氣太熱了…

我：沒關係，別擔心，我沒有什麼事情要去做。只是要跑過去拿個工作申請表而已。

（失業的祝福是能有自由時間。當然，如果你是無產階級，你的時間不是真正自由的。有多少自由使用錢來付在資本系統之下的生活費，就有都少自由時間。所以其實，你是在苟延殘喘，以自己的命來做抵押。）

他：喔…那麼，去的時候我可以幫你買個東西？

（正想把我自己的錢還一份給我）

我：不用，沒關係。

他：確定嗎？

我：確定。

他離開，我坐在他購物車旁等。人們誤會我是街友並躲著我。

過了大概一個小時之後他帶著一個空空的雜貨袋回來，跟我說飲料在路上掉出來了。我跟他說沒關係，然後再離開去拿我的工作申請表。回家在路上又碰面的時候我們互相微笑打個招呼。

（結束場景。）

2022 年，秋天，中場休息

便利商店 像鬼一樣不回。夏天的男人 無處可見，可是他仍然 在冤纏我。為什麼

他想還我 我的錢—似乎像是我真的 會跟他有一樣的需要？在某一段

互動之中 我跟他之間 的物質等級制度 有了崩潰

的錯覺。以某種方式， 我們在社交的方面假設 我們之間這物質 的等級制度

不足為慮— 就算 在物質方面 它還沒

被消滅。

（在左派圈子中有不停的話語在討論互助的概念—討論它怎麼樣跟施捨有不同、討論它是（或不只是）無治主義的實踐、討論它最後的目標（如果目標是有的話）。我考慮到一個新，個人的定義，從我和夏天那男人的互動形成出來的：）

互助

就是提供和收下

有互相關心的幫助

為了彼此的福利。

（互相關心。不能只是單面的送交，或是被接受或不理的單面捐獻物。你和另一個人必須在社交方面建立關係—而且那社交關係必須是相互的。）

（然後我又想說我是不是想太多，錯誤地認為我和他的互動有什麼意思。或許我都只是在投射自己的無治理想，而事實上什麼都沒發生。有了這懷疑我在腦海的最深處擱置了我的定義，直到幾個月之後才又開始想起來。）

第二部：2022 年，冬天

從桌邊服務餐廳下班之後的晚上：

回家的路上，我經過一個街友營地，之中一位居民在營火邊煮些東西。我向他喊，他過來，我問他要不要點現金。然後接下來，剩下的情形大概是這樣：

他：誒，你看起來有點面熟。我們不是上次夏天在人行道上碰過面嗎？那天熱的很。

我：（驚喜發現 1. 他還活著 2. 他還記得我）

喔對，對啊，我記得。

（把所有的現金都拿出來，總共有四十幾塊）

我找到工作了。欸，你們這裡有沒有什麼事情需要幫忙的？

他：（想想一下）

嗯，我們垃圾需要幫忙搬出去地方丟。

我：我沒車，可是我可以幫忙搬？

他：喔不，這裡有人住，這應該是他們的責任。但謝謝你。

（我們面著笑容擊拳告別，我便離開。場景並不在這裡結束。每次我路過營地我都會去找他或別的居民聊聊天，看能不能提供更多的現金或幫助，可是我們活動的時間都一直錯開。）

（然後有一晚，我看到他們整個營地都消失了—每一個存在的痕跡，幾乎完全都被清除。在它的位置，唯一剩下的只有赤裸，一塵不染的土地—不自然創造的乾淨。）

場景並不在這裡結束；

它是在被重播

一遍

又一遍

再一遍

我的前同志：

（是為了互助分發食物給街友的人）

每次在我們的路線上我們會發現有消失的人，而且都不知道他們是發生了什麼事。

（我們曾經一起幫另外一個街友營地做清除防護，差點害我失去那時候的工作，因為我一直突然請假。這就是我們面對的情況：你為了讓自己的生命獲得時間得同意什麼都不做地讓別的人去死。）

（這就是我們面對的問題：革命或自殺。當資本系統在物質方面強迫我們為了救別人犧牲自己的時候，互助是不夠的事。可是直到跨越和超越界線的革命得到了完全的順利，我們該一起負冒險死亡的責任—各以自己的保障程度，也就是以同謀，盡所能、各以自己的危機程度，也就是存在，取所需。）

（資本系統偷走了我們的時間。但它永遠不能完全偷走的就是我們團結的潛力—我們互相回報支持的潛力。互助是不夠的事，可是我們能盡力獲得比互助做更多的權力。在這充滿冤纏的時代，讓這未被我們潛力實現的未來變成再一個無理失蹤的幽靈。）