This is an odd set. For some reason, we're the choice for quotes these days, it seems.

Quotes by Deitrich Bonhoeffer (#1 ??)

quotes Louis L'amour (#4)

This one is just weird:
er. ..

This is from an undated journal entry I found while cleaning up my old laptop.

On my way to catch a bus, I saw a woman kneeling on the ground. She was crying, staring at her hands, palms up, splayed fingers. There was a policeman patting her on the shoulder and telling her to calm down. Her hands were grey, chalky. Had she fallen? Was she having a heart attack? First time on acid? Heroin withdrawal? I was walking right towards them. I made a quick survey of the situation. Would it be OK to walk by or should I cross the street? I decided to walk by. The woman was crying, incoherent, hysterical. She was shaking her upturned hands and seemingly directing her choking words directly at them. The policeman was simply kneeling down next to her, patting her shoulder, telling her to calm down. I walked by. I wondered briefly why policemen are always telling people to calm down. I noticed that he wasn't saying, "You'll be alright. It's going to be ok," only, "Calm down."

From the Opening of the Heart newsletter:

Voices in Wartime will be broadcast on TV, starting next week - both nationally and in Washington, DC.

Nationally on Link TV - available from DIRECTV® satellite Channel 375 and Echostar DISH® Network satellite Channel 9410

Last night, I had the opportunity to attend an art show. The artist in question is very talented . Her paintings are, in my very uneducated opinion, the sort that really qualify as "art." In other words, they mean something. Someone might buy one of her paintings because it spoke to them, because what it said to them was deeply important and perhaps difficult for them to express in any other way themselves. These are not the type of images which one might simply buy, oh.. because the colors match the couch in the back room.

Latest and greatest! Not surprisingly:
MSN Sucks (#2 with a bullet)

Some of the others are gradually righting themselves, but keep an eye on this space for new and interesting bits of stupidity.

I spend a great deal of time thinking about things that have no noticable relevance to whatever it is I happen to actually be doing. Lately, I have been thinking about poetry. I have not been writing poetry, just thinking about it.

I am having a hard time getting started today. I took the 8:30 bus this morning, the one the kids at the alternative school take. They always sit in the back of the bus, a small mob of them. The talk very loudly and shout each other down and basically act like kids, to an extent. It's the content of their conversations that I find depressing. Yesterday, one girl was complaining that her drug dealer tried to charge her for so many ounces when clearly HER scale showed so many more. I gathered that she was not simply purchasing for personal use. This morning, there was a lively discussion about who among the "hustlers" may be a snitch. Apparently, several of them had been picked up by the police recently. There was some suspicion about a few who managed to get released without charges.

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