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Wednesday, 5 April, 2006

I’m only now back up to the point where I can talk about things. Had I been as aware of my condition as I sometimes believe, I would have politely declined. I actually thought being with people might help. I should have at least said something, but I was without civil words.

Precious few in my vicinity last night were people I would remotely consider hiding in the attic; to the contrary. That I was with people who found some value being on their territory without some kind of traditional weaponry or toxic gasses was more than I could handle. The idea that I am supposed to aspire to the bourgeoisie or put up with their antics for more than a few seconds every few years encourages this white man’s innate desire for genocide. I cannot and shall not take more than drops of this.

I shut down and walked home. When I gained control I was heading up the sidewalk on Kinney. I cannot communicate just how much I despise this neighborhood. When the missiles come, I will laugh.

For the record I would have turned around and walked home if we were in Dallas. If we were much further away than that, I would have rented an apartment.


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