July First

In the march yesterday, unlike last year, I was no longer a participant, but an observer. I stared at the protestors on the street like Darla staring at Nemo in the fish-tank. I asked myself, if it was not for my job, would I still attend the carnival-liked event this year? I do not know.

My rage, perhaps, sank to the bottom with the weight of the pollutants in the air on this day of July First.















After running around in the heat for 5 hours and having work till 1am, I, unbelievably, had another insomnia night. I picked up "11'09"01, September 11" and finished half of it. Too much humanity for me.