Home by 2am with very aching feet. Who’d be a courier?
February 11, 1975
A person I knew loved lying as much as he or she hated being lied to. Another person I knew could not express her or his self from a spirit of gratitude. Another person I knew wanted people – people: let’s not call them children encouraged to read her or his blog and write her or him their heartfelt testimonies – to think she or he was against US Capital-I Imperialism. But this she or he was as much a President Arroyo to another Smith. She or he will never even give Nicole an oh so sorry. One of all the people I will ever know was touted a peace lover and would make love with the outrage that would rise from the pit of her or his stomach. Another person I knew would assure him or her, “It is not fear. You are righteous. It was a liar who said Dennis forgave you, you who were loved. Not yet such a thing as quits.” Another person I knew lost a phone and wanted everyone to make the intuitive leap and believe camouflaged fingers took it. Another person I knew would ask this person with kidnapped or hostaged phone, “have you read his blog?” One way or another. One day or another. God knows it is possible she or he would have the mind to do even this. Another person I knew would think I was – all along – writing about her or him.