I wish the universe were smaller so I could put in on my bed and fall asleep all tangled up with it the way we always did when you meant everything to me.
I wish I could ride a bike and overcome my fear of everything (and ride away from you).
I wish I could bake all the suffering in the world into a pie and make you smile again.
I wish the sun would come up in the west for just one day so I could wake up backwards and undo all the mistakes I made while I was sleeping.
But then you would win, and sacrifice would mean nothing.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
Society owes an apology to St. Patrick
I think it's safe to presume that Saint Patrick didn't intend for a day in his honor to be spent getting wasted. He's probably is turning in his grave.
Even the city itself looked hung over yesterday. I'd hadn't seen anything that even slighly resembled smog in this city until yesterday, because the wind blows so much. But yesterday it seemed that Nature itself called in sick.
I woke up bright-eyed (though somewhere around noon) and thankful. I felt lucky to be alive, if for no other reason than that fact that I'd survived the drive home 10 hours earlier.
"Call 911!" I saw Nick go for the phone, so I manuevered my car safely through the smoke and debri, hit the flashers and raced back towards the crash. I hadn't seen the little blue Corolla actually spin out and smash through the guardrail, but it couldn't have happened more than a few seconds before we arrived. The two people in the car seemed ok -though shaken and probably a little scratched up since they had to climb out the window. I was thankful to see them get out of the car alive, but my heart sank when I saw how drunk they were. They refused any help, and wouldn't listen when we told them to stay away from the car, because with all the fluids leaking from it we couldn't be sure that it wouldn't blow. I refused to leave them until the cops and the ambulance arrived. They will be sore, hung-over, and very sorry in the morning, but I hope they learned something from this.
I don't know if it is luck 'o the Irish, but they should be dead.
Driving 45 minutes back to Lincoln Park was like picking my way through a minefield. I watched 8 people get busted and saw two more accidents. I was scared, sickened, and sad for all these people - but mostly just angry. It was so needlessly dangerous. I'm not known for responsibility - with alcohol or with much else, but I do know when I can't drive. Do they not know better? I can't really believe that.
Maybe it was only one lapse of judgement, one drink too many. And I know from my own experiences in making mistakes that it only takes one. But I have this suspicion that this wasn't the case with all of them.
Needless to say I was depressed because I got a faceful of this ugly nature of man to stupidly do what he has no reason to believe is right, under any circumstance. I don't have a ton of faith in people to do what is right. I know myself too well to believe that. But where does this end and where can we as a society start to change behaviors that are killing us? Freedom was turned terrible by depravity. Can we do nothing but spiral downward?
A question for the ages...ironically, it makes me feel like I need a drink.
Even the city itself looked hung over yesterday. I'd hadn't seen anything that even slighly resembled smog in this city until yesterday, because the wind blows so much. But yesterday it seemed that Nature itself called in sick.
I woke up bright-eyed (though somewhere around noon) and thankful. I felt lucky to be alive, if for no other reason than that fact that I'd survived the drive home 10 hours earlier.
"Call 911!" I saw Nick go for the phone, so I manuevered my car safely through the smoke and debri, hit the flashers and raced back towards the crash. I hadn't seen the little blue Corolla actually spin out and smash through the guardrail, but it couldn't have happened more than a few seconds before we arrived. The two people in the car seemed ok -though shaken and probably a little scratched up since they had to climb out the window. I was thankful to see them get out of the car alive, but my heart sank when I saw how drunk they were. They refused any help, and wouldn't listen when we told them to stay away from the car, because with all the fluids leaking from it we couldn't be sure that it wouldn't blow. I refused to leave them until the cops and the ambulance arrived. They will be sore, hung-over, and very sorry in the morning, but I hope they learned something from this.
I don't know if it is luck 'o the Irish, but they should be dead.
Driving 45 minutes back to Lincoln Park was like picking my way through a minefield. I watched 8 people get busted and saw two more accidents. I was scared, sickened, and sad for all these people - but mostly just angry. It was so needlessly dangerous. I'm not known for responsibility - with alcohol or with much else, but I do know when I can't drive. Do they not know better? I can't really believe that.
Maybe it was only one lapse of judgement, one drink too many. And I know from my own experiences in making mistakes that it only takes one. But I have this suspicion that this wasn't the case with all of them.
Needless to say I was depressed because I got a faceful of this ugly nature of man to stupidly do what he has no reason to believe is right, under any circumstance. I don't have a ton of faith in people to do what is right. I know myself too well to believe that. But where does this end and where can we as a society start to change behaviors that are killing us? Freedom was turned terrible by depravity. Can we do nothing but spiral downward?
A question for the ages...ironically, it makes me feel like I need a drink.
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