Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly... All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise... blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

I stopped in at "el casa de morgana y kerstin" or as I'm beginning to refer to it as "the Suzanna Roettger Memorial Drop In Center" this morning to pick up the laptop and head over to Bob's for what is becoming my daily chai and internet roundup. Across the street the neighbors were having some sort of domestic situation. When I pulled up on my bike, I noticed a large stocky man in a white tshirt and jeans walking slowly and purposefully down the street. He didn't make eye contact with me as I passed him and it looked as if he might involuntarily bust out of his clothes at any minute and start bashing the cars that lined the street ala the Hulk. All was quiet until I got up to the apartment and then the yelling started. I've heard this kind of yelling before at the same location and everytime I start to wonder whether or not I should call someone about it. But really this just doesn't seem to be the kind of thing that one calls about - because who would you call except the police and since he isn't actually physically damaging anything there really isn't much to do. Instead I just remain uncomfortable and look out the window for a minute or two to assess the situation. There is a woman, late twenties, in a sweatshirt and jeans sitting on the back step of the apartment building who seems to be waiting it out. My first reaction is that it is good she is outside, probably safer there in the broad daylight than inside the darkness of the crumbly brick building. And yet there is more yelling. It is all coming from the man who I previously saw walking down the street. I don't see who he is yelling at and in fact I think that his anger is most likely directed at either someone still in the apartment, the woman on the step or himself. In a moment an older woman will grab the arm or a little girl, hair in braids, maybe two years old, yell at her to get back in the building and when she resists will smack the back of her head. As I leave the apartment building the man is still pacing out on the street and yelling. I can't tell what he is saying but that really doesn't seem to be the point.

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