"In order to know virtue, we must acquaint ourselves with vice. Only then can we know the true measure of a man. "

Tonight I got to ask a mother in LA about one of her little twins while they were talking, reading books, and whining around her while she spoke: at one point, one mocked the answer that her mother was telling me, which I had read off to her initially. When she told them she was speaking to a nice lady, it seemed to heighten their attempt at getting me to notice them, alas: louder talking, them finding reasons to bug their mom just to be heard. (I think she hinted that this wasn't the first time...) Made me think of when I used to 'hang out' with my mother when on the phone, but would literally sit in her lap and play with her face/do her hair. (She didn't seem to care too much, she was always on the phone. ;] ) Suffice to say, it was a definite cheer up.

Watched the movie Quills in the late evening, which was about The Marquis de Sade, whom while sequestered away in a secluded (Napoleonic era) Paris asylum, wrote of 'the pain of love and the love of pain.' The patients got me thinking of the homeless here... and how it would be something to give at least one of them the chance to a fine suit or enough to clean up (at the very least) so they could get one solid attempt at a job search. Random connection, I know, but when I walked home from Gabys, I saw a man all wrapped up asleep in the bus stop and felt a pang. I really don't like being seen as a jerk to them when I tell them I'm just as poor as them, I just admittedly say so. I use all my change. One bum-out to not working at a restaurant anymore, not being able to give constant leftovers to them. That always worked out well. (At least I knew where it was going - to their belly, not their liver.)

Really have to encourage myself to get up early tomorrow, even though it's already 3:30am. long shifts apparently equal even more insomnia, who knew.

"I write what I see, the endless procession to the guillotine. We're all lined up, waiting for the crunch of the blade... the rivers of blood are flowing beneath our feet... I've been to hell young man, you've only read about it." - MDS