August 10th, 2005


In which Tats get all introspective and perhaps a little incoherent too

Yesterday as I was walking home along Dixon St I saw two men. The sitting one had a bag in his hand and was plainly sniffing glue. The other was ranting. Not like I rant, or you rant. He was saying "F**king c**ts took away our park. F**k them. Glover Park, c**ts." He was obviously very angry at being kicked out of Glover Park (Glover Park is traditionally where the homeless people hang out, for non-Wellingtonians reading this).

OK nothing unusual about this. But it blew me away that he was unable to articulate his anger any better than swearing and repeating himself. Maybe if he could articulate himself better he wouldn't be homeless and sniffing glue. Or maybe it was the glue-sniffing that made him so confused and inarticulate. Either way, I was shocked. It's easy to see how people get so low when they lose the ability to use language, and it was like a slap in the face to me. It made me think about the path one would take to get from where I am to where he is. Then I thought about my ex-husband, who communicates at that level as a matter of course. It was all a bit surreal and frightened me a little. But it was also good.

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*cough* Ahem, anyway.. two more things.

Bob Dylan crashed my friend's computer! Hee!

And, RIP Foo. At least he went out with a bang, I guess. I'll miss him.