came home and thought about my post from saturday, how maybe
emphasizing flames and shards only feeds the worst
narratives about what's going on, but it was an
accurate portrait of the confusions both internal
and external, the muddled mess of emotion that the
city as an organism expresses, finds reflected
within the individual. monday
was also terrible, as police escalated violence
even as the justifications for it diminished.
things looked bleak, lacking clarity, befogged as
if by a
cloud of teargas. whereas the cops knew
exactly what to do—inflict random punishment.
so, quiet night at home, was scrolling through twitter
for news of what was happening
when the walls seemed to dissolve
as cheering and shouts could be heard from a
nearby street. sarah leapt out of bed and we went
out our building's
back door to see a
crowd of hundreds massed out on 15th in front of
the pre-emptively boarded up QFC supermarket.
difference a day makes! the curfew was lifted and
there were no cops to be seen. everyone was
peaceful and you could feel the love
in the air, the beauty of strength in numbers
when it's focused on the positive. this zip code
is one of the richest in the country (sarah
& i drag down the average), with grand
houses and a number of full-blown
robber baron mansions, but the residents had
nothing to fear because the march just flowed
through it like water.