Good Will Donations Center:
“It’s getting really bad out there now. I was on the 405 the other day, this truck was right up my ass. And, you know, I can get heated sometimes, my emotions can get the better of me. So he’s pushing at me. I ease the break a little and it shocks him, it causes him to hit his brakes even harder and step back a little. He looked furious. But you know, who knows what kind of guy he is. He can have a gun on him, you know. These days, you don’t know who’s behind a wheel and what they’re thinking, what their story is.
Two Thanksgivings ago, we lost our cousin to a shooting. He went with my other cousin to get a special ingredient for my mother’s turkey — it’s gotta be a specific brand, you know, the best of the best that truly saves the dish. So he goes to a supermarket that has a line of people waiting out front. And some guy runs right up and shoves himself in line before an older woman. This guy just pushes his way in, no acknowledgment of his behavior, nothing. My cousin tells the guy, in a gentle way ’cause he was always gentle like that, “Hey man, don’t do that. She’s an older lady and has been waiting in line for a while. Come on, man.” Now this guy goes into the supermarket, gets what he needs to, goes back to a car full of other sketchy guys. They drive around the supermarket maybe a couple of times until they see my cousin walking to his car. They drive up to him, wind down the window, bang-bang!, shoot him two times.
How can someone get over that, you know? It haunts me. But it also stops me from firing up as much these days, you know. My mother always told me, ‘Mijo, be patient. Let them do what they gotta do but don’t let them get to you.’ She was right. And I’m trying you know. I really am.”
Wise words from the Buddhist master, Thích Nhất Hạnh:
“When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That’s the message he is sending.”
He’s a burly man. Strong voice, 80s New York accent.
Big personality. Vibrant and ecstatic to be near his friend.
He talks about flying in from a job, being put up in a hotel tomorrow night, can I crash with you guys tonight?
I’m surprised you’d want to do that.
Thank you for wanting to.
He talks this job and that job, what’s in the horizons and pitting this one against that one.
“Angela is in San Diego doing a play, I had to come back for meetings until Friday and then we fly back to NY in 4 days.”
Let’s go for dinner.
Yes, of course.
Thank you for thinking of us.
We’ll take you to our favorite sushi joint, you’ll love it.
“This is the letter that Mitch McConnell doesn’t want you to hear. It was written by Coretta Scott King and it is about #JeffSession. I don’t believe anyone should be forced to keep quiet in our government. That goes for anyone, on any side of the aisle. And I think it’s crazy I even have to type that sentence.” – Bernardo Cubria
We saw her as a typical waiter going through the protocols of a new table with unfamiliar faces. I noticed she had a warm smile.
She told us the specials and then I asked completely off subject, “Are the Oscars your thing?”
A spell was broken. She really looked at me and said, “They are, very much so.”
Could’ve been my emotions running amok, but my heart choked and oozed all over the place.
My eyes welled and held back tears with so much pressure.
I knew it, before she said anything.
Suddenly we were sisters.
“Me too,” I struggled to say.
“Did you watch all the movies?” She asked.
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Dream Deferred, by Langston Hughes