Fret About It
Ah, yes. How much is the war in Iraq going to cost? My guess is the costs will parallel the costs of Vietnam: a period of inflation, of recession, of problems caused by spending more on bombs and bullets than we have the taxes. But what do I know? (What do I care?) Here in Oakland.
You've been listening to public radio again, haven't you? Little sound loops that rattle around in your brain causing confusion.
Yes, yes. The mind does wander. Thoughts that need more development before they should ever see the light. The weekend is coming. What to do? The same things I did last weekend? Poking my nose out of the apartment, but just barely? A walk along streets I've walked a hundred times with a camera without taking a shot? There are a million pictures in a million places starting with the place I'm standing, the failure to shoot is a personal failure, not a failure of opportunity or geography. The world is full of pictures if the shooter can but see them. Deedle-dee-dee them. You just don't want to fret about it.
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