Yesterday I was pursued and threatened by a homeless schizophrenic on a bicycle. I never scream, but I had to to get the neighbors' attention. I didn't want to find out what happened if he came any closer.
Among all the horribles in those long-short seconds was my dread over what would happen to a black schizophrenic homeless man if he didn't leave before the cops got there. Luckily, he did.
He deserves to feel safe as much as I do.
Obviously, he doesn't.
Obviously, he ISN'T.
The world's effed up, man.
I just wanted to feed the crows, man. I just wanted to have a tranquil afternoon with my dog and my buddy Bo.
Instead I wound up scared and spent the majority of the afternoon indoors.
Wouldn't you know it, when I finally ventured out that evening, my little dog got attacked by a loose lost pit bull.
We were just standing there on the sidewalk. I was filming a baby crow at the time. The video ends with a blurry swirling of growling and screaming as I swung my dog into the air by his leash to pull him out of the jaws of the predatory asshole.
By some miracle Pilot escaped with only a bruise and an hour of panting and trembling, and by some miracle a vet was there, fresh home from work, and looked him over. I did some collapsing on site, then carried him home and finished collapsing in the safety of our tiny apartment.
Needless to say, the next day I called out of work with a mild case of agoraphobia.
Fuck yesterday.
But it is what it is.
Plenty of life left to recover from these traumas while incurring new ones.
At least I have the birds.
I'll always have the birds.
Til global warming kills them, anyway.
That's the spirit!
This is my dark and cathartic entry to the daily #monomad challenge in the Black and White Community, plus my contribution to 
But today I'm off.