Ten at night. No pathway is the same twice and silence is the greatest listener. One person who can't stand silence can't listen either. Tonight the crows were crowding the stoplights crying out their terrible cries in a chorus of black laughter. I noticed the ceiling fan at the diner and felt immediately that I lack the sense of being at home everywhere I had when I was a child. But tonight I was. A muslim couple walked into the diner and I immediately felt...what is for them here? As I  drove home I wondered if they were out having a last supper the night before they gave up on the whole wide world for the sake of their two little infinite souls. Should I have sat down and talked to them? Should I have a conversation with what terrifies me? Are my fears reasonable? Maybe terror is a desparation of sorts. A searching for a reason not to hate and not to feel completely hopeless. Maybe what threatens to destroy us is really begging for us to give it a reason not to. But that is something nobody can give I suppose. It has to be obtained by each one alone. A sense of what it is to be human can not be behaved or acted perhaps. So if tommorrow they do destroy themselves and others, I suppose I am guilty of not even trying to give them a reason to see that I am worth keeping. And I guess I would be guilty for everything else that happened. Am I crazy?