it's feb.5,911am. windy and cold. on the ride to walk mister i saw an autopilot nearly run down a man with a leg brace and crutches in the middle of the crosswalk at the same exact place where an autopilot almost ran me and mister over when i kicked her car and she got out and knocked my glasses off. he swung his crutches wide to the sides like a crippled bird with bones for wings. it's a civilization of savagery. waiting by the elevator i thought i would not fight today, i would not struggle against the civilized entropy, i would flow. but it is a real art to flow in this chaos of obstacles and powerful vehicles charging in great haste, entitlement and implicit violence, and sometimes the art of living fairly deserts me.