| Her full time job was waitress and she was a part-time, occasional student as well. What was interesting was the graffiti, her hobby. She enjoyed the attention, for sure, but I think the danger was the biggest part. She was arrested more than once and the second time I got the middle of the night phone call. When I got to the police station she looked sad and a little embarrassed. The cops had a bag full of highway issue orange spray paintand some gloves. I really wanted to ask what she had written, but I decided to wait until later.
On the drive to her place she sulked in the back seat (wouldn't get in the front) and I stopped at a 7-11 to get some coffee and Milk Duds. When I got back in she stared at me in the mirror and finally said:
Don't you want to know?
Know what, I asked, popping a couple of carmels in my mouth, letting the coffee melt them up.
Know why I did it.
Nope, I said, I want to know what you wrote.
She smiled a little and:
Maybe I should show you
I drove by the fourth street Library and there on the western side of the building were these words, four feet tall, leaning a little left to right,
Say what you will.
I will.
I smiled this time and asked her if she thought people would get it.
Get it? She sniffed, Most of them won't even read it.
I know, but if they read it and try and understand it what do you want them to GET, what are you saying??
Screw em, ....I'm saying what needs to be said, either they listen to their inner voice or they don't, that's not my job...
Why post it then (I couldn't not ask) Why put it up there if you don't want to reach someone?
Because I want the world to know I'm alive, I'm here. They can ignore me but I'm breathing their air, they can't crush me with their apathy!
Pause-background music from cheap car radio-silent stares out the window, into the dark/almost dawn.
Later, soft voice from the backseat, leaned forward:
Can I have a Milk Dud? | 
