Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 57

B"H the authorities who fight crime; it is inconceivable that toxic drugs are being distributed unless sanctioned by the worthiness of suc h pursuits to those that want masses doped into inaction against societal abuses. Without elaboration, let's say that the owner of the coffee shop in the bus station informed the police that there's a man lingering, who he suspects of being a suicide bomber. Maybe he's a hit m an who's there to target (anti-gravitate) somebody who he expects to board the next public transport vehicle into outer space. The police must react, and if not immediately, certainly, within two hours. You'd think they could have sent a street enforce ment law-patro l who would courteously ask, "What’s the deal, bub? Got business here or gotta be rolling, you know ; laws against lingering." In the digital age, these conversations have to be progra mmed , no menta l exertion; the use of phraseology has us pushing buttons on the telephony devises in order to hear replies to our enquiries . I was sitting quite near to the curb so, any car could have jus t driven by and have a good look at me, which would probably bee n the first phase of a police investigation. If I w as a terrorist operative they would prefer to not ruffle my feathers, and so would make clandestine efforts to find out what was my purpose, being in that place for so long a time. Maybe the hot -dog lady was a n undercover detective, and here the distinctio n between creativit y and schizophrenia is the most blurred. The second phase was to determine to what my glances were sensitized, what was it that I had on my mind to do. You know, shooting film from long distance lens and running the scan through the crime lab. An attractive humwomben (fe male) drove by to determine if I will try to pick her up (not my cousin, no interest). That charade lasted a matter of seconds; hairstyle and attire switches and then the parade went on with many atte mpts to intrude upon m y consciousness in orde r to establish the facts. Psychiatrists would call this mental disturbance but labels should not bother an author of psychotic treatises on the dile mma of un-identification within a discombobulated personality. Furthermore, it might require a person in that state of being to be able to classify the perceptions I AM recounting here. The se are the pangs of wondering if anybody will consider my descriptions as true to life, as so often said; "nobody will believe you," and that is what makes the task of writing about the m worth achieving. This 57