A small notebook from a man known as John C. (possibly homeless) has been circulating downtown Houston. Last night I managed to get my hands on it and sat down to read its entirety, realizing quickly it has some really great moments. Here are a few gems:
I’m not running from the fight but a dead hero can’t accomplish the Mission Impossible.
Perhaps the world can still be better for this that one man scorned and covered with scars still strove with his last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable star.
Renew the world into a paradise without first destroying it. And save everybody.
I am a prisoner of the highway. I have steered up a hornet’s nest and must lay low for awhile.
It’s been a rough ride, dear. After two failed police firing squads. Don’t blame me. Blame the bullets, or thank god.
I know my letters got through and terrified your mother. I feel responsible for her passing. How can I ask you to forgive me for that? But I dare to say I am sorry. My letters were meant to warn and win. Not to wound and kill.
A little sparrow can’t keep flying forever in the eye of a hurricane. I must find safe refuge and renew the fight on talk radio.
Their education x-ray cannot see under my skin. I don’t tell them a damn thing that I could not tell a friend.