iPod scribbledowns

Here's a post I've been wanting to do that contains unedited thoughts and scribbledowns from the Notes section on my iPod.

Ambulance
To a small child it's a favorite flashy and noisy toy that makes
mother crazy (even better).
To an older one it's a transport for heroes. Weeoohweeooh! Someone is
hurt, but it's okay. Ambulance to the rescue!
But then we grew to be adults and now we know that not everybody makes
it, even when the ambulance comes. And the ambulance is a sign that
someone else is in danger of death or something serious, and plus it
interrupts the traffic. Gone are heroic visions and love for annoying
noises. Instead we grip the wheel or grit our teeth and wish idly for
a perfect world.

Thoughts on eye contact
He avoids the faces because it's easier to look at things
Than at people.
Why should I fear?
In worst case I am a strange one for a few seconds and forgotten
within a few hours
Or in best case a new friend remembered for years, but that chance is
so rare just from a look that why should I worry? I am not in danger
of too many friends, and looks don't make enemies.

500 friends on facebook and we don't know our neighbors' names
On the bus, in the street, at school
Maybe I'll be that person who looks everyone in the eyes and not be
the one who looks away in a flash
Are we afraid of looks like tribals are afraid of cameras? don't point
that thing at me; it will steal my soul!
You are afraid that if I look you in the eyes I'll capture a piece of
you, that I will see your fear or your shame
Look, look, and please don't see judgement looking back. I'll try. I
will, please see looking back someone else broken but also mended. See
hope
Yes I want to capture a bit of the strangers and maybe I won't have to
speak, but maybe they'll go home hungry and wondering, or maybe
they'll just forget. When did it become terrible to look?


The things that make a house a home
The door knob at the bottom of the stairs that has stuck open but it's
better that way
The desk piled high with papers that you can't use without making it worse
The oven mitts on the piano bench and the clock that's always five
minutes ahead and the spots on the floor where the color has fled at
the scooting of chairs and the puppet theater turned countertop and
every single window


Traffic Light Fruit
There were a pear, a banana, and an apple, and they were a traffic
light as one might easily assume. It was an easy job. The pear was
green and the apple was red and the banana was yellow. One day,
wishing to exercise a lesser known talent, the pear was yellow, but
the banana, not wanting to be unripe, refused the green, which the
apple gladly took. But the banana could not find it in itself to
become red, and the traffic was an awful mess that day when the light
was yellow too long and nobody really stopped but in the intersection
they slipped on the banana peels.