"I know you feel these are the worst of times/ I do believe it's true/ When people lock their doors and hide inside/ Rumor has it it's the end of Paradise..." * 80's Rock Band Styx "Best Of Times" from 'Paradise Theater' {IMAGE COURTESY: Rosemary Parkinson}

Sometime between the hours of noon yesterday and this morning, my apartment was broken into. The perpetrators tried prying the front door open but when unsuccessful took to the back door, hacking away at the outer rim of the door until the opened same, then prying open the lock on the inside wrought iron. I assume something or someone frightened them away at this point. Not sure if they actually made it into the house. We found out that they also went into a garden shed across the road. Nothing was taken from either. But my freedom of knowing that my own space is indeed mine has been compromised. Now I am locked in twice to the front, twice to the back, once at the top of the stairs, once again at the entrance to the two bedrooms and then, of course, yet one more time at my bedroom. What a joy to live like this!

I wish I had a gun, and I wish I had found whoever it was because he would be now in a morgue with his family bawling about a good church-going son he was.

Me? I asked the policemen (who came right away and were really fantastic) if by chance they could put in a request for me to have an apartment at Dodds, as I would feel so much safer there.

I am surprisingly calm but not a happy bunny behind all these locked doors…but until I am allowed to totally electrify the outside walls of my home and burn the bastards, until the time I can buy a pitbull with AIDS to patrol my yard, until I can put mines here and there so those who walk same can blow themselves up, and until I place fish hooks dipped in poison at strategic points around my abode, I will continue to live like if I am the criminal and those out there are the ones that are free.

If you speak and act with a polluted mind, suffering will follow you, as the wheels of the oxcart follow the footsteps of the ox. Everything is based on mind, is led by mind, is fashioned by mind. If you speak and act with a pure mind, happiness will follow you, as a shadow clings to a form.” – Buddha

My questions are these in the light of an attempted robbery on my house:
Does shooting the balls off a robber and batting off his middle leg for six just after, constitute an act of pure mind? The act would be certainly based on a pure mind… led by mind and fashioned by mind… and I definitely would speak softly to him without a polluted mind as I throw his bleeding half in the oxcart with wheels, slapping the ox hard enough to send him down the road at a high pace. So…according to Buddha, I would deserve happiness following me as a shadow clings to form, right? Bless.

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