Dangerous Compassions


Last night was radical mental health collective.  There were five of us including a new person.  He’s someone we knew but hadn’t seen in a couple years because he moved away.  But he’s back now, with roots.  His name is K and his mom comes to the Catholic Worker to volunteer sometimes.  With K’s two little siblings.  I see her in him.

Afterward we went to Indian food with A.  It was fun.  We talked and enjoyed the food.  Ming got chouchou that was way too hot, but he ordered off menu.  I mean it wasn’t on the menu.

At the end I asked if they had ras mali but the server said no, he wished.  We talked about where to get some.

Then A got water–he was basically out of bottled water.  “Does water go bad?” A asked as he rinsed out bottles beforehand.

“Don’t listen to me,” I said.

“I like listening to you,” he said.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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