// 845.371.2222 ee the people there?” “Sure do. Know them?” “Know them? Not ruining my circles.” “Why are you looking at them?” “I Don’t like them. Can’t stand their guts!” “They’ve been snobbing you? Wait till I get them!” “They haven’t done anything! Hate them anyway!” “Man, what’s come over you? Hate?!?” “Yup.” “Calm it. Hate? Why?” “See their noses? Pointy as knives. Eyes? Basket balls. They don’t look like us. Let’s tell them to beat it – hate them!” “They’re peaceful people. So what if they don’t look like us? No harm done!” “Looking at them makes me mad!” “Racist.” Whoa! Slow down! What’s all this senseless chatter about? Where is this article going? The other day, I was sitting on the bus, minding my own business, when voices filled my ear. Now I know, that sitting on a bus, breathing its fumes, while looking out a grimy window, can put you into a stupor. Anonymous voices might echo within you, and hold you captive until the end of the ride. It’s invasive that way. I’m actually inhaling that bus –odor, as I relive my experience from the comfort of my kitchen table. I remember how I didn’t blink an eye at first. I sank into my seat and my thoughts, and let the voices surround me as soothing as background music. There was only one problem. The voices got louder. Now loud voices are an entirely different kettle of fish. The voices in my ears, when I am riding on a bus are usually of the monotonous variety. As the wheels of the bus turn round and round, a song, word, or phrase will repeat itself again and again. This was out of the box. Totally. I tilted my head slightly, trying to get rid of them. Are the pressures of my life, pressing on my eardrums? The voices rose. Ominously. I turned my head fully, to see two seatmates arguing with passion. How do I know it was with passion? Well, the clues were hard to miss. Flushed cheeks, strong statements, strident arguments, all these were present, and more. Ominous indeed. I sharpened my ears. Only to help of course (I am of a kind and giving nature.) Shaken out of my lethargy I caught several revealing phrases: “Autism? Fiddlesticks!” “This was her experience – so there!” “Look’ I don’t want to go there. Her son was diagnosed with autism, and that is beyond painful. But how does she prove its connection to the ‘shots’?” “She’s not the only one! Many have blamed vaccinations for the rise in autism!” “The CDC…” “The CDC! Do you know how corrupt they are?! You can’t trust a word they say!” “The world is corrupt my dear. Who can you trust? But the same drive for power, drives the other side too. Can’t you see YISKAH GOLD “S 137
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