it's 4:34. I'm awake because the place across the hall from my business needs to be shut down. It's a "safe haven" for runaways and drug addicts, mostly turning the former into the latter. Supposedly, there's going to be a police raid soon on the owner, who's known to be on ice. So I'm sitting by the window, in the dark of my lovely art studio, waiting for the sirens. Hoping for the sirens.

Good and evil have always and will always exist in this world. As long as there are humans in the current form, there will be good and evil. It's just surprising how much detriment one life can cause, and how little is done to stop it.

On another note, I love my life. Even this--waiting with bated breath in the darkness, watching the garbage trucks begin to make their rounds, hoping that finally the Bad Guy will get his due--even this I love. Every day is full of challenges and triumphs and moments of rest. Every day is new. And even though there are more challenges than anything else--every day is worth living. Always. It's just easier for me to feel it now. Each battle that I choose is worth fighting.

I'm starting to grow tired, and the buses are now on their rounds, delivering sleepy-eyed travelers to their destinations. Twenty more minutes and I'm supposed to call they cops myself, tell them what's going on, so that they'll raid the place. They've been here twice tonight already. Over 20 times this month alone. Why is it that nothing happens?

I just hope, I hope that his payment for his deprivation comes soon. Before someone gets seriously hurt.