riot police

It was the sort of protest that's a few minutes away from rioting, and I'm not really sure what it was about. Maybe nobody else there did, either. There was just so much anger in the air, and it seemed like any time I asked people what was going on, their response just didn't fit the anger. Maybe it never does. I think that's something to remember.

Some of them didn't like my camera, even though I was just snapping pictures. Some of them would pose or shout their slogans for me. I didn't write anything down. I don't remember what they were shouting. I don't remember why I was there. I just remember getting caught up in it at some point, and I barely remember anything about that. Shouting things I never thought I would into a microphone.

I remember, standing up there, seeing a friend who had come with me framed against the riot police lined up just outside. She was sort of in the fringe of the crowd and I don't know if she saw me. It was a strange image. She was a peaceful person. I took a picture later on.

On the way home she asked me how it felt, and I told her I wasn't sure. I mumbled something about how I just wasn't really me anymore. That was the best I could offer. All I knew is I was glad I had the pictures, later on.