It's not like we like anyone, not even ourselves. Back home there's this war that's going on in another country but there's still lot of guys from my place that are just dying to volunteer to go there. [J can't really claim that she understands the conflict and whatever's going on in Vietnam but it really goes over her head that there are so many young men eager to go there. There's a brief memory of the friend she used to have not too many years ago, the troublemaking young man who tried to volunteer just to rebel against his family-- all prepared to die in the battlefield.

She licks the melted chocolate off from her fingers, really wishing now that she'd have more it. Or something else to keep her mouth busy.]

But you know. It's not like we need wars to kill others. Those who are different.