would you ever hit someone else's camera?

so there is the man who wants the audience, and he has it...there is the boy and his pseudo-girlfriend and they are the audience, and there am i, and i am the one-man paparazzi, and i am in the crazy preacher's line-of-sight but his words don't skip a beat, but the son-of-a-bitch with his sweatshirt tucked into his capri pants hits my camera...literally hits it...what does he understand about my appreciation for the man's appreciation of jesus? or perhaps the homeless man really knows JESUS. but this boy, this child with his elitist ears...i have been him. i have listened to the homeless man with one eye on the group...with one critical eye on the selfish, worthless beings who don't care to stop to listen to the people who failed on purpose or by mistake to achieve the American dream. but i tell you the truth, if that boy had been listening to someone spouting buddha, he would have been punched in the neck by me, and i only spared his pride because he had the opportunity to know my God. and i laughed as the insane man preaching advised him to "let (me) say that" as i said "i ought to punch you in your neck...don't fucking touch my camera" and i wanted to rant and rave but somehow i found peace in being thought crazy by the craziest man i saw today. somehow i know that the boy who hit my camera does not deserve to be beaten to a bloody pulp in order to understand true humility...perhaps one day he will realize that i did not fucking knock the wind out of him out of my own sheer desire to be a vessel of love, despite my intense longing to just hit him once in the stomach at least. or maybe in the ribs. but, just remember this about the 3rd st. promenade folks...the homeless man comes to be heard, and whether he pretends to be crucified on a palm tree because he huffed paint in the alley, or whether he stares at his shoes from atop his wheelchair and longs for his youth, or whether he is finally reeling in his greatest audience to have ever heard his life experience, he wants to know he is important and noticed for the right reasons...because he is a significant HUMAN, and because he matters...not because he is mocked, and i tell you the truth, i have mocked in years past, but today i saw each man for who he wanted to be, and that i s why i wanted to punch that capri pants mother-fuck...because he refused to see that i had finally mustered up the courage to photograph a man that i simultaneously thought to be fucking crazy and lovable as a member of my family. well that is a lie and a justification...i thought he was crazy and i thought he was to be appreciated in that moment only as such, and i didn't see his redeeming qualities because i was only thinking of some imaginary contest that could be won with the appropriate combination of light coming from the GAP display in the background and the wiry hair/glasses he held title to. so perhaps in his universe he had every right to hit me, and we both spared each other the wrath of moral outrage. that boy was listening, and he was a country that saw me as his sneaky neighbor smuggling nukes inside the circle.