Marion Barry's city is tired of thinking about him and his problems. Black and white, rich and poor, they say they are emotionally spent. Regardless of whether they think he was treated fairly, they seem ready for new agendas.

Thoughts of the D.C. mayor's plight -- his guilt, his innocence, his past, his future, his politics, his family -- have caused a confusing mix of feelings around the region.

Yesterday, people expressed tremendous relief that the trial is over. Many endorsed Barry's call for healing, while others spoke of the need to reconstruct the city in more tangible ways. Others said they were still sorting things out.

"I think people just want to forget about it and get on with the future," Veronica Carter, a 33-year-old legal secretary, said after Mass at Holy Comforter-St. Cyprian near Capitol Hill. "It's done, it happened -- not that we want it to happen again."

"I'm tired of it and I'm tired of hearing it," said Joanne Lee, 60, of Silver Spring. "We've had enough. It overshadowed everything in the news and we need to get on with the business of government."

The verdict, like the trial, seemed to sharpen as many lines as it smudged between blacks and whites, between urbanites and suburbanites, between the forgiving and the unforgiving, the strait-laced and the more open-minded.

The different points of view sometimes caused disagreement among friends of the same race, and tugged parts of small communities in different directions.

Everyone, said Valerie McConnell, one of close to 80 people in the region interviewed yesterday, seemed to have strong views on the trial. "The videotape and the media forced opinion -- either for or against," said the 28-year-old accountant.

Now the same is true of the verdict. "It is constantly being pushed down your throat," said a retired postal worker shopping at Wheaton Plaza who asked that his name not be used. "It is like the news media is trying to brainwash us. People have already made up their minds. You are either for him or against him. There is no middle ground."

The history of racial prejudice in the United States has led many blacks to feel now that it is necessary to defend Barry even if they believe he's guilty, said Robin Blackwell, 31, a medical assistant who is black.

"But a lot of times you have to look at things from another point of view: If you're wrong you're wrong," she said. "It's embarrassing to me. I'm glad it's over. I just want to sweep it under the carpet."

At Metropolitan AME Church downtown, Isaac Searcy, 35, a counselor for homeless teenagers, said that's not the point. "It was not whether he was so innocent of wrongdoing. It was just that they were out to get him. We're sensitized to persecution. We recognize it much quicker than other people."

And the reason for that persecution, according to William DeVeaux Jr., 25, the son of Metropolitan's pastor, is that white people just can't stomach seeing blacks in charge.

"From what I've seen, most white people don't like the decision," he said. "I believe he was singled out because he was black, because he had too much power. Whites want to get a white in office or someone who is weak, like John Ray," a D.C. Council member who is running for mayor.

Carlos C. Campbell, a black Republican who runs a consulting firm in Reston and was worshiping yesterday at Washington Cathedral, said he feels there is a double standard at work in an American justice system that he said pursues black officials much more vigorously than white ones. Campbell echoed the feelings of many when he said that before judging Barry, people should think of the worst 30 minutes of their lives being on television.

"If you spent even $10,000 going after almost any member of Congress, you could bring him down," Campbell said. "The resentment of the tactics used was the whole undercurrent that prevented him from being convicted."

Eugene Lawson, a D.C. cabdriver who is black, disagreed. He said he believed Barry was singled out for prosecution not because he was black, but because he is "arrogant."

And in Adams-Morgan, Reggie Carmichael, 27, who is also black, said "there were already racial tensions {in the area}. The mayor and the trial had nothing to do with it. They want to find scapegoats."

However, John Foley, 29, a white systems engineer who also lives in Adams-Morgan, said whatever divisiveness has stemmed from the trial "falls on the mayor's shoulders for driving a wedge in the Washington community." In fact, he said, the only thing that would solve the problem now would be for Barry to "get out of town."

Some of the white parishioners at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Old Town Alexandria said they believe Barry is guilty of all charges, and that he would have been found so by a suburban jury. Furthermore, they said, the verdict and mistrial make the District look bad and will heighten suburban cynicism toward the city.

"The man on the street would have been convicted on many of those counts," said Patricia S. Ticer, vice mayor of Alexandria. "I really feel jurors have placed this man above the law, and he placed himself above the law. This makes our job of dealing with the drug problem regionally much more difficult."

The Barry phenomenon has created a "sort of them and us thing" between the city and the suburbs, said Charles Allen, an Alexandria businessman who said he was disappointed in the trial's outcome. Relations can only get worse if Barry "runs again for mayor and gets it," he said.

But Page Weddle, an Alexandrian and student at the University of Tennessee, said she is prepared to forgive the mayor. "Barry ran the city well," she said. "It was his personal life that wasn't so hot."

And white parishioners at St. Anne's Episcopal Church in Reston were even more sympathetic.

"They were overzealous," said Brian Johnson, a white 37-year-old computer consultant. "They were out to get a black man -- the mayor of D.C." He said he thought the case was a waste of government funds and that Barry should have been found guilty of "no more than the misdemeanor charge that he got."

Johnson said he found Barry sincere in asking forgiveness in his speech Saturday afternoon at the Frank D. Reeves Municipal Center, and said he could relate to the mayor because he too was arrested once on drug charges, for delivering two pounds of marijuana in the late 1970s.

"I changed and I think it's possible to change," said Johnson, who has since graduated from Purdue University. "If you're going to condemn him forever, you can condemn me."

At St. Paul's Episcopal Church Rock Creek Parish in Northwest, the Rev. Frederick Quinn remembered Barry and his family in a prayer. In a sermon on "Letting Go," Quinn talked about how people are too eager to cling to such things as material possessions and the past. Members of the small congregation disagreed about how well Barry had learned that lesson.

Bill Arick, a psychologist and minister who grew up in the Washington area and now lives in Leonardtown, Md., said he believes Barry has already let go of the things that separated him from his family. Arick, who is white, said he has gotten into some heated debates with whites in Southern Maryland while defending the mayor.

"I have positive feelings about him," Arick said. "I remember all the positive work he did in the '60s and '70s. I have a strong sense of wanting to forgive him. We all mess up."

Philip Mitchell, a New Zealander who has lived in the area 18 years, agreed. "It is strange in a way the force that was put into catching the mayor," he said. He said people should try to measure the mayor's drug use in the context of Washington, where "lots of people in Congress are addicted to alcohol."

Not Susan Golightly, who lives in Fairfax County and was worshiping in Old Town yesterday. She said Barry "thinks he's been saved. This wasn't what our nation needed or what the people of Washington needed."

Said Philip Lewis, a research psychologist at the same church: "He doesn't strike me as having earned our forgiveness. He still seems full of pride."

And while Arick, who lives in Maryland, said if Barry feels he still has something to offer, he should run for office again, Marguerite Sayles, a D.C. resident, bristled at the idea of Barry's running for anything. As the minister suggested, she said, Barry should know when to let go.

"I think people in office should rise to the dignity of the office," said Sayles, who argued that Barry should resign. "What disturbs me is that people give him so much adoration no matter what he does wrong."

Reid Chambers, 50, a white lawyer and lifelong resident of the District, said he voted for the mayor during his first campaign. However, he said he feels Barry has become "embarrassing for the city . . . . The Greeks used to write plays about people like him," he said. "I'd never vote for him for anything."

When Barry asked for forgiveness Saturday in a speech to diehard supporters at the Reeves Center, his words came across to television viewers around the area in varying degrees of believability that seemed to have more to do with the individual than race. Deborah Justicelea, 35, an administrative assistant who is black, said her friends disagree about how remorseful the mayor was.

"I've heard all kinds of controversy about it," she said. Some say that "he's full of it," while others insist "he's come a long way," she said.

A 30-year-old Silver Spring resident who was shopping at Wheaton Plaza yesterday said she is convinced that Barry, who made numerous references to God in his public apology, is trying to hide behind God. "I forgive him, but I think he did many wrong things," she said. "I would not like to see him run again."

But George S., who declined to give his last name because he is an Alcoholics Anonymous leader who ran a recent AA meeting at St. Albans School that Barry attended, said the speech was "full of AA jargon." He also said Barry seems to be trying to come clean and that he has special sympathy for him.

And Charles Roberts, a deacon at Vermont Avenue Baptist Church in Northwest, reasoned that "there are a whole lot of people who will like the mayor no matter what he does, and others who have never been able to stand the sight of him."

Many churchgoers said yesterday that they hold nothing against the mayor because they have been taught that all humans have flaws and it is not their place to judge others.

"He apologized," said DeVeaux Jr. at Metropolitan AME Church. "He asked for forgiveness. I can't condemn him because I'm not God."

And out of all of this, some churchgoers also searched for some good. Justicelea, for one, said she hoped a positive result of Barry's predicament would be more attention to the youth of the city. "The mayor's addiction opened up a door that should have been opened long ago . . . . It really lets you see how bad {the problem of drugs} is. It's not just out here in the streets. It's everywhere, from Yale to jail."

Alice Burton, a self-described senior citizen who was worshiping at Holy Comforter-St. Cyprian, said she just wants to put it all behind her. "As far as I'm concerned, the {Barry} case is closed, or should be. They spent too much money on it already." Staff writers Pam Babcock, DeNeen Brown, Myra Dandridge, Alice Digilio, Marcia Slacum Greene, Ben Iannotta and Mary Jordan contributed to this report.