It is the custom to visit, before the burial.
Whelp. Klaxons are rad.
Here are some local, recent, thoughts. Which really aren’t that local or recent, merely revisitations of oldness. Unfortunately, my moving on skills are unused and corroded. I need new ones. Ergo, here are my revisitations.
It is raining, and I’m reminded of things I wrote three years ago…in the rain, hence the connection. They were full of hope and anticipation. But what I was anticipating wasn’t worth the paper I wrote about it on. At first I was sure that I’d become stronger for coming through the experience. That was when I was moving on, getting out of Uxbridge and never coming back. On the conveyor belt to a bigger, brighter future. But in the face of the hopelessness of this past year, I am finding that experience to be one I wish never happened. Maybe that is unfair. No, it is. I suppose it is just one ingredient in the cake of despair I’ve et this year. Look at me, I’m friggin’ over dramatizing everything. Well, maybe not everything. I have had a pretty shitty year.
But—but Africa! Malawi! Halifax! What about God? What about the fact that he has brought me through so much? What about the fact that even though I can’t understand His language and I blindly look right past his pointing finger, He is still bringing things together and leading me!? What about all this? How can I let one experience, or the lack of it, undermine so much of who I am? How can I be so rattled by someone who means nothing? How can I possibly not let go? Forgive. Loosen the grip—its grip. Get on. Go.
I briefly read an anecdote with a Malawian setting written by Jeffrey Sachs earlier this evening. The account was rather a sad one. I hope your account will be rather a happy one.
On an unrelated note: have you intention to meet the American imperialist next week? She refuses to come to Uxbridge; she appears to have decent reasons, however.
I HAD intention. But my plans were thwarted by my life. Actually all plans but for those of traveling to Malawi and Halifax have been thwarted. Not complaining here. I tried to get her to Uxbridge as well. I was unsuccessful though, for she is steadfast in her American resolve. Misguided resolve. Here is my straightforwardness: No, I cannot visit the American next week. :( With sad faces.