got 100% on my last paper, the winston churchill one. so happy.
i don’t know what i wanna do this summer. i think i’ll work the same, and take a continuing education course or something. like a language, or a writing class. learn spanish or french or german or something cool like that. something to keep busy so i don’t have time to be sad.
the other night i felt especially down. i still just feel like i’m so uncertain, unsure. unprepared for anything real. i feel better today i suppose.
i wonder which matters more, the big picture, the global aspects, or the little moments, the faceless billions huddled all over the globe?
to be forgotten, to be ignored, for the big picture as a little unimportant detail. it hurts. we have to be our own legacy, it seems. lol. unless you have kids. that seems to be one of the hardest easy ways out of being your own legacy that i've heard of, other than cloning, lmao. ok, i'm done with that line of thinking for now.
Nairobi, Kenya, December 7, 2013
We walked through the street toward Ebby’s apartment. There were no cars. Trees lined the avenue, adding the impression of lush, shadowy tranquility with golden sunlight trickling through. I looked back and took a picture.
when we turned down the next road, we came upon a few tin-roofed homes and stores, including a butcher shop with some kind of animal carcasses hanging in the glassless window. people milled about, apparently waiting for customers or simply loitering. brittany snapped a few pictures, obviously fascinated, and everyone laughed at her lack of shyness. i was more reserved, and neglected to take any pictures of the stores with all the strangers around. plus, i’ll admit, i felt a shallow sort of sadness at the dirt floors and tin roofs, while i stayed in a cushy apartment with maids and tv with hundreds of channels. i guess you don’t miss what you’ve never had, though. this thought just deepened the sadness, as if maids and satellite tv defined my place in the order of things, and tin roofs and dirt floors defined the people who lived among them.
it all made me think of growing up. my mom was a single parent for most of it, but she never wanted for a job, and though money was tight, it was never really tight enough to hurt much. so what if i didn’t get everything i wanted whenever i wanted? it never seemed to matter. there were other things i worried about. i had time and energy to worry about other, less needful things.
i can’t reconcile the thrifty lifestyle growing up with the dirt floors and tin roofs i saw in nairobi, but i don’t remember growing up with maids and satellite tv either. the world is twisty.