so, beloved and i got ourselves on the road and it was wonderful. i was crusing at the speed limit, almost letting myself listen to the classical music blaring on the radio, and, quite wonderfully i can imagine, i saw myself driving on a convertible, a red convertible with my hair blowing in the wind.
though, that is really strange. i'm very bald you see.
i felt like flying. i feel like flying. beloved feels nice. her engine roars quite well. from others observations. and i feel liberated. saw myself like icarus bearing long, strong, proud wings
in the wings and high pursuit of liberation, i am afraid, i am becoming a plant killer.
i like living things around me and since i do not have a garden, or space to run around, flaunt myself on the green, green grass and be caressed by the sun. i bought a plant.
and now, the plant is dying. the leaves are turning yellow-brown on the tip. so i dashed to the store and pleaded for cpr for the plant. the plant carer, his name is patrick was helpful with plant saving tips, though he laughed. he laughed at my fibble attemps to take care of a japanese - plant thingy. the refusal of the african violet to bloom. and most of all, my great sense of confusion.
i still like him though.
i left there armed to the teeth with plant nutrient and more resolve to take care of the plant. infact, as a show of confidence, i bought yet another plant!
just when winter is coming.
the room of my own is secluded in the green lab·y·rinth of the apartment complex in the dense populus of squirrels. there isn't much light that filters through the room. scratch my head on this one. i so need some living things around me.
the whale rider
is such, such a delight. and, to know there is a book out for young readers makes me squeel with joy.
i read this
yesterday and i loved it.
the colour of one's skin, is it the colour of the soul.
this guy at work that i know is really black hued. he is not as dark as one from sudan or the shores of lake victoria. but he is dark coloured. when i first made his acquintance, he made referrences, inovertly about his colour. silly me i didn't think it was such a big deal. i was like yeah, you are rather dark and.... and this guy would refer to my skin tone. that my skin was smooth. that i never had problems dealing with my colour or how i looked and stuff like that.
i didn't pick up this self hate until i read this book, skin i'm in that it all made sense.
the way we look is such a big deal to us and how people relate to us. when i was much younger, six or seven, i remember older girls in primary school asking me whether i was [ point 5]. i was much lighter in hue that i am now. point 5 is someone who is bi-racial. the ligher the skin, the more socially mobile one is percieved to be and thus more affluent.
i remember quite vaguely answering i wasn't. and that was when i become conscious on the dynamics of colour. i figured in my head, the lighter you were, the more money you have, or more stuff you have, because, hey, you must have some white blood somewhere.
it has taken me many years and much insight to relinquish this idea.
i perform tonglen
for him. for i. and people like us.