One week later...
Mari kita yakyak
Touch Buddha's stomach for ten years good luck
Not happened:
Any kind of work, art, etc...
Blog
Drawing
Happened:
Reading Ibn Battuta - half way
Going out - a lot
Eating - a lot
Catching up - a lot
Hanging out with boys - a lot
Spending time with Mama and Kong Kong - a lot
Firefighting and managing potential crises - a bit
Running and swimming - a lot
It has been a bit depressing and sad here. Things are now really starting to fall apart and no one knows what should be done. Why do I say this? For a start, the numbers of people here are crazy. The climate crisis is very real, and the fragility of the place - food, water, etc... the entire thing has become so incredibly complex and I cannot understand how people have any sense of this place. Yesterday we watched this video about sustainability here - from water to waste management, food waste, energy use... and there is this sense about things just passing. I don't know how to come out of this.
And it is so hot ALL THE TIME. There is now relief.
Everyone is getting older. People are uncertain about everything. The sense of instability, also of not really knowing what the people in charge are thinking...
I take public transport almost every where. The faces are tight, bleak, worn... you'd think that this would have been sorted by this generation, but it is now more entrenched. Education has not worked its magic here. Will there always be an underclass which education can never reach? Is education then not the only answer? I have always believed that the kind of education which is practiced here has been about enslavement rather than liberation... it depends then right... are the people who are in charge - what do THEY believe? What do they see for themselves and for others...
Into this is the death of Sinead O'Connor and we are subjected to the obscene travesty of people who wouldn't have given her a second glance now tripping over themselves to lionise her. To say how brave she was, how she had this amazing talent, it has been actually a bit revolting and Morrisey said it for us all when he said how gross this boke fest of hypocrisy has been.
So this is what happens to the brave. They laugh at you and mock you when you are alive and then when you die they weep crocodile tears. Many things which were held up as exemplars are now seen as revolting and gross.
There is also no sense of the winds of change which are sweeping through everything. In Ireland, things are close to the ground, should they fall, there isn't far to fall. Here... it terrifies me in the same way seeing the brown grass and trees of Barcelona terrified me. It is uncanny. It is weird. It is dangerous. It is unthinking.
I wish I could just let it all go.... but it will not release itself... not this time. The last time round, I was overwhelmed by not being here for two years. This time round, the disappointment in the correcting in the right direction which Covid did not bring hits home hard here. I think that perhaps I could write about it a bit everyday... I need to write everyday.
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