If you leave bananas in a banana box, in their plastic bags, they get wet. I guess they’re living things, so they breathe or somehow, I dunno, water comes out.
So I think it’s good to unpack them.
I’m trying to center this morning. I’m trying to be ok–ok with people, our pettiness, our self-important crap. Our arrogant, hurtful shit.
There’s so much tenderness. Then there’s coldness, cruelty. Pain of being judged.
Well, I judge. So here I am, judging the judgers.
I slept half the night without Ming. He was building monitor at the church from midnight to 7am. I did fine. I dreamt of…eggs for sale from a farm, many colors of eggs. a mountain lion idea. weirdly overly-ornate bathroom no one was using. store with too much religious propaganda in it.
I’m hiding out as much as I can. Maybe tomorrow will be the hardest day.
I keep telling myself: in a week and a half, all this will be over. I think of it like getting my life back. But this is life too.