Dangerous Compassions

internalized anarchy

“I’m glad you had some rice,” I told Ming.  “I like sharing my food with you.  It’s like it tastes better!”

It was early morning.  We were in the kitchen, and he had just thanked me for rice.  Sometimes I slice up a sweet potato and put that in my rice to cook, and a little salt.  But this morning I did a carrot.  It was delicious.  And raw garlic and butter on the plate.

“Did that ever happen to you?” I asked.  “Maybe when the food tastes better, when I share it with you, that’s what love is.”

where am I

I feel disoriented.  Where am I, what day is it, is this my house?  What season is it?  I think I know who I am, at least.  That’s a start.

I need alonetime, rest, quiet.  Time to adjust.  Our houseguest moved out.  They were here since Father’s Day, for three months, almost to the day.

Adjusting to anything can be hard work, even good things.  I got a letter from the person in the world I most wanted a letter from.  I wanted it so bad, I didn’t even know to ask for it.  It’s like the desire was the same as my entire being.

It was like last year, when God told me exactly the thing I would have asked her to tell me, had I thought to ask.


I saw a meme Internalized Capitalism looks like.  Immediately I started writing in my head a counter-meme Internalized Anarchy looks like.



I found in a desk drawer some mail labels, did a little painting.


Yesterday morning’s walk, I saw a neighbor is making a cool heart shelf.



This fence has a pretend fence under the fence.  Weird, huh.  It’s a board painted to look like a fence.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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