mlle. h. bean

I'm sick of feeling so powerless. My life is going along just as it was before the Wednesday strikes started The War, and sometimes I even forget about it. Before it began the focus was on preventing war, there were vigils and demonstrations, and now it feels like no-one really knows what to say. I'm only talking about the people in my immediate life, that is: these people have lots to say. But yeah: especially since we're an international resort and all that, with loads of Yanks walking around, there isn't much public discussion going on, much less voiced opposition. (I should mention there was a Village Square vigil last Sunday. But I only heard about it today.)

Anyway. My point is that my points are all over the place. I oppose the war, I oppose violence, and I especially oppose clouded-motive empire-building. But I don't know nearly enough about the past, present and future of all of this. Some self-education is in order.

On the a-little-more-superficial front: I keep seeing that boy I had a blind date with around. I think next time, instead of pretending I don't see him, I might actually say something. Because life is too short to hide your head, even if you don't want to make excuses for what happened. Even if you just want to nod and acknowledge his existence.

Time is passing and directions for my life are opening up. This happens. I'm glad I had faith in it happening, that I listened to Fiona (and all the others) who said it would. It's such a skill to be able to ride your life, manage the ups and downs, and one that I'm sure I'll be learning til I die. That's the way it goes, though, isn't it: you learn something and then you forget it and have to learn it again. Even bicycles. Human growth is cyclical, which is why it's so possible (nay, pertinent) to learn from history.