LONG walks along busy roads, people shuffling through pedestrian lanes, leaking tin can roofs, “brownouts,” crazy traffic jams, bizarre street food and more food, unannounced neighbor visits, family drama, hours and hours of laughter over silly jokes, floods, open markets, Sunday mass, basketball at the plaza, noisy pedicabs, hang out with poet friends, endless rain. I miss all these... Life was alive—filthy, loud, crowded but sweet and breathing. But I also love America, all the convenience and comfort. Neatly-paved roads, all kinds of ramens that I can choose from, freedom to look weird, beautiful woods, Bonnaroo, handcrafted beers, upfront humanity, voluptuous ladies with virulent hips, Goodwill, comfortable homes... Life is moving—open, diverse, easy, free and crazy. Without the creasy texture of the islands less-endowed humanity, I wouldnt be able to relish and the savor the flawless, immaculate but inward-unease of a physically blessed society. Life, its all about the glorious imperfection of human existence. A nice breeze and friendly dog should make living such a gift. [--PPascua, from “A Werewolfs Ruminations”]
Posted on: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 20:26:41 +0000
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