The drive home in the semi-darkness scares me, the chaotic Third World traffic, the pedestrians scooting through fast moving traffic, the unroadworthy vehicles with smooth tyres, the overloaded minibus taxis swerving in front of us. Cornering on the mountain passes.
Sharing a house with somebody who is badly depressed scares me.
Both she and I are shaky after the suicide attempt in December. It scares me not having very much money, hardly enough to live on. It scares me that my life has this fragile feeling when a few months ago I thought about solidity and groundedness. Now those metaphors are unusable.
Trust. There really is no other way to go on. Uncertainty, illness, poverty, death hovering. To choose life and hope. To simply accept whatever comes in trust. Auden ‘Life remains a blessing/Although you cannot bless.’
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