Death

The past few weeks have been draining, my creativity has been on a fritz. I am aware my home country isn’t the only place facing harsh political conditions, but by God did it have to be this heavy?

I have shed tears for strangers, people so distraught by the hand dealt, use of brute force and potbellied bullies. I have watched a grown man break into tear-snort wails on live television about his government sponsored abduction, torture and attempted murder. I can still hear a mother of a 12 year old shot 8 times by the police, tearful cries for the president to give her back the child he callously claimed in an interview ‘he is still alive, right?’

Right after her comes another mother who says she will lead the next protest so the police can kill her, distraught by the disappearance of her son, 23 years old. A week later, her son’s body is spotted floating in quarry, battered and bruised. This is but a few cases, there have been more than 40 reported deaths.

I have tried getting away from it all, but it’s all everyone talks about. Everyone is angry, inconsolable, baffled by the audacity of one individual and his swarm.

Writing is my outlet, I can feel some light sipping in, some warmth in my bones. The fight persist against a rogue government, and I will do it best way I know how.

I intend to keep sane, I intend to win.