it’s hard to believe sometimes that the world moves the way that it does
one minute full of hope and future
the next, upended, destroyed
a tornado through your path
and hopefully you’re left standing,
nothing to be understood.
after the heavy sadness of friday, to have to go through saturday afternoon sort of numb and tired, running errands you don’t want to do in places you don’t want to go – for what return?
saturday night i went to see the Samuel Beckett plays Play and Endgame, at the American Conservatory Theatre in SF where my friend works in costuming. it was well performed, and i appreciate the contemplation on the subject, but i think our collective mood from the evening before made it hard to enjoy dramatic existential thoughts about life and death.
“something is taking its course.”
and then a push of objects to be there sunday afternoon, in a bright sunny park full of hundreds of beautiful souls, dancing – so much life, teeming. surrounded by people, and so grateful for all of them. happy, heavenly. the night fell slowly and full of warmth. i was the last one to leave the park, spot-checking with a flashlight after dark to make sure everything and everyone had been taken care of. a heavy sigh.
and then it is 7am monday morning, it’s early and it’s raining and we are driving a box truck through rush hour and the dirty, bumpy industrial side streets of oakland, sore and tired and wondering what the hell is next.
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