January 3, 2023 by petrujviljoen
Spending months on the pulse of South African politics – it matters, because it is us. Most of the crisis over, the nausea, the ugly of it all noted, filed, a life lesson. It’s the way it is. Ugh. But the worst were averted. If the personal is political where am I at that I need bread, wine and turpentine. Right now. (The rhyme is also mine). But there’s a thunder rumbling not too far off. I gauge the weight and colour of the clouds, note the change of green of the mountain, soon obscured by the urbanity of the small town. (The dash did me good). And now I know I am tired.
and beginnings a way
a fact of life.
Eyeing the clock and the green button on my laptop. Loadshedding. Power goes off for two hours at a time, sometimes several times a day. The grid is unstable. A relic from Apartheid and the new dispensation saw fit to ignore the dilapidation [of (their) power]. We added a word to the vocabulary of the world. So much of it for years we dispensed with the space and or the dash and made the Queen turn in her grave. Smiles.
a way of life politically
power outages are becoming common, even here. Iknow what it is to lose 1/2 a novel, but so it goes….rather for simpler times but perhaps we are all caught in more worrisome times;
The whole of everything is unsettled. On edge. (K)
Sigh. This resonates. Thanks for sharing this writing!
Hi! You do, of course, get it.