I’m often amazed at how much we have and how little we are capable of sharing. My walk sometimes, mostly in mornings, somehow I never seem to get used to the sight of people sleeping sleeping on footpaths and public benches. How did we come to a world where homeslessness is a crime and hoarding wealth is not?

In my attempts to open up about my personal life more, I have been speaking to a few new people recently. Acquaintances, I suppose. I’ve realised it is so much easier to speak about the pandemic, the crisis, politics, environment, legal issues, the outside in general but despite all my efforts I have not been able to tell anyone how it felt going through everything, maybe even myself. I don’t know, I thought I was an expressive person but I seem to be shutting myself from facing anything recently. I’d rather brush of the memories and think of a “real” problem, almost as if what I’m feeling is not relevant to current situation but how can that be when it is the direct consequence of what happened?

Why do none of my family members hug each other? Unless of course it is meeting after over a year or if someone dies. I don’t think I hugged anyone after dad died, I just took his place hoping this ends sometime but it has started to dawn on me that it probably doesn’t. This is it, childhood is over. I no longer have the option of responsibilities. I’m so mad there is nobody to help, how can dad build an empire and leave nobody else in charge? I had just starting building mine and I don’t want to abandon it, I’ve left too much of childhood already for this. To leave that behind, take over this mess and live 2 lives is exhausting.

Oddly, I also believe that nobody is given anything more than they can handle whether it is empires or castles or a broken family, so let’s see. Even if I fail, there is not much left to lose. I’ll build something else, maybe a little cottage next time.