[personal profile] marieldraconis
My earliest memories are of a land of eternal sun, a home with a giant yard (at least, for a four-year-old), and trees and animals everywhere. These images have left their impressions on me in myriad ways, from the profound to the frivolous. Here are some of the results:
"Do you know any good paths to walk?"
It's nine o'clock, well past dark, and cold outside. That won't stop me, though. I need to go somewhere, anywhere, and if she doesn't want to come with me, I'll go alone, but I need to be outside.
I can feel the characters pressing in on my head, and I can barely keep them out. Why is it that my legs develop extra energy when my characters do?
Somewhere in the back of my mind, thoughts of a sunny yard and huge climbing trees powers me forward.
"Where's the snow!"
They probably aren't surprised by now, but no one's kicking me to shut up, either, so I continue.
"It has no right to be this cold without snow. Maryland/Connecticut/New Hampshire has snow, so why isn't it snowing?!"
Or, sometimes,
"The snow is supposed too stick. It's going to look so gorgeous out here all covered in snow. I want to see it snow!"
Someone should shoot Mugabe. I'd do it, but I'm not sure I could run a revolution afterwards. Besides, there's the risk the country would unite against the white outsiders (again), which will make it worse again. They'll kill themselves for a cause, which is better than dying because of the whims of their leader.
They need the revolution, but more than that they need the aftermath to work, or they'll end up just like so many of the other post-colonial or post-Soviet countries, unable to hold any but the most corrupt governments, or like France after its first revolution, caught in an unending cycle of execution and revolution.
I love Zimbabwe too much to let it come to that. What do I do to stop it?



June 2017

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