The plan for this post was to talk about an enchilada recipe I made a few weeks back. ... again, I forgot to take pictures, I think. I'll work on that maybe I should put my camera in the kitchen so I REMEMBER to take pictures of my food....
So, here's what I wanted to talk about. Libya. All I listen to when I'm in the car alone is NPR, non-stop. It's where I get my news, my information. For the last several weeks every time I've heard anything about Libya I start to cry. It's not sobbing but it's this emotional frustration and sadness for the people living in Libya. This morning there was the announcement that the NY Times is missing 4 journalists and there was this wave of fear and empathy for them, their safety, their family members and friends. Then there was the story about the people living on the outskirts of the conflict torn cities, they go on with life sort of normal just waiting for something to go wrong, terribly wrong. So wrong that they could lose their loved ones. Then there's all these stories about how Colonel Qaddafi refuses to step down and threatens his own people...pays people to kill his own people...it's unbelievably tragic. It's sickening. There's the story of the immigrant workers who are stranded in Libya and can't do anything to get out because they don't have the money or they don't have their papers...I mean, there was even a woman who was saying that she was working for an American diplomat, who has fled the country and has left her totally stuck with no offer of. Fine, I don't know the details but this is what it seems. And then there's the Libyan who is doing everything he can to help, he brings the stranded immigrats food and water and whatever else he can do.
kjfhgiurnvkjf I don't even know what to say. I'm horrified by the situation. I feel fucking terrible and I wish there was something, anything, I can do. I think I (we) take so much for granted. We think we are so safe and so removed from any potential problems or issues with all of this suffering going on around us. The tsunami, the poverty in third world countries...the poverty in our own country. Not us. Not next door. Not even close. But this shit happens. It's so so real. I'm not sitting here thinking I know anything about any of this, I'm just trying to understand the conflict. To understand my own feelings and it's a fucking shit show.
Sorry for being crass. I'm just stuck with all these feelings. I can't fully explain, its just this constant weight and pain.
Thanks for listening. I'll get that enchilada recipe soon.xo