The Forest Has Changed But The Monkeys Are Still The Same
I feel that I’m not in this never ending circus and that days keep recycling themselves. It is no wonder that a year to day seems like a month to the rest world. This is not the beginning of the end, just the beginning of the end else. Call it what you may! I call it the real difference between human being on the same planet. On the real planet, people go through life in a normal cycle complete with ups and downs not different from those of their next door neighboring. But for my communities and me, the downs are deepest and the ups steepest.
I spend a lot of time thinking and worrying about myself. So much! So that by the time I mange to fall asleep, it is time to wake up and face new bigger tribulation placed before courtesy of being a refugee. Sleeping for a short time is nothing new for my community and me. In our rootless society poverty afflicts us and it is undeniable that, ironically, it is becoming more dangerous to us. .It obvious on the real planet people have a place to call home. If they worked hard they can make their future bright with extreme hopeful joy. But we don’t have home; we don’t have any hope to change our future what over. Really I’m not feeling good. I’m just sitting under acacia tree since four year. I’m looking people those who lost hope, discouraged being a human being, by searing temperatures. Skin color change, early getting old age, developing incurable diseases like mental disorder, HIV/Aid etc. In the above fabulous climate, I lost some of my age group died young while others of us have lived to tell our stories.