It’s late and I am in Kent. Or Ashford. Or a castle. Or a roadside motel. Oh and I saw that maze above today.
Late post today because rural England’s wifi is worse than Cambodia’s. I get that the country is going through a lot with Brexit and stuff, but really, you are embarrassing yourselves.
I’m exhausted from a day of talking to people with varying degrees of care, but I want to write about the insanity of gun violence in the states, the police brutality, the blatant racism, the monstrous double standards and how to make it all ok. I, of course, don’t know how to fix it all from a medium-good motel room in the UK, but it’s all I have been thinking about today. Through the conversations about other people’s kids, the things they hated about their friend’s weddings, and why wedding cake is obsolete, I have been distracted by the constant vision of headlines from the past few days. The past few days, piled upon the past few months, and years.
Don’t get me wrong, I actually like and care about other people’s children, and I agree that if you want to have a cheese tower instead of cake at your wedding, that it exactly what you should do. But my heart hurts for my country, my #OGBrexit, my home.
I’m too tired to write anything of consequence about the things that matter right now, and they deserve attention, consciousness, and love.
Photo of the Maze at Leeds Castle