I don’t know where to start… Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t need hugs right now. Or love. There is a disconnect that comes in waves. And the wave pulls you under. You are under water and can’t get out. No panic. Just don’t breathe. Hold your breath and wait for your body to catch up before you break through for some fresh air again. Beautiful fresh air. But right now you are under water. Just lie back and float under water for now. Don’t panic. Just wait…

Do you ever feel like this? What I call “The Heavy”. Where it just seems as if the world gets a little bit too heavy. It closes in on you. When you feel it is just a bit too much. I don’t mean the personal stuff. There is no heavy there. That is always good. Always good.

But the world. This fucked-up world we live in. It sometimes gets too heavy.

It’s been like that for a few weeks now. Sometimes heavier than others. It’s like you are in this noise bubble. Your brain overloaded with so much bad news and visuals that you just can’t make out anything anymore. Like someone switched the lights off inside you but you are still awake – just not sure what is going on and can’t see much of what is inside. Like you’ve gone 12 rounds with Mike Tyson. Just tired. Just tired. And battered. This fucked-up world of ours.

There are kids dying out there. Of hunger. Of wars. Because the water they drink is bad for them. For no reason but for being born in the wrong place, in the wrong time. It’s too much. I can’t handle it.

I am not strong enough for this. God knows why Ubuntu is in me. It shouldn’t. I am not strong enough for it. I admire people who can work in the field every single day and see it happen. My friend Vasco Pyjama does it every day. Every single day. Somalia. God knows how she does it. She is stronger than me. I love her and Toaf for being able to do that. I am too weak to do it. I am paralyzed when I just think of it.

I never know how long it will take for me to get up again. Just too many faces. Just too many voices right now. Too much to do.

It’s just too much. I wish I could just walk away. Just for a little bit. Just not care for a few days. Just see the sun and smiling faces around me. Without it reminding me of those kids. And the people suffering. Just a few days please.

That’s the problem with this goddamn Ubuntu. It won’t leave you. Because it is you. Goddamn Ubuntu.

Most of the time Ubuntu makes me see the good and the bad. It makes me smell the flowers. It makes me smile inside when I see my little girls laugh and play. It makes me stare at the leaves on the trees changing colors in fall up here in New England. Ubuntu gives me time to appreciate the beauty that’s around me. But it also creeps up and punches me in the stomach. Reminds me that all is not well out there. And “The Heavy” sets in. Like dark clouds moving in. The other side of Ubuntu. Most of the time it is in balance. But sometimes it’s like this. “The Heavy”.

It’s like I am waiting for something. Waiting for the change to happen. For the world to wake up and go “Oh yeah, I forgot about the other people. Let’s sort that out quickly.” Waiting for the world to change. And make this suffering history.

But I know it is not going to happen. It’s not. People will die for no reason. And they will continue to die. No matter how hard I try. No matter what I do. It will always be there. The “others”. The waiting is for a bus that will never come. And it sometimes it gets too much. This waiting. This working. This treading water.

I want to walk away. Just throw my hands up and say, “Fuck that. It’s too much. You go sort it out. Just leave me out of it.” It’s not my fight anymore.

Why do this? I can’t change a thing. It is too big for me. I don’t want to do it. But I know I don’t have a choice. I can sit here and feel “The Heavy”. But in the end… In the end it doesn’t help. It doesn’t do anything. It doesn’t change anything. It’s just me feeling shit. Feeling overwhelmed. I am not feeling sorry for myself. Just drained, tired, overloaded and helpless. But it’s not easy to shake.

The problem is that it is my fight. I don’t want it. But I don’t have a choice. I can’t walk away. Even if I want to walk away. They don’t have a choice. They can’t take a breather. They can’t stop fighting. They live it each and every single bloody day.

I don’t even know where it is. The Heavy. Is it in my blood? Is it on my skin? Where the hell does it come from? If I can find it I’ll cut it out.

Tomorrow is another day. And I am waiting for that day. I am waiting for that day when I will get up and not feel tired. Or drained. Or overloaded. Not feel “The Heavy”. The day I’ll take a deep breath and stare at the world and say, “Fuck you. You will not win. There are more of us than what you think. We will win. You know why? Because we don’t have a choice.” Maybe not in my lifetime. Maybe never. But it’s worth it. Because when “The Heavy” lifts the world is a better place. A place where we fight. And laugh at the fight we are putting up. Where we shout, “Come on! Is that all you’ve got? Bring it on!”

Just not now. I am in between rounds. Taking a breather. Staring at Mike and looking for where I am going to tackle him next. Where I am going to hurt him. I’ll fight dirty when the bell rings and “The Heavy” lifts. I’ll be scrappy. I’ll bob-and-weave for equality. And jab righteousness. I’ll bite the ear of bigotry and hypocracy with the mouth justice. I’ll kick poverty and injustice in the nuts. And I’ll bring hell with me.

Just not now. Just now. In a little while. I need “The Heavy” to lift. It’ll come. It’s just reminding me that this job isn’t easy. That I should never underestimate it. That Mike is one tough bastard. And there is no end in sight. We’re in this for the long run. It gets me down. And then it will get me pissed off. And then I will fight again. Like I have never fought before.

I get like this sometimes. Do you? Do you feel that it is sometimes too much? Too much to handle? That you want to walk away. Like you have lead in your shoes. Not enough air. Too much going on and too much for you to do. Too many leaks in the wall. A heavy weight on your shoulders dragging you down. That you feel tired to your bones. Drained of all energy. Like you are treading water. Overloaded with faces. Noises of voices filling your head. 

Do you ever feel “The Heavy”?

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