Living in a place like Honiara one gets to see times changing: you see it in people. Those closest to you and strangers alike. You can also feel many emotions: you feel it in relationships. Those most personal and initmate as well as of others you haven’t met but observe from behind those dusty louvres and window nets. This is a small town. Nothing is too private. Everything is just a story waiting to be revealed. If there is a secret. It will be a secret. Shared among everyone, passed from one to another in quiet whisper. That is secret enough. Gossip enough. Gossips. Burning like those candles in the scattered neighbourhood betelnut markets. Slipping into evening story story like those cool evening breeze we love so much in this town.
In the back of our mind we all hope for something better. Something much more. Some escapism. While those pirated DVD Hollywood movie is not enough to distort our realities, maybe something more poisonous. Like alcohol. Is that why I hear those screams in the middle of the night? Walls banging and things breaking when the world should have been sleeping peacefully. If the night can bring all these, should I pray and wait for morning before I pack my bags to walkagain the road to public bus stops. To see and feel again among the wave of people coming out of their shells and battling alongside me in this war of daily survival…….You all know this is just to fill in the gap. Feeling a bit poet writer lost today.
null
