Write! with Peter Hering

But I’m not counting. Got up at 6 am. I never get up that early, but my son starts school at 8 am. And summer vacation is over. Took a taxi to school. It wasn’t raining. Took my other son to kindergarten, a good mile from the school. I carried him the whole way. He weighs 20 kg (=44 lbs.). It started raining and kept on raining the whole fuckin’ way. We were both soaked, but happy. Well, at least he was because he didn’t have to walk.

Keep the faith, even when God pisses on your head.

I’m taxed by worshipping my past: I’m free because I’ve confronted it; I’m damned because I know I’ll repeat it.

Keep the faith.

I walked past the row of suburbia; single-family happiness lining the old expansive alley like rows of steadfast tilia trees. Even Tobago was adorned with the life I loathed.

Excerpt from: ‘Promises from Tobago’
L. Jerome

Lost in the fog of expectations means fearing the reality of your illusions.

Let the rain of expectations wash away the fear of denial.

Keep the faith.