Recent photo of me by Deshan
This is a post under camera, under eye. I’m writing this during a YATV interview for something that’ll air this week. They’re doing those classic shots of people pretending to get busy on a computer screen. The interview subject is blogging and press freedom (or lack thereof). Somebody just burned the Sunday Leader press down, TamilNet is shut down and things are generally fucked. D is telling me to calm down, to take the last post down. D2 is telling me the writing is more angry and juvenile. Which it is. I’m busy. Feels like work almost, like I’m a manager. In a tie so. But that’s where it is. I know the tone is wrong, I know I’ve forgotten compassion and basic understanding. But I’m not emotionally the same person I was, and that’s where I am. I think the situation is deeply, deeply wrong. We will lose half of our money in 4 years due to inflation. All of us. How the fuck am I supposed to settle down and make my mother happy? There are huge swaths of my country that I cannot go to. There are huge parts of Colombo off limits. When I came back to Sri Lanka I had a small, personal dream, and I’m not that happy about it being blown away.
So. Do I think it can turn around? Yes, because it has to. It’s like bad plumbing or something. The toilet at my apartment didn’t fill with water at one point, cause the pressure was so bad. We’d fill it by hand for a few weeks and then I finally got fed up and called somebody and fixed it. Not the best metaphor obviously, but the plumbing of this nation is messed up and, as crappy as the job is, we have to fix it. Or I have to fix it. I feel like I have to do whatever I can to fix it cause I want to live here and I’d like a toilet that flushes and an economy that grows. I want a house and a picket fence (or concrete, with shredded glass atop) and I’ll be damned if I don’t get it. And that’s about all there is to it. I’m not a politician any more than I’m a plumber, but if that’s what it takes so be it.