madame zenobia's

the exams are an interesting process. at the same moment that you feel like you've showcased all the shit you know, in the next instant, you feel anxious like "did i make any sense?" or "does that paragraph work in that spot?" then, you turn in your stuff, and it's done. outta your hands. waiting future/future waiting.

nevertheless, it's done and done. thank goodness. i've been playing lots of playstation, watching lots of tv, and cleaning the house. this weekend, i cleaned my room and i mean cleaned. i have so many clothes that i just don't wear anymore or just can't fit. i decided to send this stuff to the philippines. my mom and i had been talking about it, and i just decided to get it done. but this process has been very revealing and a little painful. on the one hand, i'm very happy to be able to help out my family. the poverty and hard times there, i can't even imagine. but as i was pulling out clothes from my closet and dresser drawers and looking thru shoe boxes, i felt this tug in my gut and on my heart. it's hard to explain, and i guess the best way to describe it would be: i was feeling class and privilege guilt. there i was, standing in the master bedrood of the two bedroom apartment that i do not share. i'm pulling clothes out of the closet with tags still on them and gathering up shoes i haven't worn in years. i don't know what to do with these feelings. i could do some sort of analysis of capitalism and political corruption. maybe a discussion about the ills of globalization will be fruitful here. but that shit didn't matter to me this afternoon. that theory stuff doesn't do much when it comes to feelings and such.

the pile of clothes is sitting in my dining room, waiting to be boxed up and mailed. i'll be sure to send my love and hopes for the future: be sure to tape it up tight. i'll keep my guilt to myself. it won't do anyone any good. except remind me why i do what i do despite it all...