Downpour.

On days like these it is hard not to think about fathers who rape their 5-year-old daughters, or beat the shit out of their children. Or children living in shacks, not having enough to eat. Or drunk men walking from door to door in poverty-stricken villages, claiming to collect money for retired grannies - while I am pretty sure they will spend every single rand they selflessly collected on booze.
On days like these it is hard to see a reason in our existence, or our work, or anything really. On days like these my mind is as gray as the sky above my head. And I feel bad for feeling bad because I am blessed as fuck whereas others are soaking out there. Literally and metaphorically. And - to be honest - I could do more to make things better. I could do a lot more.

But on days with sunshine, I just care less. Things slip from my mind and while working it is easy to be distracted. It is easy to be distracted while driving through a beautiful scenery. It is easy not to think about death and HIV and violence and hunger. At least for a while. But it shouldn’t be. It fucking should not. How can I enjoy going out, having brunch, spending a shitload of money on tofu and chocolate and all the unnecessary things I feel like I am needing. How much ignorance is necessary to prevent oneself from becoming insane in this place?