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Posted in Word Stories
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May 4th, 2018

My Things, Mozambique

Being newly allergic to words like “insights” and “take-aways”, these are just a list of the things I thought while I traveled through Mozambique. These are #My Things:


 

Your tyres will go wherever you send them, even if it’s wrong.

(In whatever state of inflation you’ve decided, at whatever speed you want, over whatever terrain you steer them across. Doesn’t mean they’ll like it or that it’s what’s best for them. But they will go.)

 

Life is often just about rearranging your cargo. Again and again. And again.

(But hopefully, sooner rather than later, things find their place. Settle. Become a little more organized and what/who/where they are supposed to be. Then the trip becomes much lighter no matter what you’re carrying.) 

 

Even though you are absolutely, thoroughly, deeply convinced that you will never need to use that specific door again, do not slam it shut with a determination that this is actually true.

(You will nearly always need to open the door again and the door only has so many slams before becomes cranky.)

 

A dog is always going to piss on your wheels.

(And sometimes on your happy ride…)

 

If corporations are people, (and seeing as it takes at least 2 to 3 people to form a corporation, then they are people) then I am afraid that they represent the selfish, greedy, superficial, say-what-you-need-to-get-what-you-want, unfeeling, inconsiderate, narrow-minded, shitty, shitty side of humanity.

(I have, unfortunately, yet to come across a corporation that isn’t at least a few of these things.)

 

Do you love me enough to get my next garden a giant baobab?

 

Your everyday is my keepsake.

(Embrace the ordinary and not just the extraordinary.)

 

Fuck you, potholes.

You are an irritant with no educational value (except, maybe, patience).

 

Not one Mozambican was open to price negotiation or bulk discounts. Are we sure they’re from the Portuguese?

 

For every savage act there is a willing (even if reluctant) seller. But there is also a willing (and almost always less reluctant) buyer. 

 

All that the thorns are really saying is “Stay with me for a little longer.”

(It’s not necessary to always be such a prick.)

 

Yes, but is the going rate a living rate?

 


 

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