It rained last night.
Suddenly got up for the noise of the rain drumming down on the roof. That cold refreshing feeling that only a tropical rain storm brings was immediate, so much that dD found the covering sheet welcome. The past few days of heat, both in body and soul, gave away to this wonderful feeling to the hidden corners of dD’s memory relieving the warmth of the mother womb. The relief was immense.
Added to the darkness, thunder, lighting, the sound of heavy rain, the cold air sweeping through the bedroom enveloped dD, and dD rested in this safe cocoon. Alas, the feeling so good resulted in dD falling asleep again.
Woke up in the morning completely refreshed in spirit. Opened the room door to complete paradise as the rush of cold fresh morning air enveloped dD in cool comfort. Coffee, stretch, bathroom, cigarette, more coffee, and then morning Akurugoda Road run.
Despite the euphoria from the rain, both the beauty and the madness that is Siri Lanka captured by Akurugoad Road saddened dD.
Siri Lanka, our family of 20 million people. It may be the piss, but remember at least it’s our piss. That makes it golden champagne.
dD once had a racist white red neck in Forty Wayne, Indiana spit in dD’s face. Circa 1986, United States of Fucking America.
Siri Lankans just spit anywhere they like. Most times well aimed from a bus window on to the road and approaching traffic. Spit, snot, vomit or betel spit, pick a choice.
Any of you supporting the Geneva agenda, should read this more than once please.
Siri Lanka, let it ‘be’.