Over the December / Jan period I will be re-posting some of my past Wheelers Corners: This one was first published in 2012 and covered the subject of Race relations here in NZ:
It was read by over 1,800 individuals:
Have a read and see if you think things have improved or otherwise:
Over December and Jan I will also be sending a few short stories for some holiday reading:
I would also like to wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy new year.
The closing down of various institutions in an effort to save cash has led to huge upheavals for those involved. “It’s for their own good” it is often said by others. Really! Community care is available, Really! This playing with human beings by governments more inclined to things financial than social or medical will surely come back to haunt us all.
An Inside View. A short story
What makes them think I can’t understand, of course I can. I may see things differently but see things I do. I don’t wish to leave, I want to stay for it is here that I find my peace. Sure it may not be the same as yours but hell peace it is.
We have trees and green grass, the trees I walk under and the grass I dance on it is spongy and sometimes damp but always with me.
I remember when they brought me here; it was a long time ago. They were sad and you could see it their facial expressions, naturally they thought I didn’t understand their guilt but I did it was simply that I couldn’t express my understanding of their situation in a form they could understand. I may be different but I’m human too.
Doctors had words for my condition, they too thought I didn’t understand as they stood around me and muttered there medical terms. I understood and desired greatly to tell them that I did but I couldn’t find the means to express what was just bursting to be related. My arms would wave, my head would nod and my mouth would open and close but the words wouldn’t come. They stayed locked in, tight within my chest. These doctors of mental health shit what did they know anyway.
Oh yes I could talk to the trees to the grass and to the sky.
The others that shared my space understood me; we could communicate with each other. A smile here a nod there would link us together, others never understood that this was living for my friends and me. Communication is not just words alone. Energy between my friends and myself is achieved through simple actions and behaviours. When will the others understand these simple facts of my life? It is my life they playing with.
Divorce I’ve heard them say is a really difficult time for them, well then what of us, is not what they are doing to us just the bloody same? Separation or deportation by force is that not a crime.
A time may come when I can tell them what I think and I will let them know in no uncertain terms of the harm they are doing and have done to both myself and my friends.
Kimberly is my home.