I know all this. Sure, you know all this. Right? “Stay strong”. “Stay positive”. “Be patient”. “Never give up”. “It doesn’t matter how often you fall, what matters is that you get up again”. Right.

The thing is: I can do all this. But I am not alone. For some reasons I don’t remember right now, I have chosen to live where I live and make arrangements with the systems that pretend to keep the place I’m living in running. And it is those systems that make me despair at times. That make me do things I don’t have the time to do and don’t want to do. Things that take a lot of time but most likely will never make a positive difference. Things nobody should be doing – yet, because of where I am, I feel I have to do them.

If you look back at what I have been writing, quite a bit of it is about these things. Like: my view about inadequate services; my conviction that what is going on here are serious violations of human rights; the evidence I see almost every day that ‘lack of funding’ is the excuse – optimising spending the solution (e.g. by putting the people affected in charge of spending, not the agencies profiting from it), everybody agrees but nobody makes it happen.

Has it made a difference?

Is it really worth trying? I mean, the way I’m trying at the moment?

Systems are set up to make people comply. To make them fit in. To wear down anybody who’d ever dare to question them. At times, they succeed. Or: at times I feel like letting them win.

Where are all the flowers gone? – When will we ever learn? The man who asked this question, Peter Seeger, also has some ideas about how to make a difference and asks “Which side are you on?” — So even Pete experienced those mood swings: nothing will ever change because we will never learn on one hand, a call to fighting the good fight on the other. Maybe this is just part of who we are: at times it’s probably ok to feel a bit down.

PS: While I was looking for Pate Seeger YouTube brought me to Ani DiFranco (don’t ask me how they did this!). Never had heard of her, but if you have a bit more than 4 minutes, When I’m gone is really worth listening to. It’s an absolutely fabulous song that grows on you — and it absolutely matches up with my thoughts tonight, or rather: it provides me with the answer to my doubts, to the question at times eating me up from the inside, the question of “why bother?”.

And I won’t be laughing at the lies when I’m gone
And I can’t question how or when or why when I’m gone
Can’t live proud enough to die when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here