mmmarilyn;

a big-city fairy tale.

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{a photo project, 2006}

13 december 2007; thursday.

There is a perception in the West that refugee camps are temporary. When images of the earthquakes in Pakistan are shown, and the survivors seen in their vast cities of shale-colored tents, waiting for food or rescue before the coming of winter, most Westerners believe that these refugees will soon be returned to their homes, that the camps will be dismantled inside of six months, perhaps a year.

But I grew up in refugee camps. I lived in Pinyudo for almost three years, Golkur for almost one year, and Kakuma for ten. In Kakuma, a small community of tents grew to a vast patchwork of shanties and buildings constructed from poles and sisal bags and mud, and this is where we lived and worked and went to school from 1992 to 2001. It is not the worst place on the continent of Africa, but it is among them.

Valentino Achak Deng and Dave Eggers, What is the What

20:18:05

in the middle of dripping-ice-coated manhattan

End of semester, will probably feel like dying maybe ONE more time before the end. The end == Monday!! Monday Monday Monday! And then I'll be in the gloriously warm south on Tuesday and hopefully see all those Georgian hooligans in that week or one of the ones after January.

Hope all is well, love and merry Christmas to all.

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