The Poisoned Apple by Krista Huot
It's an intriguing thing when in the space of a hour I receive two emails from friends who subscribe to the blog about the fact that they think the title of my blog is ironic. So just to clarify, yes, it is a blog that precisely deals with things you'd rather forget. Or rather not think about. Going back to the inception I've contemplated the idea that sometimes life just seems like it might be better if you could just forget about all this... stuff. But I can't. I obsess about it. I feel bad if my blog makes my longtime friend TL feel blue. And yes, Meli, I confirm that all the palate cleansers, the beautiful images that soothe the soul and show us the beauty in the world around us, are supposed to be like little draughts of Nepenthe, or a bite of the poisoned apple that makes us forget who and where we are for a time.
But we always wake up. Always.
To oil in the Gulf of Mexico or animals mistreated or children being bullied to death or given back to somewhere or gender and sexual orientation invalidation or disappointment in our political machine in the US or seemingly quite mentally ill people posting inappropriate threats because of differing religious views, without even considering where those comments are posted and whether they have the meaning they intend in the context they are posted.
We always wake up.
Maybe we can wake up and make change that we can really believe in. Just because of our awareness.
Or maybe we just wake up feeling.
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