dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Saturday, December 22, 2018

what Ming believes

me:  Sometimes I think I've had so many ancestors, the world couldn't hold all of their dead bodies.  But I guess some were burned.
M:  This is not a night topic.
me:  And the world is really big.  Do you think my ancestors love me?
M:  Ancestors love the living.
me:  What do they do for us?
M:  They make the sun rise.  The crops grow.
me:  I don't farm.  Do my white ancestors love me?
M:  All your ancestors love you.
me:  What if they're racist?  Can my ancestors see me?
M:  Do you mean literaly?
me:  It's good that they're dead--ancestors are supposed to be dead.  That's their job...will I be an ancestor someday?
M:  Yes.
me:  Will I love the living?  What if I hate them?  Ungrateful bastards!
M:  Ancestors love the living.

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