I woke up this morning craving an eye for an eye

I saw Lumumba tonight, and I was once again struck speechless at the credits, tears streaming down my face wondering how in the world I was going to justify leaving that movie theatre and going back to my room where everything around me lies superfulous and rank, and continue in a life where the most pressing delema I have to overcome on any given day is how I get all my reading done and still get to bed by midnight. How do I justify living so untouched and fearless in a world filled with injustice akin to not even our most horrific nightmares. My stomach hurts for the legacy that comes with the color of my skin and with the money in my pocket. I didn't kill Lumumba. But I did, I do, and I will. I didn't sit back and say nothing when my country excercized its "inaliable right" to regime changes whenever it saw fit. But I did, I do, and I will. I haven't and will never buy a diamond, but I will have bought one by belonging to a culture where all my peers will wear them with pride.
But all this is pointless, and it just makes me feel shitty, and I'm of no use to anyone that way. So what do I do? "What then must we do?" We can't just go back to the way we were, and we can't go around angry and counterproductive. And who can we hold accountable? I could kill my roommate right now. She comes in from one of her mall shopping sprees and says "How was your movie?" but doesn't wait for me to reply, and launches in detail into the exciting story of her shopping excursion. I'm not going to bother. Anyway, last time I tried to talk to her about terrible injustices and tragedy, she smiled and said, in this sweet little baby voice, "Yeah, that's so sad." But that's beside the point. Because of her background, she is about as likely of reaching a state of true concern about anyone but herself as a little boy in the Congo is of growing up to be a film major at Bard College, or a beetle becoming an elephant. I digress. It's unfair of me to say that. I don't know her soul.
Right now I'm just holding my baby doll and trying to reconcile things in my head. It's nice to have something to hold on to. It's times like these when I wish I could lay down in bed next to my mother and say nothing, but know that I was understood. But my baby doll, Adah Ruby, will have to do.
But then again, another really special thing happened tonight. I realized that for the first time in my life, I had a friend my age who connected with me on the most fundamental of levels. I've loved all my friends without restraint or conditions, but never did I think that I could ever explain to them what my heart was like and have them more or less understand it. Tonight I was having a hard time getting in touch with my emotions (I've been on meds for about three weeks now, so maybe that is the reason) which is probably a good thing or I would have embarrased myself. But I looked over at Leah, and it seemed as if she was feeling and expressing everything that I, at the moment, could not. And afterwards, she leaned over and held on to me while we watched the credits and felt something unnamable and unspeakable, two people trying to figure out how to live with themselves and finding comfort in the fact that they are not alone. As we were leaving the theatre and she said something to the effect of "how am I supposed to go home now?" I just wanted to turn around and tell her how lucky I was to be able to connect with someone on that level.
Ha! Now I just need to find someone who possesses these qualities and who I am sexually attracted to, and I'll be well on my way to a soulmate.
Another good part of the day was this: Leah and I put up an Igloo. Or rather the first half of the igloo--that is it has no roof yet. It has the startings of a roof. We've gradually worked our way inwards, but it's still in progress (I'm being optimistic here...It'll most likely collapse).
Okay, I'm drained. I'm gonna go sing.