follow it. Thats Islam.)
Perhaps the most beautiful thing here is not knowing, falling into a place where you don't know the rules. A baby is born and grows up in a set of laws of society, a child, unjudgemental, confident, and free because of lack of experience - experience teaches us who to avoid. But falling into this society means that anyone can be my friend - everyone is the same - their social workings are the same as the long trail of ants.
It only becomes clear to me sometimes - who a person is in society - in themselves - this you read from their eyes (I think) mysterious objects where god comes out. But mostly people are just people to me - and thats why I end up in a situation where I am in love with two married guys and a girl. Thats why some societies allow each of these things, because one can't reign in the heart and if one tries, only disasters and lying eyes can occur.
Farba Diouf. From the moment I met him he has this electricity. Its something in their family - Fatou light skinned and blurry features - Farba dark and defined - but both with these incredible (captivating, startling?) huge smiles that take up their whole face with jutting thick big white teeth. And the energy - the strength that comes from their eyes - their whole face - and coiled up in their completely different bodies. Farba like a spring, a mousetrap about to snap - with high blood pressure to boot -short, bald, and formed like a shooting star. Fatou, a long, free floating-arms detach and disengage -thin thing held together by big bony shoulders -their mechanics visible through light skin.
It shows you that its not sex, or race, or anything. Its just god. God calls me to these people because of their energy, their lust for life, their goodness, their strength, and positivity. One girl, and one boy. ...I tried to hide my utter fascination, awe, respect and appreciation for a woman who is married to a bum, beautiful, carrying the work of a full family, with a doom always tied to her back (sometimes crying), pounding millet, chasing ducks -and all she can bust out this huge smile though her eyes say "I beat my husband." I drive a charette. I used to wear jeans in Dakar. And I was raised in a family with no boys.
Farba - everywhere I look he is there. He is beautiful to watch and makes me calm. With a little girl and a wife, he took her to the hospital while I went to get a boisson -in a clean pink striped shirt and pink skirt - eyelids and lashes dark like mascara - and holding a large green umbrella. She didn't like me.
It all makes me feel horrible...I am def dieuxieme material. I can feel it. But I cannot leave my culture that far. ...which is why - with a mission to do - I turn my lock in the cold, fresh cement.
...Farba could make me think about that. Who am I?
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