Packing packing packing, which accidentally caused me to simultaneously pack up my feelings, which caused me to be a brat for the last week, and which is causing me a little bit of much needed grief today. I hear that people in Kenya are honest, or at least lack the same sort of "tact" we have in America. Tact is such bullshit. It's like throwing someone off a building and providing a car pillow to catch the fall. I mean, if we're going to give a dramatic metaphor, that is what it is like.

I think that people really do want to believe what they are saying or really want it to be true. But that doesn't make it better. It mostly makes it worst. It's becoming increasingly apparent that people's words don't match their actions, and in general, it is testing my patience and making me frustrated. I am exhausted from weeding through what everyone says, trying to figure out which bits were true and which things were said to just make them feel a little less guilty. "You, like your mother, put undo burden on people who talk too much to remember what they've said." I guess I put too much weight on everything people say to me, which is just not how we do things around here. I spend too much time worrying about being sure I articulate everything appropriately, I am always so fucking worried about meaning what I say that half the time I don't say anything at all. And I always make the mistake of thinking that everyone thinks the same way I do, and then I get angry at them for not doing so. I feel so desperately the need to call everyone on their bullshit, or to get out of here and since I lack the nerve and because it is considered generally impolite and because half of the things I want to call people on are long since passed and I would likely be accused of "dwelling". So instead, I'm getting the fuck out of here for a while. Which is, of course, not to say that I won't miss it, as I am sure you all know by now due to the thousands of times I have panicked/written about panicking about missing everything. But sayonara dudes, I've got to get out of here, I'm losing my grip.

I'll write you letters, they will probably be too honest, but I'll be too far away to be properly worried about your reactions, which will probably not be as dramatic as I picture them in my head.