Liar, Part Deux

I wrote part one a long time ago.

I do not want to find anything out about you. I want to make no new discoveries. I am not a CSI wannabe. I do not deliberately investigate. Facts just fall into my lap, time and time again. Most of the time I keep them to myself, but sometimes I just want to expose you, not in a vicious way, but enough to let you know that I know.

I know!

I also know that it is pity you seek, although you claim otherwise. You want to paint this picture of your life for those who have not already been down that exhausting path with you. Paint that picture, go ahead. For what it is worth, I do not pity you.

I told someone the other day that 22,000 + people in Myanmar are not dead because they made innumerable bad choices or lacked life skills. I pity those victims of natural disaster. I pity those without a handful of rice to sustain them. I pity those whose lives--wrought with real struggle, who searched for a new day, a new opportunity, living under a despotic regime--were cut short. People drinking sewage or mothers whose babies will die from dysentery. They deserve pity.

I pity the Palestinians whose struggles I am waiting to write about--the ones with no decent living conditions, land deeds that hold no legal value, fathers who have buried their sons, mothers who have buried their husbands, entire families whose homes have been wiped out by the bulldozer or bodies caught in a crossfire. I pity those children who are brilliant but have no one to teach them, the voices that must be heard but are continually muzzled by the power of their occupier. They deserve pity.

Your trivialities are just that. Trivial.

But I keep you in my supplications.

However, please wake up. The time is now to be thankful.