21 May 2011
Don’t get me wrong. I am for infection control. I am for the prevention of spreading contagious diseases. The gloves I am referring to are the one’s that cover your heart, your love.
I am for love.
I am a speech-therapist. In Soweto. In Africa. In a public hospital. Yes, we have electricity. Yes, we have running water. Yes, we have lights. But for most of these patients: patient x, patient y, the lights remain switched off. I have been inspired by this dark place. Where light does not come from a bulb in the roof, but from a smile, a warm hand, a gesture, a tear, a dedication, a difference.
I have been writing for a while now. Scribbling my feelings and frustrations on cheap pieces of recycled paper in a book no one reads but me. I want to share them. You may agree or not. You may be offended or not. You may like what I write or not. You may feel depressed or not. The purpose of this blog is not to depress but to inspire.
The purpose of this blog is to unglove love.
I am for infection control. I am for love. Say no to gloves.