TRAYDOR
i never thought i would be writing about something that changed my life 11 years ago. the problem is that the thing i wrote was from the point of view of "the other side"...
it's so ironic that i wrote about what my father fought against more than a decade ago which turned awry and left a bitter taste in his mouth.
i feel like a traitor.
you see, i was one of those artists who went there and showed support for these marginalized people who were duped by the government, by the rich and the powerful. i almost came face-to-face with an M-16 there. i slept on newspapers on the ground. we tried to pry the government's and public's attention to their plight.
no one heard us.
then a decade later i would be writing about the same place which now will be turned into a playground for the rich, who will be transported via helicopters.
somewhere deep inside it hurts.
now i ask myself, what am i really doing?
