11.23.2014

Journal, December 20, 1975 PM

So why write a journal in the first place? I hope I never get to the point of going back and reading it all over again – what a waste. That means I must be writing for someone else to read some day, & share my ideas or experiences or whatever. Maybe if my need to communicate in some way what goes through my brain day by day will keep me writing.

Went to my first church service in a long time today, a Catholic mass in San Antonio de Belén. The ritual really bums me out, always has. Reminds me of zombies or robots when people mumble answers to mumbled questions without thinking about what they’re saying. However, it’s really not as bad as all that, because they don’t take it too seriously. My tica {Costarican} sister and her friend giggled next to me through it all. Constant ritual indoctrination just becomes a routine, boring but cherished for its sentimental value. It doesn’t take over our minds.

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