I have been walking almost every day since I found out my blood pressure is high for my age. Every time I walk up the hill to return to my house, I try to sense how I feel about the neighborhood. I figured this place has no nutrients that I can take in. I don’t even know how to access the nutrients that this place possibly has. Whenever I walk this area, I feel like I’m eating food that smells like the fridge.  Maybe,the environment that I grew up in is so different from this area, I don’t have a channel to access the place like here, which is one of my hypotheses. Or maybe, the soil here has been buried so deeply and covered with such a hardened lid on the top that no life can sprout. People here don’t want diversity but they are only interested in staying privileged.

I brought back soil and weeds from my father’s vegetable garden, and have been growing them on pots. Looking back now, I think my weakened mind needed it desperately, though the voice telling me so was so frail. Now, I realize how much seeing these weeds saves my mind. It reminds me that I need to get out of here.