we're wide awake. we dreamed there was a fountain. our tongues are clamped behind our teeth. and our teeth will not open.

hello, all. 

we're back in the states, and have been for several days now. 

and as others have written here and can attest to by word of mouth and countenance, 

it's hard. 

we don't want to be back in america. 

every once and a while, i will feel the unnerving lack of NOT carrying a child in my arms. 

of NOT hearing the phrase, "bala swing."

it's strange. 

how can you reconcile living in america after encountering haiti, even if we did not encounter it in full? 

what can we do with this? 

we're wide awake, and there's blood on the promenade. 

we're wide awake, and we dreamed there was a fountain. 

we're wide awake, and our eyes are searching. 

we're wide awake, and all that is within our chests wants to pull us back to an island in the carribean. 

right now, i have nothing more to say. 

i'll probably write some more in the next couple days, and i hope that the others do, as well. we all some some incredible things to process, cry over, laugh over, come to terms with, wrestle with, smile at, and stare at alone in a dark room with sweat on our skin. we're more than a little confused. 

and that's a very, very good thing. 

it's just difficult to articulate. bear with us.

thanks for caring. 

-simon