Terror in the Year 9000

Might be the title, might be just something I have to say.  Things are pretty crazy these days.  If anything I want ever comes to pass, I might like to have a reckoning of these days before they ruin me entirely.  Something to pass down.  Not that it’s genius.  Not that anyone would care.  But maybe it would help motivate me to recall that there is more than just absorbing and consuming the plot points of other people’s lives as a method of passing my own.  It would, at the least, in the end, remind me that I have one or two thoughts that ping inside my cerebral cortex and make five hundred words worth of sense.

Tomorrow we vote.  What else is there but that? People might follow it up with prayer but prayer these days just feels like giving the Devil your PIN.  Suddenly all your hopes and dreams laid bare to people that have no empathy for them, no sympathetic regard.  I don’t know what will happen if people don’t put a chain on the beast.  I don’t know what it means for our undying souls.  People starve in this world every day, and in Yemen, by numbers that are so unholy, so unbearable to comprehend, the fact that anyone can sleep at night, can fold their hands and feel so pleased at the catbird seat upon which they sit blows my mind.   I don’t know how I will feel if the result isn’t positive.  I don’t know how to re-route the despair and fear.  I’ve done my part, I don’t know anyone who isn’t voting, if I find anyone I can reach out to tomorrow that will make any whit of difference, I shall.  And the rest has to be made to be survivable.

I say this because it is not as though I’m not doing my own sorts of small horror as it is.  We smashed up a bunch of people’s lives today.  Once I would have been despondent over the fact that people I work with are now no longer going to be working with me.  I would have known each person’s wife’s name, where their kid went to school, some factoid that would build a red thread between us.  I would be able to visualize the ways in which this is going to fuck their shit up.  Now, perhaps because I needed to find that way to make the job survivable – to not let it claim the creative parts of my self and soul – I walled off a lot of both myself and my interest in others.  So I don’t know the specific ways in which this damage has been done, I just know that it happened, and that distance is making it possible for me to think about parties and daylight savings and strange curiosities come and gone.

I think this is growing up?

More to say, more skin in more games.  Suffice it to say, I wanted to hear the world the way I say it and not through anyone else. So here I am.

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