Hey. We can bring this decrepit machine to its knees. People donβt care about the slander or bullshit. They want something different, something better, something real.
Fight like hell. We can have it.
Pope ChicharrΓ³n VIII
This writer is terrible. She regularly trolls my neighborhood Facebook group with questions for her "reporting," then posts the stories less than 24 hours later with the most alarmist quotes possible. Her posts are the worst examples of lazy both-sides reporting I've seen since my college newspaper.
Oh wow, I love this song so much. I didn't realize it was a murder ballad!
The dark entity who haunts my peripheral vision & I saw you from across the ritual chamber & we love your vibe
you can be driven into homelessness by someone like brian thompson, then legally murdered by someone like daniel penny, while the money that could have saved you is spent on murdering children in gaza.
The people who live next door to the mosque and curate an almost aggressive display of decor for every holiday, and look sideways at me every time I walk by, now have a thin blue line flag up. I don't know if they've had one up before, but good to know my instincts were correct!
Fighting what's to come starts with fighting the impulse to shame and other each other over obscure signifiers like "Are they posting right now?" Plenty of people are quietly on your side.
Or because they spent hours offline in the past few days, discussing how to remedy our rhetoric and improve things (hi). Or because they're fucking exhausted (hi). Grieving and processing look different for each person.
But that's not necessarily going to be revealed by social media posts. I know plenty of people who aren't posting because they care deeply, not because they don't. Or because they don't trust themselves not to say something they'll regret. Or because they already don't feel safe.
This is exactly the kind of divisive thing that got us here, looking askance at anyone who doesn't do liberalism or leftism the same way. I get the impulse to want to validate who's on your side, to know who you can trust.
Dear liberal and leftist friends: Don't do that. I saw someone post about how it's sus if someone isn't currently posting about political news. We don't owe anyone some performative display of being one of the good ones or whatever.
An acquaintance posted pics of herself partying with the winner of the election and had a problem when I said a single syllable about it: "Ew" on one photo, "Gross" on another. She couldn't take a single syllable of public criticism of that, but I'm the one she says is "crying"?
Yo @Facebook , when I unfriend someone, that means I want to stop seeing their posts in my feed, like immediately. I don't do it a lot, so please figure that out.
They do the time change before the election so we're all docile and exhausted, right? And our animals are climbing the walls and shelves, annoyed to be getting fed an hour later and picking up on our anxiety.
Last night's dream, cont.: I awoke with "A Season Just to Be" in mind.
Last night's dream, cont.: But then I had to run to the restroom. Before that, Michael Daves had been playing something for patients at the hospital. I realized it was based on the colonial poem that was on a mahogany drum I was holding. I was going to tell him, but he was busy.
Last night's dream, cont.: I was standing there looking at a translucent blue stone I found, trying to figure out whether it was edible, a marble, or a rock. I was going to tell Patrick my revelationβthat I finally understood how it was that animals couldn't tell what was edible.
Last night's dream, cont.: It was Dr. Max Goodwin telling me this, so I probably should have believed him the first time. I didn't realize what was happening because I couldn't see it myself right away. I thought there was something to thatβa song in it maybeβabout perspective.
Last night's dream: I was in the hospital. A surgeon was telling me I needed surgery to replace or repair a tendon in my left big toe. I refused surgery at first, but eventually looked at my big toe and noticed it had dropped, like it was pulled down tight. I changed my mind.
Every Saturday morning I feel like I'm experiencing one tiny part of (someone else's) Latinx childhood. My upstairs neighbor gets up early, blasts bachata, and vacuums everything. Sometimes she yells at her daughter. I'm so tired, but I like the bachata.
Last night's dream, cont.: I just wanted nice candles, nice cola, nice company. I awoke with Brandi Carlile's" "What Can I Say" in mind.
Last night's dream, cont.: So then I was pulling all this hair out of my cola, which maybe wasn't ideal and people maybe had some thoughts about, mostly just laughed if they even noticed. I was scooting between counters in an office kitchen area when I bumped backsides with T.J.
Last night's dream, cont.: Of course, then I noticed that some of the doors were off the cabinet, and I wanted to see if I could fix it real quick. Before that, I had been getting a cola, but for some reason, maybe I thought I was done with it, so I put hair from my brush in it.
Last night's dream: I was trying to get a couple candles out of a case I I kept them in, but all the candles in there were like half spent and/or melted to other candles and/or scents my ex liked but I didn't so much. A guy had wanted to go hang out, so that's what they were for.
Last night's dream, cont.: I awoke with Missy Higgins' "Where I Stood" in mind, thinking about the geography of all those buildings and trees, which were partly on the old property and along the old driveway.
Last night's dream, cont.: He said he was in the trees again like an araΓ±a. That was fine. I was going to lay out a plan to throw him the little red velveteen bag of tessera and somehow get it past the guy who was supposed to be mutually watching me. Shady things were happening.
Last night's dream, cont.: I knew PaweΕ had been doing stretches and exercise on the next balcony, but when I looked, he wasn't there. I figured out he was in a tree down the way from my treehouse, though. I called him and he answered in Polish, something about osobowoΕΔ.
Last night's dream: I was supposed to be at a work retreat, and as always, there was something wrong. I was supposed to be trapped in a room by the fact that if I wasn't, a colleague could leave. So I tricked him, said I was going to do a tarot reading. I gathered the tessera.
Tonight's dream, cont.: I didn't know what this must be doing to her, and I was so incredibly upset. I awoke with "The Magic That's for Me" in mind, terrified for the kitties.
