That was fine.
I realize that I'm obsessed and it does no good. Dax Shepherd said something on one of his podcasts about how his wife wakes up every morning and starts pressing the lever of news for that hit of monkey coke because she's addicted to the horror of everyday's newest events in Washington.
I recognized myself in that.
Why do I feel as if every fucking thing that Trump does is something that I need to pay attention to? To bear witness to? To rage about, scream about, be horrified about?
None of this does any good at all and it's not good for my health and I know it.
I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT ANY OF IT!
Well, I can call my reps, I can send money to groups that ARE trying to do something about it. And of course- I can vote.
But there's something in me that wants to examine each and every new atrocity and pick at it until it bleeds or runs with pus. Perhaps so that I can share this all with my fellow sufferers, so that we can compare the nasty wounds that are being created by each day's events.
I don't know.
I do know, however, that I sure don't feel like celebrating any damn fourth of July. Not that I ever really do but this year more (less?) than ever.
I've noticed that my across-the-street neighbor who generally flies the flag for every patriotic holiday is not flying it today. He may be patriotic but he's also intelligent, educated, and as left-leaning as anyone can be.
We're getting the tiniest of rains. Just enough to make the air smell of ozone, to make the gentlest sound of water slapping the ground as it rolls off the roof overhang. There was an earthquake in California. There is a heat wave in Alaska. India is becoming too hot for human habitation.
It was 104 degrees today when I got in my car after being in the restaurant. It cooled down to 98 when I got rolling but still.
One hundred and four degrees.
I've got to stop poking at these wounds. I've got to just live my life in the very best way that I can, treating everyone with respect and doing what I can to cut down on carbon in the atmosphere.
I've got to stop letting Donald Trump dictate my mental health, my wellbeing.
I remember the morning after he got elected and I sobbed and sobbed, as so many of us did.
We knew. We knew, we knew, we knew.
We didn't know.
We had no idea how bad it would get.
Well. Here we are.
This picture sums it up and makes me as fearful for my country as anything I've ever seen except for perhaps the pictures of children in cages wearing aluminum foil blankets.
Ellen Abbott posted it on Facebook today.
There you go.
We finished watching the film Rolling Thunder Revue last night and you know what killed me about it? The fact that we had a moment. We, the people, specifically but not exclusively, the young people had a moment wherein we thought that we could actually change the world.
Hell. We even had Bob Dylan and Joan Baez.
And that is one of the reasons I am so fucking depressed today and is also one of the reasons I need to let some of this shit go. People are going to do what people do and the way it's going, the planet's going to go up in flames anyway.
I'm making another tomato pie. Mayonnaise and all.
Oh, Trump, you're killing me.
Be safe, y'all. Hang tough. Things ARE going to change. They always do. Hopefully, we'll have time to save ourselves, to repair, to fix, to energize, to feel joy once again.
Let's not let that man put us in early graves. Let us live long enough to see justice.
Believe in freedom.
You know. All the good.
We have to try, at least.