I Miss My Friends

I'm writing this because I need a place to cry. I need a place to say I wish I could explain how the world turned out the way it did. This afternoon, I read blog posts made by people I have grown to love, long distance, over the years. Robin & Roger, Tara, Kathy x 2, Teresa, Audra, Phil, Betsy, Be, Ellie, ...so many more. These are people who became my friends, albeit in most cases only electronically. But they matter. And I'm so afraid the world under Donald Trump will endanger all the goodness I found in those people. I wrote on my own blog, in a post I've since taken down for fear of being murdered by Trump supporters, that I hate America for what it's done to itself, and that is commit suicide. But suicide may be the best option in a world in which hatred and rabid nationalism are worshiped. My tears flow for democracy, decency, and decorum. Yes, even decorum. Something I once eschewed as artificial now seems synonymous with civility.

The thing that makes my experience even more troubling and difficult is that I chose to leave Facebook, because my feed was so paralyzingly horrid and painful. But leaving Facebook left me with almost no exposure to the friends I love. God, I wish another social medium without the venom would erupt into the public consciousness. But, for now, I feel alone, abandoned (I know I'm not, but I feel that way), and unable to share my grief with people who, I know, feel it, too.

Goddamn Trump and his minions. I hope the bastards suffer for what they're planning to do to freedom, decency, empathy, and compassion. I have become the sharpest sword in what I hope will be the means to disembowel them. Metaphorically.