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.

A Brief Visit

And so, here I am, a year after almost opting to shut this down, visiting again briefly to say hello.  I've not posted on this site at all during the past year and I suspect it has not been missed.  But maybe, just maybe, someone will notice this post.  We'll see.

Or Whatever

It happened again, as it so often does. I listened to music that caused me to tear-up. And again, this time, it was a Cat Stevens piece, among others. Surprisingly, though, it started with Cast Your Fate to the Wind. It happens.

I met a friend for drinks last night. For reasons that remain a mystery to me, I was in a "spiritual" mood, i.e., I could not keep my emotions in check. Everything I thought of, spoke of, heard, or thought about, brought me to the edge of tears. I do not like that. Not only because it's not "manly," but because it suggests a level of weakness I find disdainful. I do not find tears in men disdainful, as a rule, but I find whimpering, simpering, uncontrolled sobbing unappealing. Not only in men, either. Yet that's what I sometimes deal with. It IS embarrassing. My friend said I should not be embarrassed by it; easier to say than to accept.

This same friend wishes, deeply, for me to see the error of my ways and to embrace Jesus Christ as my Savior. That will not happen. She says she will pray for me...for it...and that she hopes I will embrace religion for what it is for her. No, I tell her. That will not happen. While I appreciate that religion can provide a needed support for many, it will not provide that for me. Because I find the premise absurd. I do not believe in fairies. I do not believe in magic. I do not believe in a supreme being. She listens quietly and responds that it's not magic. It's "faith" that I lack, she says. I simply do not acknowledge that there are powers beyond my comprehension, she suggests. Poor me. No, I do not acknowledge such things. Poor her. It is embarrassing to me that people who are otherwise rational still cling to beliefs that I find such absurd bullshit.

I should not be embarrassed, though, any more than I should be embarrassed by my tears.

Yet still she prays. I cannot help but appreciate her fruitless efforts. They are genuine expressions of hope that I, too, will accept her fantasy of an everlasting life. If it weren't so utterly absurd and fanciful, I would appreciate it more. But it is, at the heart of it, mindless longing for something that has never been, and will never be.

It's hard to be friends with an atheist, I suspect, if one is a committed Christian or Muslim or Hindu or whatever.

Cast Your Fate to the Wind

I'm listening to Cast Your Fate to the Wind. I remember hearing it for the first time when I was very young. Even then I was deeply moved by it. A kid whose eyes teared listening to an instrumental piece. What is it about that music that makes emotions well up in me? Ever since I was a kid. Strange.

Music: Somebody That I Used to Know--Walk off the Earth

Soon, I t Will be Time to to Say So Long to this Blog

The time has come to acknowledge that this blog did not turn into anything like I envisioned it to be.  Rather than try to resurrect it and make it into something it's not, I have decided to examine the few posts I've made, save the ones that have merit of some kind, and kill the remainder of this beast.  That will happen soon...relatively soon...as soon as I decide to make it happen. I am in no particular rush, but I do enjoy wrapping up loose ends when the mood strikes me.   Getting these pesky glimpses into my deeply troubled psyche off the internet is important.  Taking that step, I will be one step closer to purifying something...me...that needed it long before now.  It's truly important.  It  matters. 

It matters deeply, but only in the most superficial way. 

Peace

It can't hurt to wish for peace on earth.  But the effort required to achieve it seems too great for humankind to succeed in achieving it.  Oh, it's achievable.  But we're just not willing to set our personal and parochial interests aside long enough to make it happen.

The desire for peace may be universal, but I am afraid it's not.

Regardless of that sad assessment, I do wish peace for all of my friends and my family.  If we can't achieve it on a national or global scale, let's just do it locally, from our doorsteps to the end of the street.