it’s the kinda night that leaves you alone, in the tv room, smoking a bowl with a grill lighter.
yea. that kind of night.
and as you sit there, trying to coordinate the push down with the click, you realize, this is all you will ever have. and just as you are about to fall down a rabbit hole of depression and whoa-is-mes, it hits you.
like a ton of bricks, it hits you.
and you can no longer go there. you are no longer falling. because although things are hard.
let’s be real.
you are a white girl from a middle class family that grew up in the 90s. you have a boyfriend that (you think) loves you. you live in a decent apartment in one of the most progressive parts of the country that (thinks it) rules the world. you have a job, although, not a full time job, but you clean and you cook and you pitch-in more than you would if you actually paid half of the rent (which you don’t). you are poor enough to receive Medicaid, so you finally have health insurance for the first time in ten years (thanks, Obama). you are living the dream. and then you think,”wait, this is crazy. I want so much more.”
and then you think, “but… kids are dying of cancer. Israel is invading Gaza (again). a bunch of Dutch people are dead because of a war that had nothing to do with them. tens of thousands of kids are being protested against in the streets of your own country. people’s organs are being sold on the black market. corporations are people. that guy wasn’t convicted for killing Treyvon Martin.” on and on and on you go, until you are no longer sad about your own circumstances, but devastated about the world around you.
you want to help.
you want to be able to do anything. but you can’t.
or you don’t know how.
you are stuck.
stuck in the world. a whirlpool in the middle of the ocean. somewhere far off, without even knowing it, an oil spill is being pulled towards you. spinning and spinning and sucking everything in: an island of plastic, the last of the polar ice caps, along with the polar bears, nuclear waste and radioactive salmon.
how will you ever get out?
is there any way to stop it?
not unless you have found a way to stop gravity. which you haven’t (because you can’t). so you cry in the morning on your way to work. and you comment on internet news articles. and you hope someone changes their mind. just one. cause then, at least there is hope. but as I always say, hope could kill a person.
(either way, we’re dead).