Greetings. It’s quarantine day sixty-six. I’m sitting in my office, it’s early in the morning and my eyes are tired. My head is giving a low hum – will it or won’t it have a migraine today? I’ve been going to bed past 1 and 2 a.m. this week – not super conducive for the day job. (But we won’t bother with that here in the sacred creative space).
I look at my phone too much – I know it’s not healthy or productive, and I know if I were to just smash the thing, I would feel infinitely better. Social media is toxic. Arguing is toxic. In the midst of quarantine, (social media, not arguing) is one of the only ways we can connect with our communities. I’m tempted to disconnect – but with the world playing out in real-time, it feels wrong and scary to disconnect. I’ll miss something – a new baby photo from a friend, war, famine, economic shutdowns, and presidential meltdowns. I’m sure many of you civic-minded folks feel the same.
I am that person on your Facebook feed who constantly posts my latest ramblings about the fucking state of everything – and how everything is fucked if we don’t do something. (Though admittedly, any time spent on social media is often a distraction from doing ANYTHING – I know, I know). The truth is, I’m afraid, just like the rest of you. I’m afraid people aren’t listening to science or common sense – HELL, I know they aren’t.
Do you remember the bus scene from Nightmare on Elm Street 2? I think I’m the person waving from the street, trapped in a bad dream. “Stop!! Get off! The bus is going to crash! You’re all going to die! Can’t you hear me?”
Except, I’m on the bus. We’re all on the bus. I don’t know where it’s going to take us, or if any of us are going to get out of it alive. You can’t control a pandemic – there is a virus ripping through our cities and towns, our homes. The course of nature and evolution are bigger than all of us, even though Americans (for a myriad of reasons – primarily racism), think we’re the superior, chosen ones and that these things only happen to other people – never our good, white “Christian nation.” (Alas, I’ve already ranted about that here).
I’m not so much afraid of the virus itself – yes COVID 19 is scary. The resulting deaths sound horrific – the worst flu you’ve ever had, not being able to breathe, feeling like your lungs are drowning – and doing this alone in a hospital bed, being intubated, unable to hug or say goodbye to your family – it’s straight out of a horror movie. It’s rational to be afraid of that – but other than social distancing, wearing a mask, taking vitamin C, washing my hands, etc. there’s not much else I can do to keep myself and my family safe. It’s out of my hands so it’s not something I spend much time worrying about. (Yet).
But I am afraid of people. I thought I’d seen the darkest side of humans – but it’s so much worse than I ever imagined. That cruelty and horror is not just seeping out of the internet – it’s flooding the streets – endless shootings of innocent black men, harassment of nurses, violent, deadly attacks on “essential” retail workers who simply ask people to follow the rules – wear a mask, save lives. Those who have never had their freedom threatened, feel like this tiny inconvenience is a massive violation. It’s terrifying to watch them run towards a cliff, pushing and shoving minorities, the poor, the immunocompromised with them. Their teeth gnawing and gnashing. “You won’t take my freedom, by God!”
These are the same people who don’t mind Hispanic babies being ripped from their mothers and placed in cages. They say women aren’t only asking to be raped – they deserve it. They say shit like: kill that n***er, get the rope and hoses! He deserved it! She deserved it! They don’t just hide behind their prejudice anymore – they boldly declare that they would kill trans and queer folks. The elderly and sick are “not their problem.” It’s the same sort of hysteria that uttering the statement “Black Lives Matter” incites in white people. It hits the very core of them to even consider that anything matters outside their white selves in their white circles.
Some people say you should separate creative life from politics or that everyone is “too caught up in politics.” (Don’t trust those people). Yes, you should do your own research, check your sources, make informed opinions and decisions. But life is political. If you don’t think so, then it’s not affecting you. You are sitting in a place of privilege and you should be using that privilege to make life a little less political for everyone else. POC and other minorities have to fight for everything. Innocent black men are hunted down and murdered by cops and neighborhood vigilante lynch mobs. And people defend the aggressor. Not everything involves politics or privilege, Jessie – but it does! White women can spiral out and make threats for being asked to wear a mask, ignorant, racist men can storm government office buildings carrying assault rifles. But black men can’t go for a run – Ahmaud Arbery couldn’t. White people hunted him down, trapped and murdered him – for having the audacity to breathe. I’ve spent half an hour crying that Travis Miller couldn’t even do his job. A black man who is working, trying to take care of his family can be held hostage by white men unless he explains himself. Why are you here? This is our street! Just tell us why you are here and we’ll let you go.
But what about fucking freedom?
These phones that deliver us toxic media, harassment and social interaction are the only thing that keep some people alive, or at the very least capture the last minutes of a life – telling a truth that would otherwise be covered up. Can you imagine hitting the “go-live” button and thinking: at least they’ll know where to find my body. This screen that gives me headaches can mean life or death for someone else. How dare I think of turning mine off?
Horror stories that have existed for minorities for thousands of years, have completely spilled off the screens. They get bigger and bigger when it’s supposed to be getting better. That frightens me. This week has been quite overwhelming for me (and many others) – the vitriol in people keeps escalating. I tend to think and write more than I introspect – and this week I feel like I need to make an appointment with myself to remedy that. A good friend said I have too much hope for humanity. This week, I really felt that. I hope for change, I fight for change (I think) – and don’t get me wrong, I know in the end goodness and kindness will prevail. But this isn’t just an out of control bus driven into no-man’s land by some nightmare monster, it’s being carried by angry white mobs wearing gnarly teethed “good-guy” masks, and tossed off the cliff, they delight in following it. This self-inflicted genocide is a conundrum I haven’t been able to work out in my head. I’ve tried not to pointlessly argue with racists and Trump-supporters anymore (though it’s impossible for me to never speak up) – but I know they aren’t going to change, they don’t care. I guess, I thought that they were misguided, it was all due to programming (some is). I didn’t see them gleefully setting the fires until now. I didn’t truly see how much joy and revelry they get from their hatred. The “can’t you see what’s happening?” part of me died a little, if not completely. They don’t want to see – they enjoy hurting others. I can’t change that.
I try to find a solution, of course – one that I can live with. I’m not one to give up. Maybe the solution is to just let the fucking bus go? I can’t stop brainwashed fucking zombie, hate-eaters whose own happiness is not enough – they must thrive on inflicting pain and suffering on others on their way out. I can wave and walk away from the cliff. Let their god save them.
Oh, but I did take up guitar (again). I’ve tried before, but I have the attention span of a wall fly so I always lose interest. I’ve almost learned four songs in two nights. I needed a fucking outlet. The other option was lying in the floor, staring at the ceiling like I was living some teenage existential crisis. I’m far too fucking old to win at Donnie Darko so I’ll stick with the fucking Freddy Krueger metaphors. I can handle a nightmare monster.
Sleep well, #DreamWarriors. I am going to watch Donnie Darko, though. It’s a damn good movie.
#BlackLivesMatter #Don’tBeAnAss #RacistsSuck
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