Fuel For My Fire


Quick Laundry List: moving out of Buff under crap circumstances, family crisis 1, living back in the closet, family crisis 2, living on the edge of poverty, listening to whiny white kids with better finances than me complain that they live in poverty (triggering much?), and watching a party I had a bucket load of faith in make the worst mistake of their 15 years. Did I miss anything? Probably, but I think this will do. It has been a really, really lousy 9 months for me, and frankly I am spoiled for choice when it comes to periods of crisis. No one thing the last year tops the worst event in my life (though the two family crises, both related, come close) but it feels like a dog pile.

The last week or so, with the exception of my wonderful trip to Auburn, I have felt like giving up. Part of me wanted to, and maybe still wants to, just find a job cleaning toilets overnight so I never have to really interact with people anymore. My faith in humanity has been challenged in ways both large and small. Once a day I find myself crying and unable to stop and I hate myself for that, so I cry a little more. Some days I have even thought about that ultimate act of selfishness. Do not worry, it does not last.

It is not always easy to find ways out of that, especially when you think the rug has been pulled under you by people you love and trust. I had to find the motivation and frankly all my usual sources seemed to slip away. Until I remembered one of the simplest, most overlooked, ways to do it: music.

I have been listening to Rage Against the Machine non stop the past couple of days. They fire me up and remind me what is important and how much I want to stay in the fight, even if I cannot find exactly where that fight is at the moment. I may not know who I am going to be standing shoulder to shoulder with, but it will be someone, and we will keep doing what needs to be done, and they, and those that I have fought alongside before, are my real fuel. Rage was just the match I could not find.

All of you who continue to fight, even if I do not believe in the organization you fight with anymore, inspire me. The music may have woken me up, it was my alarm clock, but you are my morning coffee and my lunch time javaccino.  You keep your fists in the air demanding a living wage, decent schools, a proper safety net, a justice system worthy of the name, and so much more. You keep the pressure on to keep our water and air from being poisoned. You raise your voices in the face of racism, sexism, hetero and cis sexism. You are all rock stars and I am in awe of you.

I am not about to beat myself up for faltering. It happens to all of us. We get exhausted, and life does a good enough job beating us up. We all need a pick me up now and then and you are mine. That is all I really needed. Well, that, and maybe a hug.



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