I am sorry. It is getting too hard. I want to write. I want to create my art or write essays that motivate people to do the write thing or at least view their fellow human beings as just that. Giving a shit, though, is starting to hurt too much. I read so much hate and it reaches into my chest and squeezes, and some days I cannot stop crying. I see, or worse don’t see, people outraged about poor folks being denied water in a city in the wealthiest nation on Earth. I read people demonize an entire people and blame them for the deaths of their children because how dare they not be happy about being occupied? I want to have hope, I want to have faith, but it is seems so impossible sometimes.
It is so loud and so much and it infects me. I feel my rage welling up and I want to drain it away, I want to not be angry, but in the face of all that hate, all that violently psychotic narcissism, how cannot one not be angry? Sick thoughts invade my own processes and I wonder if this planet would not be better off without us. I read about near misses from solar flares and wonder why couldn’t it have happened, and then I hate myself a little, sometimes a lot, for thinking that.
Maybe there is no hope for us. Maybe we were born to hate and hurt. I mean, people seem to take joy from charred Palestinian children, they actually think it is a moral good. They worry more about their taxes, wanting to just turn away children with howls of rage and even firearms rather than figure out how to get them safely home when their homes are hellholes of violence that our comfort bought. How do you reason with that? How can I believe we are the inspiring creatures I always right about when we inflict this on each other? Please tell me how because I am falling here.
I sometimes wish for the peace of the grave, to get away from it all, and I turn away from it only because I know it would hurt the people I love. I cannot base hope or life or love on that. I need more. I need a glimmer from you people and not the endless streams of selfishness and bloodlust I see. I want to be in love with you all again, and sometimes it almost happens but then someone opens their mouth. Someone condemns a child for being born in the wrong place, or uses the acts of those hurting them to condemn another child. Are we really no better than this?
I want to believe in us. Everywhere I turn, though, I see hypocrisy, greed, and fear. Give me more. Give you more. It is there, I still believe, we just have to reach out for it.