Author: Pelgris
The rabbit hole is more often metaphor than fact
We can always move forward in a physical way. Getting distance from our hurts by moving away.
By moving jobs, moving relationships.
Sometimes it’s the only option we have.
So it’s ok.
OK to take those out steps to a different life
Sometimes, though, we have the opportunity to move sideways.
Not so much out as through
Through holes in ourselves
In our dreams
Holes others have hollowed out in us
Holes the world has drilled through us
Movement sideways
Movement thru
It fills us up with our passage
It takes such herculean effort to complete such a path
Magic truly, internal and from without
But in the end
That broken journey
Is one of healing
For with the passage of self through these empty spaces
We become whole
At a destination unknowable
Slow ache builds the need
What I desire and what I have
Sit in juxtaposed divergence
In mind we exist together
Entwined and forever
But physical distance
That’s the trouble
Less depressed than frustrated
Time slips by
One more day without
(this was written and published On Monday, but WP failed and it got stuck in drafts)
Not a haiku, damn big words
Indecision paralyzation
Mind switching gears from outside stimulation
Just one more thing
Moving forward in the wake of treason
Trump’s actions in office while heinous were in no way done without the complicity of those in Congress. People who, either by cynical manipulation wore the colors of this fascist movement in a bid for power or through genuine passion for an ideology anathema to the ideals of this country, supported and conceded to this presidency all grounds of decency. Who under rule by then Majority Leader Mitch McConnell Decided to stonewall any effort to make the lives of Americans better. To deny safeguards both physical and financial to protect its citizens from a virus that has killed almost 1 in 10 people in these United States. To appoint federal and Supreme Court justices who would lead us into the future instead of miring us in a mythical past.
It is into this atmosphere that our President Elect Joe Biden wants to restore normalcy and cooperation. It is a false hope and the wrong move. You cannot settle with people who hold you in such contempt. Who will use your inability to enforce change to swing the pendulum back to the simmering fascism for the next populist ideologue to take advantage of.
There is no normal to recreate. There is no consensus which can be reached with those who either through cynicism or fanaticism have engaged in support of sedition. Anything less than the denial of these complicit parties will leave the cancer to metastasize. They must be denied their seats. New members must be seated and all activities they have engaged in must be brought to light.
We stand near the maelstrom, just past the lip. We can either forge a new future or try to make peace with those who have no true desire for it and plunge back into the gyre.
Writing tropes I could do without reading again
The only way to protect someone is to give them the freedom to choose. You must give them all the information and trust that their decision will be the right one for them.
You hope that the decision will coincide with yours. But it might not. And that’s ok. It has to be ok.
Taking away someone’s choice by providing narrow or no information is manipulation.
Ignorance is not safety.
It sucks. We want to protect the ones we love. But treating them like a child because it hurts you to take the neccesary steps. Because you think you know better… Takes away their agency. Doing so is a betrayal of their trust.
Walking down the road, always forward
Words seem inadequate now and I
At turns
Want to dance and laugh
Or scream and cry
No calm thing seems an adequate response
And yet that’s all I can do
Singing lullabies into a microphone
Recording future missives
And hoping tomorrow will be a different story
But sometimes the same
Because it’s not all bad news
So I want things to change
But be the same
But different
Life twists you about
And getting untwisted
It’s less a goal
Than something that just happens
In brief moments of
Clarity quiet
That soundless void between was and will be
Song of the Day-Swirling
Brain decides to remember
Sleep is a refuge
Except for the lucid dreams
From one life to next
Slept too long, woke too early
I say I’m a thing of endings but really I cling to that past like drowning
Like desire
I can’t seem to find an end
Maybe I’m looking to hard
Maybe I’ve never been a catalyst for an end
Others have been breaking and changing me
Mostly by their absence for so long
That when I try to end
Instead I see all the beautiful pieces of bow
And despair
I know theres a beginning
But I’m so tired
I wish I could rest
