There seem to be symptoms in everything these days. Symptoms of illness, symptoms of pain, symptoms of problems, symptoms vs causes, symptoms of a corrupt political establishment, symptoms of much bigger problems, symptoms of mental illness, symptoms of hypertension, symptoms of anemia, symptoms of fibroid pain, symptoms of fatigue, symptoms of depression, symptoms of demise…
I had made myself a promise to step back and redirect my focus towards what’s real and right in front of me, the relationships I need to build, the loved ones I care for, the child I mother, when I can, or am allowed!
Sometimes after I’ve been away for awhile I come back and I’m relieved. I’ll have missed the latest atrocity, or it’s a slow news day, or I manage to immerse myself in Amazon binge-watching of…whatever and stay distracted.
I want to say there’s a third of me who wants to retreat and hide. Who just wants to live her life, like we all do.When can we go back to that quiet existence where politics didn’t matter, and if it did, we could still just ignore it?
(…I’m not really asking those questions.)
I can’t ignore anything anymore. I can only escape for small spurts of time. It’s not that apathy has reasserted itself. In fact, apathy would be easier, almost welcome.
No, it’s the place where radicals like me land once we transcend that space of apathy and fall instead right down the heart of a checked, but brewing anger. It’s the right kind of anger, though, that fuels me into action. An anger that says, “we’re full up, here. There’s nothing left to take, there’s no more blood in these veins to drain, no essence left to strip from my existence.
And not just me, my fellow man, who feels the wall, too. The wall we’ve hit with blow after blow after blow after blow…after blow…after blow…where what we feel and hear inside says, “Nope. that’s as far as we can go.’
I’ve written about this place before and wondered when it would come. If it would come. When I myself would meet a place where one more step forward would kill my soul.
There’s just a place, beyond anger, beyond hopefulness, beyond despair. It’s a tired draggy, slow-walking shed of what’s no longer allowed.
These layers, this acquiescence,
“don’t rock the boat”, “just get along, now”
They are falling from my sleeves.
They are not being picked back up. They’re staying there, dead, along with all my other upheavals, my other tentativeness, my doubts. There are no more doubts. Just truths too precious to squander, they’re so rare now to find.
The truth for me is, I’m not giving up, I’m not giving in, I’m not getting out of the way. I’m not moving on or being pointed in another direction. No.
- My direction is clear, and the buck stops here.
- There will be no more railroading without resistance.
- We will not be bullied or sidelined or ignored.
- We will be heard. On our terms, set in our way, where and when and how we want.
- The consequences of this be damned.
- Some things are worth fighting for.
You don’t want to come to me? Walk my line of compromise? See who crosses first? Fine. Because it won’t be me. While you negotiate how close you’ll come or far you’ll step, I’ll be immovable, watching TV. Compromise? What’s a compromise?
Well, it’s not the game you’re playing, so I’m done playing too. I’m taking my ball back but I’m not going home. I’m standing my ground and speaking my mind and no one has to listen but all of it must be said.
I was reminded today about compromise, which isn’t the daily word- that word is “symptom.” Well, compromise is a symptom of the fallacies of hypocrites. I hear their voices, but they aren’t allowed in. They’re only warning shots in the dark that danger is near. So is being sucked up into their sweet-talking syrupy assurances that everything will be alright, just trust me, and go back to sleep, now. When you awake it will all be better…
Huh, not falling for that one anymore, either.
The time for compromise is over. We’re at war. What I consider domestic terrorists have hijacked our government with their corporate lobbyist and dirty campaign money, their lying propagandized media reframing and their legalized bribery and corruption is Done. I’m Done.
Done. Done. Done.
I’m here. You’re there. And when we meet it will be on MY battleground, when I say, and there will be nothing you can do to change my mind or silence my voice, other than kill me…
I won’t be waiting for that, but I’ll willingly put my life on the line for a righteous and noble fight.
Saving democracy sure ought to be one.