Hide & Seek

I've lost something and it refuses to be found. Every time I think I have it cornered, it disappears.
I've considered putting out an Amber Alert on it, but it's not a physical entity, and the cops are busy making sure protests don't turn to riots.

One time, I think I was drunk, I managed to hold it in my arms for a few seconds, hold it close to my sobbing face, before it inevitably disintegrated into ash.

I know it's not gone. It's just not as strong as it once was.

Hope is fragile, but it's hard to kill.

I haven't been able to sleep. I worry. I hurt for all the Others who are terrified. I try to remind myself that this isn't the first time in history polarizing leaders secured seats of power. That we've endured through hard times before and somehow saw our way through. That people are generally good, despite their capacity for cruelness.

I tell myself so many things to get to sleep.

Because I've learned enough history to notice the trend of those same men running on a platform of hate. Those same leaders have a formula: foster more anger and hate, blame all the problems on a misunderstood group of people, and quickly eliminate all the people who oppose them being in power.

First quietly, and then publicly. Kinda like how when simple primary syphillis goes untreated  it progresses into tertiary syphillis which causes the victim to become dementedly mad.

The order of the group is always the same. First, limit access to the ones who share what's happening: the reporters and the writers. Then those who gather facts on whoever can argue against your misinformed claims about the world: the scientists and the doctors. And finally those who influence the youth with wisdom and education: the teachers and the past leaders who could spark a rebellion.

This is, of course, the worst case scenario. People will say this future I talk of is dramatic and overly-imaginative.

But no one has yet to say that it's not possible.

I'm scared beyond belief. I can't understand how some people are so calm. How is it life as usual right now for so many people?

Maybe they know something I can't comprehend right now. I'm going to trust that they know what they're doing by supporting this man. I'm not going to point and blame them for all the things this man has done and said. I go back to facts and logic to comfort myself.

Based on statistics, I know that not all of these people are like this man. There is a standard deviation in this group for good versus evil. And I can't help but wonder if maybe that's going to be the new standard for human decency.

It would be easy to encase myself in anger and scream and fight. Though, to be honest, my throat is dry from swallowing away that urge.

I'm choosing to do something different, something I believe to be the harder path. I'm trying to morph all this disbelief and anger into something that isn't so volatile, something easier to contain, something that brings out compassion. I'm trying to strip it of its hot, bitter shell so I can uncover the truth inside, the reason so many people are so angry right now.

Sorrow and pity for us all.

It's almost like all those books I read have prepared me for this. I remember the words of Ghandi, of MLK, and all those fictional characters who lived through similar times like this like Gandalf the Grey and Aslan. They talked of peace and kindness and love. So that's what I'm doing, and it's fucking hard, like walking-barefoot-in-a-lawn-made-of-thumbtacks hard.


I'm still crying. Hell, I'm crying now as I write this.  I've cried while I've sat at my cubicle, while I've driven my car through thick morning traffic, while I've picked up my order at the drive-through. I don't bother to wipe away my grief anymore. My quiet weeping, is a form of personal protest, and it disturbs no one.

I'm going to stand for what I believe. I'm going to live in the light --no, not just live there, I'm going to BE the light. I'm going to try to be kind, even in the face of hatred. When I encounter another man who comes up to me and says, "Go back to your own country!," I'm going to dig deep, so so deep into myself and try to keep my head up.

I'll be a little preoccupied, though.

See, I'm still looking for hope. If you know where to find it, please let me know.