Thursday, June 4, 2020

I am not really sure how to say any of this.

The sky is buzzing, as it has been for the last four days or so. The sirens ring out as they have for the last two months, but for a different reason this week. The helicopters and the drones are like shooting stars from Hell. We are under attack.

I am starting to think covid was a blessing, IF it makes Americans pay attention.

Are you paying attention?

I live in Chocolate City. I have for 17 years now after living in high fructose corn syrup vanilla for my formative years. I think I have taken DC for granted for too long. My neighbors are black, white, latino, gay. It's normal for me now. It wasn't growing up in Southwest Ohio. I live in a kind of anti-bubble, where everyone is so different and coexisting that I forget how most Americans live in bubbles in the rest of the country.

I feel guilty because I am not at the protests and I keep asking myself why? Is it covid? Is it laziness? Is it that the disillusionment that has plagued me so long makes me believe that this won't change anything?

I struggle to find the words because I know that there are no words to say. I've sat here for the past several nights in DC, a city with 700,000 residents and no congressional representation, watching helicopters and surveillance aircraft overhead and hearing the pop pop pop of militias attacking our own citizens.

What is it about white America that makes them fear The Other so much?

Anyway, don't fall for white supremacist shit like All Lives Matter or norse tattoos or thin blue line flags. Think.

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