One Breath at a Time

What a month. I did not intend to go a month without writing here. Weather. Holidays and family and friends. And more weather. Stuck away from home for a week. Then coordinating a wonderful team of interpreters for the local march last Saturday. Getting ready for an upcoming play this weekend and another one in two weeks.

Busy.

And distracted. And trying to distract myself from the distraction of the train wreck which became 'for reals' last Friday. I know it began before that, I know - don't think I'm that ignorant. And we can look back and back and back and see where it began and how it happened and so on.

But the officially recognized day the power ax wiped ink across pages and basic rights officially started being ripped away could be said to be Friday, January 20, 2017.

Yesterday, Monday, January 23, 2017, more pen slashing and reversals. Yesterday I said to a friend, "we'll be lucky if we survive day one." My friend reminded me that we've already survived day one - last Friday. And day two, Saturday and the Women's Marches. And day three, Sunday and we start into another week and watch as they carry out their burning as we sleep and wake and work.

My friend has started a countdown. We have so far survived five days. Meaning 1,456 days to go. Don't know if that's helpful or not - but there it is.

Today has been a hard day. I started reading the news before my day officially began and I need to not do that. Overwhelmed. Crying in the shower. Fighting back against hopeless as hard as I can. Kept my weekly writing date and got a little done on the story.

It's the story I started in the Fatalistic Fiction, Noir, and Dystopia class with Ariel Gore. Me! I'm writing a dystopian story. Not my usual, but that was my challenge to myself, To step out of the usual and write and do it new.

I can't live in hopeless. I can't breathe in hopeless. Today I will try to be easy on myself.

*   *   *

It is now a number of hours later.

My mood is darker. I am having intermittent problems focusing. I am enraged and I have to continue working.

The actions, the signatures, the blocks. This is crazy.

This is criminal.

This is the - I was going to say erosion of human rights, but erosion is slow (until the final crash?) - this is a word I won't even put here because it's not really that but it feels like that.

This is a huge stomp in the face and kick to the rights and

stomp

slash

kick

Hard day and it got worse.

I will make it through.

Wrote this morning. Dystopia.

Working tonight.

Trying to breathe. Trying to not go numb. Trying to not cry. Trying to keep aware/awake and not be divided not be crushed not fall under.

More.

For now - sending this out.

Breathing.