I long to be bored again, to get a break from the firehose of rancid water that they have been spraying in my face for what feels like longer than four years.
I sit bolt upright in bed at night wondering if Pennsylvania or Florida will heat up from ice blue to dusty rose. I refresh all the websites all workday long to catch the latest outrage that may move the needle somewhat—his lies about dangers in the very air, the smears of our uniformed dead, more gasoline in a summer of street flames.
It is a constant firehose of shit, out of control and out of proportion. Too fast to keep up with or know what will matter in the end.
I want to return to those years when I did not need to stay vigilant. When Congress and the president could go about their boring business and I would not have to worry about how many hairline fractures they could inflict on America.
No comments:
Post a Comment