Dirty laundry

Been away a bit.

Been busy, but that’s not why there haven’t been many posts.

The news has EXPLODED with tragedy and I just can’t keep up.

I can’t feel angry at all these human tragedies. I’m fucking numb. Every headline just eating at my soul, screaming “Say something! Do something! Stop sitting there you useless twit.” Then I open the dashboard, start to write… and then start deleting til it’s all gone.

Nothing feels like enough. Nothing seems to do justice to the injustice of what I’m reading in the news.

It feels like my efforts simply add up to conscience masturbation. A way for me to feel I’ve done my part without doing more than subjecting the world to my own petty opinion.

Basically… who fucking cares what I think about anything? I’m just another asshole with a blog. Trying to be important. To say Say Something. But so WHAT?

You know what though? After some thinking. Some soul searching, I know that opinions matter. That writing matters. Because communication is the most important tool we all possess and wield in our own ways. And that not everyone likes reading dry facts from a newspaper. Some people will LIKE hearing what I have to say. A lot probably won’t, but if my spoonful of spider-infested sugar can help the medicine that is awareness of current events go down… then damn right I’m going to keep going.

Even though it isn’t enough.

Because it will never be enough. Sure, I could do more. And maybe some day I will. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and the Avengers are the only ones who can save the world in 90 minutes or less.

So for now, I’m gonna do my piddly little best. And that’s just gonna have to be ok.

ugh this feels stupid. Oh well.

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