a musing on hopelessness.


i gotta say, shit’s been gettin’ me down lately.

shit like this.

and then another big ‘fuck you’ to us with this whole thing.

plus this:

to say i’ve been disheartened would be a fucking goddamn understatement.  it just doesn’t feel like america anymore.  or at least the america i grew up believing in.  i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about all of this.  probably too much time, to be honest with you.  to the point where i can feel the pressure on my shoulders.  the weight of it all.

it’s been hard for me to have hope about things.  to have hope that things will get better.

but when i step out of my door, walking my dogs through the hood*, it’s been the smiles and good mornings from strangers and hoboes that gives me hope these days.  that connection one has with the person she sees walking every day, the quasi-stranger.  i have serious doubts that things will get better, let alone change.  but it is these encounters i have in which i see the country i love.

and thinking now about grad school, the hopelessness of the present, these connections i love, i want to learn how to tell the stories of others, of those who have no voice.  reveal what should be revealed.  cuz just cuz things are fucked, doesn’t mean i have to shut up about it or acquiesce.

yeah, so i’ll tell you.  thinking maybe journalism.  which i know is insane, all right?  but in spite of the fact that our civil liberties are being delightfully tromped on at present, we are lucky to live in an age where everything has the potential to be democratized.  and perhaps this view is dreamery of me and ignores the reality of things.  but no one ever said, made, or did something new paying attention to reality.  i’ll make up my own goddamn profession.  nerd outlaw.

i just want to live life as part of the solution even though there seems to be little hope of solving the problem.

*southside,  berkeley, yo.


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