I've been going through a curious time, to say the least, since I left off writing daily in this blog. It's a habit that has been good for my writing, if only as an exercise. I find myself scrawling handwritten work, unable to focus.
I wake every day and obsessively check the news. I feel on edge every day. Tonight I thought of children: the ones related to me, the ones in Thistle's school, in the wider world. What is to become of them, of the world we live in? Everything has changed in less than two weeks.
As a writer, I feel it incumbent to write here every day, to witness the world. When I wake, I feel that there is only one day, the day I have awakened to, and I feel centered in that day. However terrible life feels, I am still here.
The supporters of 45, as he's been nicknamed, have probably not yet felt the full impact of what this man and his frightening administration will do. I pray that he will be removed office. Pence is a misguided pseudo-Christian, but I seriously believe he would toe the line fairly assiduously should 45 leave office in disgrace. Pence will be tarnished with the same brush no matter what he does. I would assume he will not want the same fate as 45--if indeed he doesn't end up sharing it. It will be incumbent on him to be a good boy.
In the meantime, the fool wields his pen. And we, the voices of sanity, begin to fill the streets. I have no doubt of this: many voices, many hands, many hearts, can change the rising tide of evil.
