When will it get better out there?
The panicked frenzy over T Swift presale codes versus the blood-soaked faces of bombed Gazan babies. The greed and panic over Top 40 entertainment amid the cacophony of war. The outrage about pro-Palestinian protestors crashing swanky parties versus the outrage over the rising costs of concert-going and the pestilent indifference to anything that doesn't impact or concern us. Change your profile picture for a day, or fire off some thoughts and prayers. Let's signal to our virtue and show the world we care.
How easy it is to slip seamlessly into not giving a shit while pretending like you do. TikTok dances to bring peace to Gaza. Gyrate for Gaza. Well, history demonstrates that I'm a great lay, but a horrible dancer. The best I can do is a discounted OnlyFans subscription. Take that, Israel.
Black Friday sales that show us things aren't really worth what you pay for them. Instead of questioning why we're getting ripped off on the price of goods for 11 months of the year, we scrounge like grateful vultures to stores with slashed prices and websites with BLACKFRIYAY23 discount codes.
There's nothing on my phone I want to see anymore. And what a luxury to be able to look away. Except when you can't.
The upcoming forced reunions with shitty bigoted uncles. I have so many uncles I don't talk to anymore, you know. Not the touchy one with the stale breath reeking of Olde Style pilsner who crept in your room at night and woke you up to tell you that you were his favourite niece. I saved myself so many times. But I might've blocked something out. What if I blocked something out? No, no, it's the other one who doesn't like your spitfire tongue, who'd prefer you to bite it til it turned metallic so he doesn't feel so small around you.
Most men want to muzzle you. Just because you know how to dig a knife in. Just because you're too smart, and sometimes it's best to pretend not to know what you know. Sometimes you still find yourself playing dead, or small, or dumb. And all for the sake of a man's fragile ego. Old habits. But not today, Unc.
The way that my daughter looks at boys versus the way that boys look at my daughter. Like she's claimable, like she's a fucking prize to be won. Listen, young skeeze, I read her messages because I pay the phone bill and I do this very unfun, labourious thing called parenting. You'll be walking home with your tater tots in a hand basket before you ever touch her. Things I think, but I can't say just yet.
The way I look at inosculated trees versus the way men look at me. Especially the ones with wives, or the ones who should never look my way in the first place. Like I can make their boredom better, or like I'm new to this planet. Check the fucking ring. And anyway, I’ve never liked city boys. I’ve only ever fallen in love with men from small towns, you know? Men that had softness and insight and not much rage. Men that anchored me in some way.
I say to the trees, "how do you look so good for your age?" And that's what the men say to me. I sometimes wish nobody would look at me so I wouldn't feel so guilty all the time. See all the problems you cause.
And it's so easy just to plaster a picture on this thing and spend a few evening minutes writing random shit I don't have the time to edit, and I'm fairly certain doesn't even make a difference anyway, but I'm still allowed to be melancholy about the state of things, ok? It doesn't matter whether they're big worldly struggles that are infinitely more important than my little meanderings, or just the trouble my face gets into, you know?
I used to talk to people about this stuff, but with the way things are out there, it's better to put my muzzle on and make happy. So I'll leave this here instead.
I guess there's not much to do about it. I feel a little powerless because I like the idea of helping create a better world. That's probably just some leftover idealism peeking through. I just know I don't want to lose the soft awareness that has always kept me attuned to the horrors of humanity. But lately I feel like I've become a little complacent. I used to stay up late dreaming of better tomorrows, you know? Now I go to bed early, but not before peeking in at my babies as they lay serenely and heavy-lidded on their pillows. And then I rest in gratitude knowing I have all this, right here, right now.
But still...
when will it get better out there?
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