Too many lately. Death after death, tragedy after tragedy.
The pandemic brought everything to a grinding halt; coming out of it has felt like being thrown into a meat grinder.
I thought I was down during The Mungk; daily meditations on trauma and fatalism being a big part of that. Thinking about kindness has only caused me to realize how small a part of the world it’s become.
I blame Trump, Putin and all the other right wing motherfuckers; propagating constant lies amidst a firehose of misinformation, killing rational thought and reasonable behaviour in a fiery torment of unreal anger and radicalization.
I think I’m going to have to start looking harder. Either that or go it alone. Hell, it worked for Jesus, didn’t it?
Wait. Did it?
Okay, Ghandi maybe. Wait. Him too?
Martin Luther King? John Lennon?
Jesus, being kind is a violent racket.
Target: 1500 words
Written: 2642 words, novel: Father Lightning