We Will Be Human: coming back from tour/post election thoughts

The first link I read of resistance:

MICHELLE CRUZ GONZALES: THIS IS MY FUCKING COUNTRY

“But this is my fucking country. I was born here too. I know rivers, granite rock, dragon flies, oak trees, rancherias, peninsulas, bridges, panoramic views, lakes in the Midwest, lightening bugs, bayous, marshland, and a city of Angeles.” –Michelle Cruz Gonzales

 

and then –

a letter from election night at the gates of hell, from a ptsd cockroach

“I have always lived in a country that wanted to destroy me and many of the people I love.”

 BUT – the shit is so real ——–

Day 1 in Trump’s America

“Donald Trump was elected president last night. The reaction to that news today has not been good. Especially for people of color and women, Day 1 was all about the increased likelihood that they will be subjected to hate speech, hate crimes, and the kind of stuff that points to really dark days ahead. For the sake of the documenting events that appear to be the result of the hatred Trump’s campaign has fomented, here’s what Day 1 in Trump’s America looked like.”

 

 

 

View story at Medium.com

Advertisements

Hello/Bonjour

It’s hard to negotiate your face. Did I just do something weird with my mouth? Walking out of the café in the morning sunlight cute man I look at him looking at me he says good morning I echo him back weakly. Like a fun house mirror, I am distorted. I always blink for photographs. I would have pushed like, if there were some button, on the man, in person, but there is no button for that. Good morning is polite, I often say to strangers, when making eye contact, when crossing in the street. But sometimes you look and don’t know if anyone can see you, sometimes saying hello is reaching across a gulf, the huge gulf, always present. Sometimes hello is just hello.

How would you know if anyone else liked you, wanted you, needed someone, the way you do? Would they say something to you?