I keep a notebook that I use for writing ideas, notes, journalling, that kind of thing. It’s a black and white college rule essay book, i can get a pack of 5 for like $3. when one fills up I start a new one and to make it feel personal i tape a photo or a piece of art to the front. It’s a very practical, beautiful solution i learned from the good and great Brent Forrester (google him) in an online writers class during the pandemic.
Dear Diary,
As you can see, I haven’t written anything for the past two days. That is because I have been preocupied watching and worrying about a treasonous coup attempt that resulted in thousands of FOX news deluded republicans shouting and chanting outside the capital building which as it turns out was a cleverly devised distraction enabling the more “elite” Q-Anon dipshits to break into the building and mostly fail to kidnap or kill anyone even though some of them clearly had police grade zip ties, guns and IEDs and were certainly planning to fuck some shit up. Well, I say they failed to kill anyone. At least one person got herself killed and although I know nothing about her yet, in my head she was a regular person who maybe for the past four or five years has been steadily lied to by her community, her church, probably her parents and definitely by some version of Rupert Murdoch fueled batshit media conglomerates. Side note; Listen, if Rupert Murdoch walked into he coffee shop where you were waiting tables and said, hey kid, what I want you to do is come join this cult and overthrow the government, you would rightly spot him as a a creepy old guy who is probably a murderer and would definitely not get in a car with him. You probably shouldn’t get in a news cycle with him either. But that is the subject for another essay. I imagine this girl, again I know nothing about her, was probably young and stupid like we all are at one time or another and was also tragically unaware that the white privilege that had cloaked her experiences in a kind of “luck” she was unaware of did not make her bullet proof. It may have felt like it but this time at least it would not protect her from the consequences that swarm like bees around idiots who storm government buildings in defiance of police orders, laws and the norms of society. I am sure that someone is weeping over her loss today as are the families of the three other people who died of strokes and heart attacks during the siege and one cop who as far as we know at this point is dead from injuries sustained while doing his job without the backup everyone assumed would be there if, say, a gang of terrorists were to try to storm into the capitol building full of lawmakers and civil servants including not one but two vice presidents.
Oh shit, I want’s going to write about all that. But now I can’t remember what it was I actually wanted to write in you, dear diary so I will have to leave this here and maybe tomorrow I will have something more uplifting or creative.
Bye now,
Kris
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