I haven’t been writing. I’ve actively avoided it.
Because
Writing, focusing, fretting about little things in my life when all of this horrible shit is happening seems to me to be a waste
Of TIME
I tell myself, “write. write. write.”
Why?
“It keeps you sane.”
But it isn’t important when so much hate has been released from so many.
“The hate was always there.”
Was it? All of these people were faking all this time? They were kept under control and now that we have a leader that condones bad behavior, they’ve let loose their feelings? I don’t believe it. It can’t be true. People are better than that. I can’t write about personal struggles when there are people being persecuted because of their beliefs.
“That’s been happening since the dawn of time. Never stopped you before.”
It’s stopping me now.
“Is it?”
I feel paralyzed. Helpless. Terrified. What can I do?
“Don’t be distracted. Make the choices you’ve always made. Continue to send out love and connection and compassion. Be who you are. And write.”
It’s selfish.
“Is it?”
Effie Graves 