Symptoms

There seem to be symptoms in everything these days. Symptoms of illness, symptoms of pain, symptoms of problems, symptoms vs causes, symptoms of a corrupt political establishment, symptoms of much bigger problems, symptoms of mental illness, symptoms of hypertension, symptoms of anemia, symptoms of fibroid pain, symptoms of fatigue, symptoms of depression, symptoms of demise…

the-tempest

I had made myself a promise to step back and redirect my focus towards what’s real and right in front of me, the relationships I need to build, the loved ones I care for, the child I mother, when I can, or am allowed!c5

Sometimes after I’ve been away for awhile I come back and I’m relieved. I’ll have missed the latest atrocity, or it’s a slow news day, or I manage to immerse myself in Amazon binge-watching of…whatever and stay distracted.

I want to say there’s a third of me who wants to retreat and hide. Who just wants to live her life, like we all do.When can we go back to that quiet existence where politics didn’t matter, and if it did, we could still just ignore it?

(…I’m not really asking those questions.)

I can’t ignore anything anymore. I can only escape for small spurts of time. It’s not that apathy has reasserted itself. In fact, apathy would be easier, almost welcome.

No, it’s the place where radicals like me land once we transcend that space of apathy and fall instead right down the heart of a checked, but brewing anger. It’s the right kind of anger, though, that fuels me into action. An anger that says, “we’re full up, here. There’s nothing left to take, there’s no more blood in these veins to drain, no essence left to strip from my existence.

And not just me, my fellow man, who feels the wall, too. The wall we’ve hit with blow after blow after blow after blow…after blow…after blow…where what we feel and hear inside says, “Nope. that’s as far as we can go.’

I’ve written about this place before and wondered when it would come. If it would come. When I myself would meet a place where one more step forward would kill my soul.

america-1151134_640

There’s just a place, beyond anger, beyond hopefulness, beyond despair. It’s a tired draggy, slow-walking shed of what’s no longer allowed.

These layers, this acquiescence,

“don’t rock the boat”, “just get along, now”

They are falling from my sleeves.

the sanders secret

They are not being picked back up. They’re staying there, dead, along with all my other upheavals, my other tentativeness, my doubts. There are no more doubts. Just truths too precious to squander, they’re so rare now to find.

The truth for me is, I’m not giving up, I’m not giving in, I’m not getting out of the way. I’m not moving on or being pointed in another direction. No.

  • My direction is clear, and the buck stops here. 
  • There will be no more railroading without resistance. 
  • We will not be bullied or sidelined or ignored. 
  • We will be heard. On our terms, set in our way, where and when and how we want.
  • The consequences of this be damned.
  • Some things are worth fighting for.

You don’t want to come to me? Walk my line of compromise? See who crosses first? Fine. Because it won’t be me. While you negotiate how close you’ll come or far you’ll step, I’ll be immovable, watching TV. Compromise?  What’s a compromise?

Well, it’s not the game you’re playing, so I’m done playing too. I’m taking my ball back but I’m not going home. I’m standing my ground and speaking my mind and no one has to listen but all of it must be said.

I was reminded today about compromise, which isn’t the daily word- that word is “symptom.” Well, compromise is a symptom of the fallacies of hypocrites. I hear their voices, but they aren’t allowed in. They’re only warning shots in the dark that danger is near. So is being sucked up into their sweet-talking syrupy assurances that everything will be alright, just trust me, and go back to sleep, now. When you awake it will all be better…

Huh, not falling for that one anymore, either.

The time for compromise is over. We’re at war. What I consider domestic terrorists have hijacked our government with their corporate lobbyist and dirty campaign money, their lying propagandized media reframing and their legalized bribery and corruption is Done. I’m Done.

Done. Done. Done.

I’m here. You’re there. And when we meet it will be on MY battleground, when I say, and there will be nothing you can do to change my mind or silence my voice, other than kill me…

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I won’t be waiting for that, but I’ll willingly put my life on the line for a righteous and noble fight.

Saving democracy sure ought to be one.

Tishacp

SymptomSymptom

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

34justice

Three Guys' Analytical Glance into the Political and Cultural Conundrum

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

Dream Desire Achieve

The dreams you desire can be achieved, for with God nothing is impossible.

challengescounter

Creating personal awareness to mitigate suffering.

gendermom

A chronicle of fun and fear, or, daily life with my young trans daughter

Inner Whispers

Messages from Within

mylocalweb

my writing junkyard

Stephen Hung Photography

The World through My Lens

34justice

Three Guys' Analytical Glance into the Political and Cultural Conundrum

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

Dream Desire Achieve

The dreams you desire can be achieved, for with God nothing is impossible.

challengescounter

Creating personal awareness to mitigate suffering.

gendermom

A chronicle of fun and fear, or, daily life with my young trans daughter

Inner Whispers

Messages from Within

mylocalweb

my writing junkyard

Stephen Hung Photography

The World through My Lens

s [r] blog

The Online Literary Magazine at Arizona State University

Miranda Wilson

Cellist and Writer

Madame Gandhi | BLOG

I am a drummer whose mission is to elevate and celebrate the female voice.

The Rural Resistance

Politics in Rural America

These Are My Scars

An Education in Living with Lung Cancer

VIDA: Women in Literary Arts

Freelance Writer ~ The Write Hat

Awesome Sports Project

Inspiring girls' and women's voices in sports

Mark Armstrong

Automattic, WordPress.com; Founder, Longreads

Creative by Nature

Glimpses of a Creative Universe, by Christopher Chase...

Armory of the Revolution

The most radical Animal Rights blog on Earth! Universal rights, ecosocialism, and political grenades by Roland Vincent.

JoAnn Chateau

Writer & Progressive

theindependentthinker2016

Independent Thought for an Independent World

The Electric Agora

A modern symposium for the digital age

Amusing Nonsense

Writings on Everything and Nothing

Views of a Political Kid

An 8 year old with a lot of opinions

Daisy in the Willows

The WOW and Woe moments of an irrepressible woman

A WINDOW INTO THE WOODS

(INTO THE WOODS AND BEYOND!)

Drew Martin Writes

I write. I create. It's that simple, yet so much more complex. Poetry, fiction, non-fiction, reviews.

James Harrington's Blog of Geek and Writing

All Things Writing and Geek, in one neat little blog!

Random thoughts

Random musings about everything.

A Paradoxical Millennial

Somewhat-alternative thoughts on Society and Culture

GODS & RADICALS

A Site of Beautiful Resistance

The Chatter Blog

Living: All Day Every Day: Then Chattering About It

Open Your Eyes; Free Your Mind

"Don't worry, don't be afraid -- ever -- because this is just a ride." - Bill Hicks

Whatever

I'M STARING AT THE ASPHALT WONDERING WHAT'S BURIED UNDERNEATH

writerchristophfischer

Books, Reviews and bookish thoughts

O at the Edges

Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.

Mitch Teemley

The Power of Story

A Good Life, or Something Like It

you can have it all, but maybe not all at once

The Red Window

Adding my voice to Australian Politics

Abolition

a journal of insurgent politics

%d bloggers like this: