Wow. Another month in the history books. Watching the Republican regime crumble isn't nearly as much fun as I'd hoped it would be. It just makes me sad to know that most politicians are as crooked and as greedy as you can imagine them to be, regardless of their party affiliation. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and this presidency has been a case study. I'm not anti-American, but I'm against this war. I'm not anti-military; in fact, I think our military is shamefully treated as far as pay and support goes. I'm not even anti-Republican, but I think that their aims and goals are about as diametrically opposed to mine as you could get. I'm just waiting - waiting for the bubble to burst, for the recession to start, so that we can hurry up and start digging our way back out.
Here I stand again, speaking to an empty room. My thoughts aren't worth the cyberspace they would take up if I cared to tweet or post to Facebook, but here I stand anyway. I had no idea how long it had been since my muse had forced me to write. I used to write almost daily, poetry mostly, when I was younger and believed that someone cared what I had to say. I wanted to be e.e. cummings or T.S. Eliot or anyone who seemed to be so comfortable in his own skin to pour out his emotions onto a blank page. It took me a few years to realize that the writers who filled my pantheon of literary deities were not that comfortable after all, but wrote because not writing was more painful than the spilling of emotion. So I think I will take up my keyboard once more, wade out into the battle, and write.
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