it sounds like a silly question, right?
i know it doesn’t make any sense.
as though it’s wrong to be happy in a world where [whatever thing depresses you the most – colonialism, drone strikes of children, institutionalized racism, hunger, name your own!] is the norm.
and i am implicated in some sense because, as an american, my tax dollars fund wars even if i don’t want those wars.
the suicidal voice in my head always reminds me that one less consumer is one less drain of resources.
the me voice has to chime in and remind me that it is so stupidly brutally insanely important for people like us to exist. we all know this world needs our sensitivity.
but living in a world like this can be too much. too much to handle.
i have been told that when people take joy in something that doesn’t feed into the systems that want to destroy us, we are participating in a revolutionary act. sometimes i think, yes, sure, that feels nice, but i also think, tell that to people whose lives have been destroyed by these systems. tell them, don’t worry about starving; we are having a potluck to celebrate our lives so we don’t get depressed that you are starving to death and in this way, we are helping you. it is absurd. it is funny. and yet, we have to enjoy ourselves, or we will never be able to survive.
but we all know there is nothing we can do, in a global sense. whatever we do to make ourselves feel better about the shitty frustrating state of the world we live in – we all know it isn’t helping.
this is what frees me.
because there is no right answer – no best thing we can do to help every issue that makes us cry – no way to help everyone we love who is in pain – the only thing we can do is be really fucking good at being who we are. which is easy, because our people are naturally a crazy brilliant creative flowering beautiful tangle of dream shit. and sure, it sucks a lot because people do not help us remember how our people are the most important fucking people on earth because we are completely magickal – all of us crazies. look at the writers of symphonies, the tenders of gardens. the mad scientists, the artists who create things that nourish people and make it easier to be them. nutjobs are the ones who innovate and explore. we are poets. we are necessary.
but then again, isn’t it silly to think we can change the planet with our “trying to just sort of be nice to one another and pretend injustice isn’t alive” delusion, everyone’s nose is in their smart phone 24 hours a day, irreparable damage has occurred-
how depressed is too depressed about this frustrating world?
i don’t have an answer.
i found one today, from maya angelou:
if you’re not angry, you’re either a stone, or you’re too sick to be angry. you should be angry… but you must not be bitter. bitterness is like cancer. it eats upon the host. it doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure. so you said angry? yes. you write it. you paint it. you dance it. you march it. you vote it. you do everything about it. you talk it. never stop talking it.