Pretty sneaky, sis.

So far, I’ve survived 2016.  It’s likely to end soon.  Fact:  You don’t get to die from a broken heart.  I know, it’s depressing.  There’s something inside ourselves that forces us to continue living, no matter how much we hurt.  Reflection:  Living must be important.  It’s abstract, but I comprehend.  Of course, this changes everything.  I have to change, too.  This makes me furious.  But I’ll squeeze my fury into a singularity, and listen to that satisfying pop sound, rather than allow it to consume me.  I’ve already changed so much that I don’t recognize myself.  It’s scary.  I think this is what it would feel like to break up with gravity.

America is uglier than I believed possible.  When I look around, I see so much beauty and joy.  I surround myself with people who allow me to understand them, (love them).  I’ve trained myself to see beauty in unexpected places.  (I like to be one of the few who notice.)  I had no idea this would blind me to sneaky ugliness, although, I know better than to assume I would have detected it otherwise.  Even now, I’m looking away as much as possible.  I’m protecting myself, because they’re all glass houses.  I’m sad that people are bothering with blame, as if we’re not all in this together.  Patrick Henry knew what he was talking about.  The only people who have the power to make America great are Americans.  Most of the world is pulling for us to make it.  I say we show them what we’re made of.  Let’s make the dream a reality, just because we can.  Also, because it’ll be funny.  At least to Americans.

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