I think it’s B.O.!

Open Letter to the tiki torch carriers in North Carolina:

I woke up this morning and (eventually) checked my Twitter feed.  Oh.  A demonstration in North Carolina by angry, privileged, and misled individuals carrying tiki torches.  You’re upset because despite having an entire nation specifically designed to give you a better shot at everything in life, you’re still not thriving.  It’s not enough you’ve never experienced life surrounded by hateful people who despise you for existing.  You don’t even know what it’s like to face life without every possible advantage at your disposal.  You can’t imagine it.  It’s much easier to ignore these facts, and pretend to be the victim, instead, eh?

It’s also simpler to waste your life than live it to it’s fullest.  Privilege is an advantage, but it doesn’t live your life for you.  It doesn’t guarantee you will be on top of everyone else.  It doesn’t automatically make you awesome.  You still have to get off your lazy ass and build your life with effort, which is what truthfully has you so upset.  It’s unfortunate you didn’t focus on making yourself into someone you can love, and instead chose to concentrate on hating everyone else.  Every single one who carried their tiki torch around the church, while spewing racial slurs and saluting a dead, meth addicted loser, has publicly announced you are a miserable piece of shit.

That was precisely the message you delivered.  Nobody saw you, and thought, “Hey!  This person has factual information to share with the world!”  We looked at you and were disgusted.  What a pathetic tiki tantrum by spoiled brats who haven’t figured out how to adult yet.  We don’t pity your invented woes.  We know your cause is bullshit.  We are aware you’re merely proving yourself one of the poor fools who fell for (weak) propaganda because it was easy and didn’t take any effort.  You just want to be a terrorist without consequence, and this group will take anyone with white skin.  Finally, you get to fit in without effort or policing your poorly formed personality.  How sad.

Barrack Obama was President of the United States of America for eight years.  He has brown skin.  Obama overcame every single obstacle that stood in his way.  Not one of you tiki torch carrying fuckwads has even faced a single one of the barriers he conquered.  Instead, you’re bent on creating more barriers to ensure such an incredible achievement never happens again.  Even with all the privilege and advantages, in this beautiful country where you automatically have a far better shot at life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,  merely for existing, you’re still losers.  That’s so fucking pathetic it’s hard to believe it’s even possible.  Holy shit.

The worst part is the why.  Why are you so miserable and pathetic?  The answer is simple.  You chose this.  You looked at all the opportunities America has to offer you, and said, “Nah, that all sounds like hard work.  Instead, I’m just going to make it harder for everyone else, and then pout over not being treated as if I’m valued, when all I have to offer is hate and destruction.”  On second thought, I do pity you.  If I see you on the street with your bug repelling torch, I’ll hug you.  I can’t imagine how awful it feels to be you.  Besides, you’re alive, which entitles you to my consideration.  You don’t even need skin for me to consider you and your feelings.  But if you strike me, my return will end you, so don’t.  Take the hug or don’t.  It’s yours to accept or reject.

Instead of choosing to be hateful, you can always change your mind and embrace all of America in her glory.  Together, we’re amazing.  I’d rather you were part of our greatness because I  suspect you have something inside you that makes you one of a kind.  Not part of some angry group looking foolish.  Just you, alone, without all the fake baggage.  Oh, there you are!  I can see you better when you’re not pretending to be a psychopath.  I don’t even believe you hate other Americans.  I think you’re angry and frustrated.  You’ve accepted a lot of bullshit as true and decided to go with it because you know you can get away with it, (now.)

I’m hoping you figure out this path leads to a dark empty place.  Many have traveled it, but none of them are still around to share.  You’ve chosen the team that will lose every single time, regardless of how much money and KGB bots feeding the effort.  In the end, love and life always win.  They’re the point, silly.  So think again about who you want to anchor yourself to, and why.  Do you want to spend the rest of your life angry and miserable?  Many have chosen to do this.  We have diseases named after them.  I hope you decide you want far more.  I hope you opt to be honest.  The hate is your thing.  I don’t hate you.  If I did, I wouldn’t bother writing this.

I love you for being alive.  I’m angry you’ve chosen misery because I know it’s a choice.  Nobody is forcing you to go down this road.  You’re truly only hurting yourself.  Don’t do that.  Life is hard enough without sabotaging it.  You know what’s right and wrong.  You’re free to choose.  Just remember, every choice has consequences.  You’re probably going to get away with terrorizing North Carolinians last night because of your white privilege.  Nobody is shocked by this because we live in a nation that doesn’t treat everyone equally.  We hate it.  We fight it.  We do whatever we can do legally to try and even the playing field.  We don’t show up and terrorize you, though.  We treat you better than you deserve, and you make us beg just to exist.

I hope you think about what kind of future you want for yourself, and make better choices.  Your white skin isn’t necessarily going to protect you forever, so please work on building yourself into a decent individual.  Nobody can do it but you.

Sincerely,

Alison

They’re gonna name their baby Seven.

I’m so overwhelmed.  Yeah, I saw this coming, too.  Sleep deprivation is expensive.  Typically, I feel like I’m a few seconds behind the world.  I’m used to The Pause.  Presently, my mind is racing.  I have too many things I want to process at the same time.  I’m demanding my brain keep up, but it’s like trying to make the rain stop by shouting at it.  Nevertheless, I’m still shouting.  I know it’s futile, but any action seems better than stillness.

I’m struggling to understand Americans who hate me so much, they’d rather destroy America than tolerate my existence.  It’s not going well.  I have a glitch I was apparently born with.  It scares me, sometimes.  I’ve never in my life managed to hold a grudge for more than a few days.  When I hate someone, it takes over my mind and becomes all I can think about.  I can’t read, listen to music, watch TV, or socialize, and hate someone at the same time.  Hating is essentially cutting myself off from all else.  It’s exhausting, and my hate-stamina is pathetic.  I always end up rejecting it, and as I’ve matured (shut-up 😂), I often skip the process and let it go straight away.

My sister, Heather, seemed the opposite in this respect.  I remember marveling at her ability to remain furious at someone, seemingly permanently.  I assume it’s a survival mechanism to some degree, but mine’s broken.  It makes me feel vulnerable.  It used to make me question my intelligence, but I decided it’s irrelevant.  I know a lot of people are feeling the tremor in The Force resulting from Americans hating Americans.  I suspect many of my fellow neurodiverse people are struggling right now.  One of the lovely perks of membership is often a high sensitivity to strong emotions of others.  A tremor in The Force is nearly literal, (depending on your level of Star Wars/life integration.)

I’m focusing my energy on removing my contribution to the tremor.  You’re welcome.  I’m having a Healing Day to get back in sync.  I went for a long run early this morning.  I listened to Chiquitita by ABBA, Whenever I Call You Friend by Kenny Loggins ft. Stevie Nicks, and Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks on repeat.  I mostly love repetition, but when people ask me the same question more than once, I get stuck.  (I wish more people would get behind my idea of a universal visual signal and/or sound whenever sarcasm is used.) Remember the cartoons with crappy resolution and expressive soundtracks?  The music was an essential part of comprehending the humor.  At least for me.

Oops, there I go again, wishing.  I just rolled my eyes at myself.  Part of me believes others should be considerate enough to let me in on the joke.  The eye-rolling part thinks it’s ridiculous to even desire the world where others put forth some effort to enable me (and many others) to participate.  Guess which part of me I like better?  I just cracked myself up.  Also, if you haven’t spent some time experiencing Stevie Nicks, stop being mean to yourself and get to it soon.  I’m off to play the violin to some cows while the humidity is tolerable.

LOS ANGELES, CA – JANUARY 31: Singer Stevie Nicks performs at the concert to celebrate the premiere of “Sound City” at the Hollywood Palladium on January 31, 2013, in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Kevin Winter/Getty Images)

She’s going to ask how you got her number.

I made it through today’s challenges.  The hashtag game that started my day at 6 AM was lots of fun.  The tag was lovely (about hugs), and lots were funny and touching.  After that, the guy I hired to haul off my junk arrived with his two young sons.  He wasn’t able to maneuver his truck into my underground parking space, so one boy stood guard in case a neighbor needed him to move it while we headed upstairs.  It took less than an hour, and they didn’t damage any walls in the process.  It was mostly Ikea furniture I’ve outgrown, and my sofa.  The sofa barely fit out the door and took a lot of effort to get into the elevator.  When we stood it on its end, it brushed the ceiling in the elevator.

I could tell I was their first customer as they were still working out the logistics.  Typically, when I encounter someone starting a new business, I offer to build them an app or website.  I forgot this time, but I’ll be hiring him again shortly.  I have a Jenga-like tower of boxes from TV’s, speakers, monitors, etc. in part of my parking space.  I saved them for when I move, but in the meantime, they’ve washed the floors, and that ruined several.  They’re now an unbelievably dusty nuisance I’d rather not touch.  I’d rather pay to have them come back and have a filthy box smashing party on my behalf.  I saw lots of spider webs seemingly holding my Jenga tower together.  Ew.  No.

Unfortunately, I stressed so much about meeting a stranger, and letting him into my home; I didn’t sleep last night.  I lay still in bed while listening to 21 Pilots on repeat.  I felt fine throughout the hashtag game, but halfway through helping load the truck, I hit a wall of nausea.  I soldiered through until we finished, then drank some water.  It helped a bit, but the 2-hour nap helped more.  I’m confident I’ll sleep tonight.  I feel good knowing I managed, and it’s over.

I did most of my chores but still have windows, and dishes left.  I’ll do those tomorrow.  Tonight, I’m going to binge watch Pamela Adlon’s new show, Better Things on FX app.  I’ve seen the pilot, so I already know I’ll love the show.  FX’s app either shows lots of commercials, or it seems like more than what I’d see if I watched it in real time.  It’s annoying, but it’s Pamela Adlon, so I’ll deal.  I loved her in Lucky Louis, Louis, King of the Hill, (and much more voice-overs in anime and video games).  I love that she’s little on the outside, big on the inside.  I love that she’s effortlessly sexy and funny at the same time.  There are so few who can pull that off.  Mariska Hargitay is another that comes to mind.  I love the androgyny a few beautiful people have brought into the spotlight.  They’re making perceptions of beauty broader, which is awesome.

I had a weird moment where my body was reacting to emotions I didn’t consciously feel.  I have these episodes often, and rarely give them my attention.  Usually, I cry in my sleep from a disturbing dream, then awaken with post-crying hiccups and no feelings to explain them, which is standard with PTSD.  Today, I had a similar moment while awake.  It was just creepy enough to guarantee I won’t stay up all night again soon.

While I lay there listening to music, I wrestled with the Orson Scott Card issue again.  I forgive him for being imperfect in such a hateful and harmful manner because I reject hate.  However, the boycott continues.  I can’t stomach reading anything he writes ever again because I imagined myself as a gay teenager growing up in South Dakota, reading Ender’s Game, then finding out Orson Scott Card is an outspoken hater with no regard for how much pain and loss it causes.

I don’t like to rant about religion because it’s disrespectful to those who believe differently than I.  I firmly believe hate is wrong.  I question the judgment of anyone who justifies hatred, especially if religion is the justification.  I’ve mentioned before I’m offended by religion in general, and this explains why.  I realize not all who hold tight to faith embrace hatred.  Yay.  Those who do confuse me at best.  I’m at war with hate, and I’m a soldier.  Brandon Sanderson is a far superior writer, and he doesn’t spread hate.  So there’s that.  I’m off to continue reading his latest; Arcanum Unbounded:  The Cosmere Collection.

Denver bound

I’m off to Denver today. Yay!! I’m excited to go this time.  My anxiety is a little high, but not more than I can handle.  I didn’t sleep well again.  More Trump nightmares.  Sigh.  It’s just so hard to reconcile the fact that it’s 2016, and so many are still ignorant and full of hatred.  I’m trying not to think about the fact that the 2 leading candidates are racists.  I’m not feeling terribly proud to be an American.  For the next few days, I’m going to have fun, and try to forget about the ugliness.  At least I’ll get some sleep.  Hopefully nightmare free.

Did you just double dip that chip?

The thing that bothers me the most about politics is the way people attack others for their choice of candidate to support.  It gets so ugly and hateful.  I can’t wrap my head around hating someone solely for favoring a candidate that I find unappealing.  They have their reasons for choosing whomever they pick, and aren’t obligated to share them with me.  Their differing opinion is not  sufficient to merit being attacked.  I don’t expect anyone to have experienced my life, and the things that shape my thoughts.  I’m aware that life is a different journey for everyone.  We’re all influenced by our experiences, and the people we’ve encountered.  We all have things we value more than others.

If we all agreed on everything, we would have no reason to communicate.  It would mean we were all living the same lives.  That would be tragic in my view.  Like a grey rainbow.  Diversity among human beings is what makes us interesting.  It’s what makes us individuals.  I choose to embrace it, and enjoy learning of the experiences of others.  They interest me, help me grow, and help shape my world.  I spend a great deal of time reading speculative fiction novels.  It brings me joy to experience a world created in the mind of it’s author.  It provides color to my rainbows.  It frees me from being aware only of my personal experiences.  It’s like water, earth, and sunshine to a seed.

So when I see someone belittling another because they think differently, and choose based on their own experiences, it sickens me.  It’s vulgar.  If you think your thoughts and opinions are so great that they give you license to abuse those who differ, you’re a bully.  It’s never okay to abuse someone who has caused you no harm.  Harboring hatred has consequences.  It’s so much easier to live and let live.  Agree or disagree, but do no harm.  Accept that we’re all sentient beings with varying thoughts and experiences, and refrain from attacking others.  It doesn’t cause anyone to change who they are in order to appease such unreasonableness.  It only magnifies your own insecurities.

Tired puppy.

I think I’ve recovered from my Denver vacation.  Well, almost.  Once I am able to sleep again, I’ll be there.  Anytime I break my schedule, it takes a toll on me.  I think I’m recovering faster, though.  Today has been surreal.  There’s a guy who lives down the hall from me.  He’s autistic, and lives with his Mom.  He’s always been kind to me when we’ve shared an elevator, or passed in the hall.  He invited me to come to his place once, but I declined.  He knocked on my door today after I came back from getting my mail.  I walk past his door, so he probably saw me.  I answered, and he asked if I wanted to visit again.  I said no.  Then I told him that I think he’s a nice person, but I wasn’t interested in going inside his apartment.  He didn’t respond for a bit, then asked if I wanted to go to the community room.

I thought about it, and said no.  Then I asked if he wanted to go to the theater room and watch a movie instead.  He said yes, and then ran down the hall to tell his Mom.  I grabbed my new Harry Potter collection, then put it back, and picked Howl’s Moving Castle instead.  I don’t want anyone to watch Harry Potter with me, because even if they say they won’t talk, they do.  He came back a few minutes later, and we went to the theater room to watch.  It was around 33 F, which is like a heat wave compared to the last 4 days.  He talked several times during the movie.  I didn’t mind because I’ve seen it several times.  Afterward, we walked back to our building, and I said goodbye, and started to walk to my door.  I got about 10 feet, then I heard him running to catch up.  He said he wanted to walk me to my door.  I think his Mom told him to do this.  When we got to my door, I unlocked it and opened it, and my cat was at the door like usual.  She ran away as soon as she realized I wasn’t alone.  I said bye and closed the door and locked it.  Then I thought about how it must have been obvious to his Mom that I’m autistic too.  I supposed parents of autistics can tell.  She’s always kind with me as well.

I have my annual shrink appointment next Friday. While I see it as only necessary to continue getting my Prozac, I have to admit, my shrink is a good one.  He has private practice, plus his VA position.  He’s open about being a Christian, even though it’s technically frowned upon for the VA staff to question me about my beliefs.  He asks me about my spiritual health, along with my mental and physical health each time we meet.  I talked to him about it a few times.  The first time, I told him I was an atheist.  I thought it was true at that time, plus I expected my response to end the topic.  The next time, I told him about encountering atheists online, and how I didn’t understand why so many were proud of being atheist, and thought their declaration meant they had superior intelligence to those who believed in God.

I went on to relate how I’d seen people who enjoyed baiting those who were proud of their religion by asking them to prove their God exists, and implying that anyone who believed was a fool.  I thought it was bizarre, and told him it reminded me of racism.  He asked me if I still thought I was an atheist.  I said no, that I was agnostic.  He asked me what that meant to me.  I remember feeling glad that he was basically saying I get to decide the definition.  I told him that I wasn’t sure yet, and that reading the bible is what led to my agnosticism in the first place.  I said I think agnosticism could be temporary.  It could be that I haven’t read or heard or experienced the something that will lead me to belief yet.  I added that I listen, and pay attention to people who show me their faith through their behaviors, choices, and lives.  I added that he’s one of the people I pay attention to in that respect.  My sister is another.  There are a few online, too.  It was a good appointment, and I left feeling understood.

I think a person’s beliefs are incredibly personal.  I don’t like extremists because they too often believe their faith is more important than the lives of other people.  I don’t like it when people use religion, or the lack thereof, to justify offending others.  I don’t think hurting people on purpose is funny, or cool, or indicative of superior intellect.  I think it’s being insecure loudly.  Most who believe are not extremists.  Most of the people I’ve encountered so far, whom I’ve known to be religious, were striving to be better people.  I think that’s awesome.  It’s not restricted to religion, of course.  I just can’t stomach hating on someone for being different than me, but harming no one.

Letting Go

I’ve spent some time grieving over the recent violence in America.  The fact that I need to qualify that statement is disgusting.  The recent mass shootings in Colorado Springs, and San Bernardino.  Both were committed by people who felt justified in their actions.  Anything further is speculation.  I grieve for the fact that justification for mass murder is considered an option.  I don’t believe anyone has the right to kill people for any reason.  I understand that there are laws that sanction it.  I think they are wrong.

To steal existence from another is the ultimate arrogance.  To rob their loved ones of their existence, and to dismiss their future and potential is anathema to me.  I deliberately avoided news coverage of these events out of self preservation.  Some facts leaked through, regardless.  I saw an image of a black SUV riddled with high powered rifle impacts.  It was an image of massacre.  The murderers died by the same means as they inflicted on others.  Violence begets violence.  Live by the sword, die by the sword, blah blah blah.  It’s all bullshit.

You can’t punish a crime by committing the same crime.  This is illogical.  Taking a life in human history has most often resulted in a life being taken in retaliation.  We equate our grief with a right to seek revenge.  An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.  I was born into a blind world.  I was born into a world ruled by hatred and fear.  These are what motivate humanity as a whole.  These are literally chemical reactions within human brains.  Yet they are allowed to end the existence of millions of people.  Love, joy, and acceptance are also emotions, yet we reject these in the face of hatred and fear.  We walking chemical reactions are ruled by perceptions based solely on our emotions.

It seems like insufficient motivation to rule the human race.  Logic takes a back seat to emotion, when instead, it could be utilized as a guiding force to prevent such madness.  I’m an outsider.  My mind functions differently.  At times, the chemical reactions in my brain are random, and unrelated to my emotions or environment.  They rob me of control of my emotions, but don’t force action.  I sit back and observe, having had much experience with this phenomenon.  These experiences have allowed me to separate myself from my body.  From the community.  From the environment.  From the human race.

When I allow myself to interact with other humans, the eventual result is profound sadness. Something within me keeps experimenting, seeing if a tweak here or there will bring about new results.  I’m attracted to the goodness in others.  I can see it beneath the fear in most people with which I’ve interacted.  It’s motivations are love, joy, and acceptance.  This is goodness.  But the mask of fear usually surfaces, and eventually wears down my endurance, leading to deep sorrow.  I’m older now, and would like to be wiser.  I would like to limit my actions to logic.  I would like to step back permanently.  I know it’s within my ability.  I know that the longer I remain apart, the more difficult it becomes to communicate with others.  But if my goal is to remain separate, this becomes a desirable result.

Allowing my emotions to dictate my perceptions is a trap.  A trap that entangles me in the actions of others.  It traps me in an ocean of blindness.  I end up drowning rather than thriving.  And like anyone who is drowning, at one point, the will to survive becomes resolve in embracing the inevitable.  It’s time to let go.  If I am to continue, I have to do so on my terms.  I have to allow logic to be my guide, and I must avoid the trap.  The sadness I feel now will pass.  I will hold tight to goodness, and turn my back on fear.  I will dissociate myself from all who allow it to motivate their actions.  I will turn my energy to creating.  I will thrive in the joy of solitude.

Tolerance Begets Acceptance

It’s hot again.  I’m ready for winter.  I was loving the low 60’s during the day and 30’s at night.  I leave my bedroom window open and snuggle under a super soft blanket.  It’s so soft that my cat refuses to budge when she settles in.  I call her “Middle-of-the-Bed-Fred” when she does this.  It’s frustrating for about half a second, then it’s hilarious.  Sometimes I have to get completely out of bed, then lay down again in the portion of bed she leaves me.  As soon as I lay back down, she suddenly awakens from her coma, and crawls up against me again.  I usually end up with a narrow strip of space against the wall.  This is why I have a padded sideboard against the wall.  I end up being comfortably squished between that and my Little Precious.

I’m saddened by a trending topic on Twitter today.  I suspect it began as a tasteless joke, and ran amok from there.  I saw a tweet by a woman who called for a boycott of the upcoming Star Wars film, because it was contributing to white genocide in South Africa. Nothing in her tweet suggested she was anything but serious.  I don’t know what to think. I read more, and most were tweets using the same hashtag to demonstrate their disgust of the hashtag and boycott.  So now, a hashtag that would normally have never made it to trending status is suddenly the second most trending hashtag.

I understand the anger and hurt that drive people to keep doing this.  I’ve decided to ignore it.  I can’t in good conscience ask them to stop, because expressing their displeasure is a reasonable response.  It really hurts when someone rejects you for something you have no control over.  I’ve seen racism from black people and white people and everyone in between.  It’s always ugly, and it always hurts.  As a child, I was unable to cope with racism.  It led me to attempt suicide when I was only 12-years-old. As an adult, I have learned to cope with it.

I’ve learned how to look beyond the hate.  Hate is masked fear.  Fear is centered on ignorance.  Ignorance is something we all can work to overcome.  All it takes is a willingness to recognize it’s something we all have the ability to change.  When someone hates me verbally for the color of my skin, I don’t hate back.  I silently remind myself that this person hasn’t yet overcome his or her fear, and that they hold the potential to do so.  I will admit that I also hear the fear mantra from Dune simultaneously in my mind.

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”