I read some of my words today and notice that I spell Barack Obama’s name wrong and I wonder how that came about. He seems to be the front runner in the most important race in my personal lifetime right now. I realize that it is part of the disconnect I feel with him, I suppose it was my ego’s freudian slip of an insult to him that only my freudian ego knows about and sits in the corner giggling to self over.
Who am I, this fucking person who listens to an Obama speech and sinks into darkness and the more people who cheer the darker everything gets around me? I am an American soldier’s wife and the mother of his frequently fatherless children. I’m a caring human being who has witnessed and taken part in lies and deceit that killed thousands. I have felt very alone in all of this many many times and fearlessly allowed my mental melt downs to be witnessed by many……what the hell….I’m not going to live forever so all that won’t matter forever damn it!
Some Obama supporters say they are tired of fighting and I say that’s only because they are those of us who have a choice here. Some Democrats seeking unity seem to be completely blind to the fact some of America is in giant pain right now and doesn’t have a choice of whether or not to fight if they intend to continue to live. The abusers and the sociopaths that are in our midst and part of the what we WANT to be believe is OUR civil society……..I see them all too clearly and I don’t want to embrace them. Every voice in my being, my inner child if you want to call it that, screams out “NO!” when it comes to embracing the sociopaths and just letting the “bad stuff” slip away. A lot of that “bad stuff” has BEEN my life these past five years………so none of it really mattered and it was all just a bad dream or it was just bad unhappy ideas? Then how come people are missing arms and legs and minds and how come people are flat out missing around me? I hope this funk passes soon. I really have a hard time tolerating Obama speeches right now and I really have a hard time tolerating all that “Let’s Get Fired Up” chanting stuff. Remember, I used to be a cheerleader and I know how that shit works. A pep rally rocks too but during the football game I couldn’t help but notice that when things were getting really real the only person who came to care about all of my cheering was somebody’s ole Uncle Pervy in his front row seat………..just sayin.