matchbook

you sit on your box of matches
fingers itching to burn some bridges
too much commotion
in your soul
voices whispering that they never liked you
anyway
& you are bound to disappoint…
one bridge already burned…or on fire
at least
a friend boarding a train bound for disaster
& you are unable to endure
another
trainwreck.

i recently broke up with a friend…no, wait, not even. i ghosted her. the ol’ irish goodbye. i didn’t even know i was going to do it, but on retrospect, my feelings of not wanting to deal with it any longer had been building for awhile. my resentments had been building for awhile.
it is so hard to deal with other people’s drama sometimes.
and once i set that bridge on fire, i really wanted to keep setting fires…but i am sitting on my box of matches…trying to wait out my angst to see clearly.

burning bridges…i brought my matches!

klu klux kraken

life is too short
to tolerate feelings of hate
comments of hate
& oppression
overt or covert
directed at women, people of color,
homosexuals, transgendered people,
people with religious differences, immigrants,
or anyone else who is just trying to live their life
in peace.
seriously.
in idle conversation
in heated arguement
in snarky
clueless
comments on social media
i will not tolerate any of it

(i did the above comics in early 2016 when people were getting hurt at his rallies…i wish they could have been filed away and that i never had reason to share them again. i wish we had stopped this when it was just starting to crawl out from under its rock….)

i am quick to burn a bridge. i barely speak to my parents who are abusive, narcissistic, and destructive. i liberally use the “unfriend” option on facebook. i recently told my younger sister–my polar opposite–who voted for trump because he was “god’s choice” who is a total racist despite (??) adopting a black son who loves to tell everyone else how to live their lives who grew up poor but hates poor people who once told me, “don’t vote for so&so because he is for gay rights,” thereby bursting my bubble where i believed everyone has rights….
i stopped talking to her when she voted for trump and  have since let her know that i have no time for her hypocrisy–via a letter she sent me which i returned unopened because i knew already what i would find inside….

so it’s difficult & confusing for me to see the posts of friends on facebook who engage with their racist friends–nicely & with tolerance. and then i wonder–are they better than me? or is their friendliness flawed? at first i thought they must be better people than me. kind to those who are evil or whatever. then i thought, “no. if we treat these motherfuckers with kid gloves–they will never realize they are motherfuckers.”

this helped…i saw this on facebook today:

racism

so i am going to keep on burning my bridges.
life is too short.

 

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