Welcome to my…
“…When we can no longer think, reason or manage our way out of the crisis we find ourselves in – then what we are left with is instinct…”
The wide expanse of Wednesday has long been my precious writing day.
Enter the 2016 election cycle.
I weep now as much as I write, now more than ever, except for once, when I was home alone, in the eighth grade, on a Sunday afternoon, and the television played Born Free.
But that was a flood of grief at once, and this has been leaking for weeks, even before 11/9, ever since the tape–the one that reminded me what it is to be a woman in the United States.
I am heartbroken.
It may be that the President Elect reminds me too much of my paternal figure. (Charismatic. Entitled.) It may be that he reminds me of all the…
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