Friday, April 10, 2020

Light Lessons

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.


My words are: gut-wrenching ~ greenhouse gas emissions ~ blue zone ~ womb ~ associated ~ spirit

It was submitted by:


I'm writing this journal from the womb that has become my home, a little underground bunker I worked a second job to be able to afford as soon as Donald Trump won his 4th term and nominated his sons to lead the country in case of his death and thereafter. I knew then that there was no hope left.

Probably should have realized that the first time with the mishandling of literally everything but especially the coronavirus and the looming reality of climate change. But I couldn't quite give up back then. I really thought any day people would wake up to how bad things had already gotten and would continue to get, but that time never came even as we died in astounding numbers from constant inaction and lack of adequate healthcare in various pandemics. Trump's flagrant misuse and outright theft of government funds in his later terms didn't help either.

It's gut-wrenching to think we could have stopped this. We could have put more research into the growing threat of novel viruses and super bacteria. We could have cut greenhouse gas emissions. We could have put stricter regulations on our military, our corporations, participated in the Paris agreement. We could have done anything, literally anything, but we chose profit over life, so now here we are at the end of ours. Collectively.

The end of humanity at least this go around...

Capitalism killed as so many of us said it would, and I hope if life happens again, those beings learn from our mistakes.

I live in what the United Nations named a blue zone in 2030. The various color schemes were meant to indicate how dangerous a zone would be for humans living above ground and without major protections. Red zones were coastal areas that essentially sunk into the oceans. Then orange, yellow, blue, and green.

I wouldn't even have to move to be safe in a bunker. Pro. I'd be underground the rest of my life with risky trips to get supplies or maybe healthcare if things continued on the same trajectory. Con.

I wouldn't have been able to save for a bunker AND a move so pros or cons really never mattered much. A move was never guaranteed as people emigrated en masse to those zones. Space was limited, and that came with other risks. Life underground would be my future if I chose to live long enough to see it through.

So here I am both loving and regretting being alive to experience this.

Life seems vastly more complicated in the grand scheme of things while the day to day stuff grew an inversely proportional level of simple. I grow a lot of my own food with grow lights in an off shoot of my bunker. I eat simpler, have less, and don't fight for a 9 to 5 to live paycheck to paycheck. There are no paychecks anymore. Life is fundamentally about substitence. The few people around me and I trade my cucumbers for their chicken eggs or something from my stores of booze and toys for some handmade socks. Bartering for necessities or small luxuries is an interaction I actually look forward to now instead of the existential dread I associated with a trip to the grocery store.

If it weren't for watching the world end, I think I'd be happier. That whole thing is sort of like a thorn in your foot though. Try as you might to forget it and keep moving on, it's always there to remind you with a little pain and potential infection. I'd be happier without the grief I feel for life as I knew it. It's never gone, but I still find myself smiling and at peace for more than I ever had time to do before.

So I guess what I really want to do with this journal from now until it's my time is show whoever comes next the true spirit of humanity without capitalism and money, to show that we do help one another. We do love and share and work. It doesn't have to be about winners and success because we can't win unless we all win, every last vulnerable one of us. I want to write down for all to see how we lived at the end, how we helped one another, how we grew into tighter communities and bigger families, and learned a different way of life, a better one. We're not lazy and unmotivated and greedy when there's system propping up those qualities as desirable and necessary.

Actually, I think we're the light. And I'm going to prove it.


Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

Baking In A Tornado

Spatulas on Parade

Wandering Web Designer

On the Border

Part-time Working Hockey Mom

Sparkly Poetic Weirdo


Follow Me Home

Friday, April 3, 2020

These Days

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 6 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My “Secret Subject” is:

You just returned from a visit to Ireland and brought back a bit of the ol' Irish luck. What great thing has happened as a result?

It was submitted by:

I needed to vent. thanks for reading.


I guess in reality no one is going to Ireland right now. No luck of the Irish is coming to call, and I just have to hope that if I get this virus I come out of it alive instead of dying alone. I'm terrified. There's no luck here. Georgia is currently on a trajectory to see infection rates greater than 70% and an astounding death rate if our governor doesn't step in, and he's made it clear he has no intention to do least until it's too late. (since i first wrote this he finally ordered a shelter in place order after most projections indicated it was too late and only for only just over a week).

I don't know if I have it in me right now to hope for better. Our president knew this would be bad as early as January and did nothing. We have a large group of people in charge who care more about the stock market than lives. We're living in uncertain times. Not a single one of us has any idea what the future holds beyond the fact that things will never be the same again. Never.

How do you think about the luck of the Irish in a time like this? (And to be clear I know the person who sent this prompt in had no idea how things would be or maybe hoped it would be a good escape) I'm so scared and lost and feeling hopeless about the future that it's hard to talk about any sort of hope about things turning around and impossible to pretend that this all goes away with a little luck or that any change--major or minor--gets us anywhere. Because now we know. Now we know that accommodations could be made, that the government didn't step in when it should and could, that the poorest people were told they didn't need a stimulus check at first to help keep them off the street or feed them while on the street. Now we know how quickly things can get bad, how much we depend on "unskilled labor" (i hate that phrase) to function. Now we know that we're seen more as labor sources and stock market padding than anything by the people with power. Now we know how badly we do need universal healthcare.

There is no longer a normal to get back to. And while many leftists, actual leftists, never wanted that normal in the first place, we have no idea where we're going to land to try to make positive changes for the future. And all of us, absolutely all of us, are mourning the normalcy of our day to day.

There is no EPA oversight right now. None. In an environment already overwhelmed by humans.

With cfs, my immune system is compromised is ways that even the most informed experts on the disorder don't understand. Every time I have groceries brought in, every exposure is a risk. My stepdad won't close his store because Georgia isn't closing things down right now. He's exposing my mom every single day. They're still doing family things exposing the rest of my family. I might very well lose people. I already have friends with it. I've had friends denied tests because they weren't sick enough. The real numbers are very likely much higher giving us an invisible enemy around every corner.

We were told to sacrifice our grandparents and our sick (people like me!) on the alter of the Market in the Holy Economy temple. We were told to appease the capitalism gods. To sacrifice lives to keep people rich with no inkling of understanding that these bodies are needed to keep the economy spend money and give labor.

White supremacists are using their infected to spread to the groups they hate and tried to attack a hospital with a car bomb. A hospital full of covid patients.

Maybe most people I know live will through this. Maybe I do so my kid isn't parentless or doesn't have to live with a parent and stepparent who don't love him. Maybe we will find a vaccine before millions die and can maintain social distancing until that vaccine is a reality. Maybe the people in charge finally start taking this seriously--and not after it's too late like in Georgia whose major hospitals are already overwhelmed with the ceiling for the number of patients we can take looming larger and larger by day. But none of that will be because of luck. It will be fought for.

If we're lucky, if we really want some of that Irish luck, I hope we'll still have some fight left when all this is done.

Fight for change, for universal healthcare, for better than what we've gotten from two parties who care about money more than people. Fight for the most vunerable of us to finally see equality so they're not treated differently when they're dying alone in the hospital, so someone's triage choice doesn't exclude the trans patient solely based on bigotry. Fight for every state and every local government to have plans already in place to address pandemics so we don't have SHITASS governors thanking chik fil a and praying instead of closing fucking beaches. We have to get through this and still have fight left even while everyday we feel like we don't have any at all. And we'll need luck and wits and strength and determination and the highest roll possible on our polyhedral dice to make sure this doesn't happen like this to our kids and their kids.


Baking In A Tornado

Spatulas on Parade

Wandering Web Designer

A ‘lil HooHaa

Part-time Working Hockey Mom