I’m not sure it’s healthy anymore to hang your integrity on a coat hook of fine ethics and take a seat at the table of morality for a meal that if it could talk would probably say hey idiot if you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn around.

I thought about this this morning, when after reviewing the events of the past two years while sipping on coffee I realized too many people have grown too comfortable with generating panic and violence as a backwards way of empowering themselves and that to truly combat this I must start to gently remind myself and them that I don’t want to talk about what’s fair or good or ethical for a while, and would rather have a conversation about simple, pleasing, everyday things, like my realizing last night that I liked Sun butter better than peanut butter on my PB & J.

You’re thinking good luck with that, this guy is living in La La Land, if he thinks he won’t be brought down in a flaming fuselage of national news, or that he can ignore the day’s immoralities by simply thinking differently, he probably doesn’t have kids,

and I agree, I am trying to generate an imaginary world where most of today’s harms: COVID, racism, international inhumanity, a dishonest political climate and plain old fashioned CEO greed and its counterpart working class social and child neglect don’t exist at best, and at worst will become far less powerful with less attention, and admittedly, I’m not getting very far with any of it knowing sleep has a way of bringing back a moving paper bag of insomnia hiding an anxiety that’s even more terrible, to the marbled, front steps of peacefulness I’ve erected to ascend over what I’ve tried to ignore.

But feeling alive and worth anything happens each time I try to take care of myself, whether I fail at it or not, reestablishing a new path of trust and self-compassion that I can follow when what’s on the news seems too unreal to be real, and only La La Land can keep me safely and restfully in a life.