It’s an upside-down place where the poor are to subsidize the rich, where people are to be rewarded for eschewing public education and owning things like golf courses and private jets. Where healthcare for seniors with cancer was taken away by a senior with cancer.
It’s not a great place.
I joked with someone the other day that we’re living in a Dickens novel, the one he faked his death and escaped to the future to write. I dubbed it “The Rise of the Dotard.”
For the solidification of power to do more things like create a wealthy ruling class to whom the rest of us must pay our tribute, this group whose morality is long past questionable has taken to making child molestation no biggie. It’s a mild shrug, they’re probably lying anyway, they claim, implying it doesn’t matter if they aren’t. It doesn’t matter if the man twice removed from the bench, the second time permanently, was banned from malls and the YMCA and had a personal babysitter at football games.
And by now you’re likely wondering why my blog, which tends to focus on light observations and mood and, of course, the process of writing, is, today, about these things.
Because the world now is about these things.
And if we want to stay creative, if we want to do creative work, it’s a harder fight than ever. It’s easy to get lost in this this mirrored maze of false reality. So lost that it drains us like an greedy app drains a phone. 75%, 50%, 25% done.
It’s OK to retreat from it all sometimes. Don’t give up the fight, Never give up the fight, it’s too important. But it’s OK to retreat from it all, or creativity will whither.
And who are we without that creativity?
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