It has been hard for me to write, not just here but anywhere, since the events of November. Every passing day doesn’t seem to make it any easier. New anger, new fear, new acrimony all revolving around old feuds and annoyances. Since the 20th of January a bonfire has been lit and all parties on both sides seems wholly dedicated to keeping it going. The house is on fire and there is not a firetruck in sight.
While all this is going on though life continues as it has for so long. Sleeping gives over to waking, then meals, then work, then distractions then sleeping. Like the rocking gears inside a pocket watch it all just swings back and forth. Nothing seems to change, but everyone is fearful of when it actually starts to. Assuming it will and, given the nature of all the words that are flying around, it is certainly going to change and in no ways for the better.
In an atmosphere like that it is difficult to find anything to drive yourself except psychic momentum. Bodies are in motion and will remain that way because all of them fear that if they stop for a moment they will not be able to get going again. So it has been for me, using the momentum I have built up over the past months and trying to lose as little of it as possible.
It is far too easy to lose momentum though when you are surrounded by friction layered like the fur of a herding dog. Moving along the tiny hairs reach up to you like flowers towards the sun trying as hard as they can to take away a little something from you. A little hope is the best, or a little love, peeling back the good things in life slows you down bit by bit. At the same time the those same hairs seek to paint you with something of their own, a little fear, a little doubt or a little distrust clings to you like water to a songbird’s wings, pinning you to the ground.
All this resistance reaches out to you from every place you turn. Some of it can be avoided but so much of it cannot be. Perversely though our very nature has been diverted in such a way so as to make the very idea of avoiding it negative. The dialogue is filled with echo-chambers and ostriches and no shortage of people more than a little willing to tell you that if for one moment you let your guard down, if for one minute you pause and reflect that you are any number of hateful thing. You are letting everyone else down, you are ignorant or simple minded, the voices fan out from the cloud of resistance all too willing to do everything they can to make you feel bad about yourself for trying to remain sane, or for you trying to think for yourself and come up with your own conclusions.
While all this is going on events continue to unfold, all of them with the same implacable air of inevitability. As I watch them open like a ruined origami swan I realize that I have the same level of control over what is happening as I do for the alignment of Orion’s belt.