I don't know how any of us are doing whatever this is

I didn't want to use this thing as a personal journal. Inasmuch as I write about myself anywhere these days, it's recently been reserved for just Facebook. But I already skipped a week here, and I haven't watched anything worth expounding upon lately other than Alien: Earth, which is great, but also (a) isn't over yet, and (b) I'd prefer to just be entertained by rather than try to say something insightful about it.

So I guess I have to pull the pin and talk about the State of the Gena, which, I don't know, how are you? Ha ha ha ha. I'm frankly a little suspicious of anyone who can answer that question with something other than a pause, a mirthless chuckle, and some variation on "oh you know..." before drifting off and gazing into the middle distance. I don't want to know the person for whom things are going great right now, because either they're benefiting in some way from all the bullshit, or in such an outrageous position of privilege that they will never have to worry about how said bullshit might impact them in the future, let alone right now.

On a day-to-day, minute-to-minute basis, I'm hanging in there. I get up and go to my stupid job, I still go to all my dialysis appointments and take all my medications like a good little patient. I still await The Call, the one that tells me that somebody has died and is allowing me to not have to be on dialysis anymore. Though I gotta tell you, man, since The Lizard King became in charge of making decisions about our collective health, it's been really easy for me to be consumed with thoughts of "why am I putting myself through this?" Why am I going to put myself through the hell of major surgery, untold side effects from various medications, and destroying my immune system so that when I'm considered recovered, I can never leave my house because polio is back? I can get so many vaccinations I look like Pinhead, but if too many people are walking around out there bragging about how they're "purebloods" (but don't call them Nazis, how dare you), what will it matter?

I'm trying to do things to keep myself from slipping into despair. I've been editing my little manuscript, recording my little podcast, making my little handicrafts. I've been reading more, which has been nice. Mind you, I don't tend to read fun things (right now I'm in the middle of The Best Minds, a memoir about a man who witnessed his childhood best friend succumb to schizophrenia), but it's still a useful distraction. I've been trying to stay away from social media, because right now there's nothing that sends me spiraling faster. Of course, then I'm stuck in a guilt cycle where I know it's my duty as a citizen of the world to stay informed, but staying informed also literally makes me want to die.

Despite my best efforts, though, there's an overwhelming sense of "What are we doing here?" We keep hearing about how we're living in unprecedented times, and we're reacting to them in absolutely precedented ways: getting up, going to work, putting money into an economy that is not benefiting us in any meaningful way, and if the people currently in charge of the country have any say in it, will do so even less in the future. We're all existing in a sort of stasis, waiting for something to happen. Maybe he'll die, or somehow, inexplicably, things will suddenly get better, or a lot worse, very quickly. We keep hearing that the center cannot hold, but it's holding, somehow.

One of the reasons I'm taking a hiatus from social media is because I've grown tired both of people essentially telling others that they should give up and wait to die, and those whose contribution to The Discourse is chastising others about their failure to act. Somehow these folks haven't gotten the message yet that posting through it isn't activism either. But that's the thing: nobody is doing anything. The best the DNC can come up with to combat Trump is a glib schmuck who gets sweaty about publicly supporting trans people, because a consultant who hasn't spoken to a Democrat under the age of 65 since the Clinton Era insists its "unpopular." Liberals refuse to entertain the idea that Harris may have lost not only because she's Black and a woman, but because she's pro-Israel, and her campaign so shamelessly pandered to Never Trumpers that she might as well have chosen Liz Cheney as a running mate and run on a "girl power" ticket.

But at least liberals can organize. Leftists, we can barely organize a beer run, because we're too busy arguing purity politics and whether wanting your own kitchen makes you a member of the bourgeoisie class. I noped out of a thread a while back in which someone smugly proclaimed that "marching doesn't accomplish anything." Okay, and what does sitting on your ass and posting pussy hat memes do? Or, if you're suggesting that more extreme measures need to be taken, then what are you waiting for? Do you need an engraved invitation? Do you need money to pay for fuel for the Molotov cocktail? Start the revolution, Che, no time like the present!

We're all so full of shit. And when I say "we," I absolutely mean me too. I'm embarrassed by how much I just want to wake up one morning and see that this has all gone away. And I don't know what to do about it. So I just do what I always do: get up, go to my stupid job, etc. How am I doing? I have no idea.