I felt foggy too.
I don’t have much rage anymore, but I could feel it this morning. It was palpable.
I don’t know that the rage is gone. Maybe it’s subsiding a bit.
With every word I’m typing it’s becoming clearer, though.
I’ve been wrestling with it for awhile now. I think, though, that I’m not going to vote for Hilary Clinton. I’m not.
Where does that leave me?
I see three options.
- Don’t vote.
- Vote #JillStein. Might as well be a vote for Trump though, right?
- #VoteTrump. I’m serious.
I can’t, we can’t go back to the Clintons, can we? They’re slippery as hell. The get away with shit. Even if they are not guilty, they are guilty. They are status quo. They are big banks. They’ll say what you want to hear, even while they contradict what they’ve said before.
That’s what Trump does.
Trumps words and the Republican platform and people that embrace it whole heartedly is what’s wrong with the the country. It’s odorous and counterproductive.
The Clintons say the right things. A Clinton presidency will be beyond contentious. It will be plagued by scandal, just like the last one.
It’s easy for me to say this. A Trump presidency will not affect me, not at first anyway. They won’t come for me, or build a wall because of me. Not at first anyway.
Bernie Sanders has sold out. That “revolution” is over.
Maybe, though, a #TrumpPresidency is what we need. Maybe we need to be exposed. It’s already leaked out, the country’s gross underbelly.
Hate, racism, division never really went away, did it? It was just hiding, waiting in the weeds, marking time. Don’t call it a comeback. It’s been here for years.
Maybe it’s time for a full resurgence. Maybe we need to see the ugliness in full in the bright burning sunlight of the day. Maybe we need to stop fooling ourselves, that either one of these choices is a choice at all.
What am I going to do? Protest? Hit the streets? Pick up a weapon? I won’t. I don’t have it in me.
But I’m not, I can’t vote for the easy choice. I don’t think I can look my daughter in the eye, with everything we talk about, with everything I tell her I stand for, and #VoteHilary. I won’t be able to look at myself.
Maybe we need to burn it down. Figuratively. Probably figuratively.
I’m not sure I’m brave enough to actually fill in the line with my pencil where it says “Trump” when I go to vote in November. I’m not sure I’m brave enough not to vote, either. I have a bit of time – not long, but a bit – to decide.
I’m not voting Clinton, though. I can’t. Maybe I’ve gone crazy. Maybe I’m the only sane one left.
What do I stand for? What do you?
Sometimes when you sit down, maybe you’re standing up after all.