COVID CHAOS This Sunday at the Worster Center

As I take a break from my mad scrabble to get my ideas onto computer before I once again join the workforce. I am struck by thoughts about the current climate.

I have been told that 10% of the people will not like what you do.

I have also had the idea drilled into my head in reaction to my insecurities and social anxieties that no one is really thinking about me, they are too concerned with themselves.

Now. I look at how people will make any excuse not to protect me or the people I care about. They will use crime statistics from the 1980s just to keep the police going the way they are. With no restriction, a business, quotas, unchecked power.

They will listen to a person on the internet with no medical credentials explaining why they shouldn’t wear masks. You see you breath back in the CO2 and it’s toxic.

They will talk about other diseases that kill more people in the year. Without understanding just how quick Covid is killing people.

They will use the same idea with how fast the Earth is warming up. The earth has always gone through changes. They stretch this fact, just not to recycle a plastic water bottle.

And then when you finally make a good argument you get “You should get off social media” “You need to quit starting at the internet all day, go for a walk”

Then they say, “How has Donald Trump actually affected you”. Honestly I sound like a pussy when I say my anxiety is up when I read a new thing he says. I feel the very fabric of reality tear when his supporters twist their own thoughts to support a reality tv show host, so I lay there on the couch, the bed, the floor waiting for the ball to drop. The people he feeds also use the same statistics to benefit their own pocket.

He does Affect me. I’ve waste the last four years of my life in a state of limbo waiting for this idiot to drop the bombs.

The feeling is still there. But now knowing how many people want this to happens, leaves me not caring anymore. I’m going to write and walk my dog. Then I’m going to work, write, and walk my dog until the bombs do fall.

My only hope the words I have to squeeze from my brain (my poor brain that has been tortured with booze and the ideas of the alt-right) will go to the right people and they will find the solace that my physical form is not allowed to have.