Some of these are out of order. They’re random events written down with a sleep deprived mind and a belly full of left over pizza and flat Cola. I should have had the 7up.
After I say what I need to say, will I have the courage to push the button, publish? This is my private Gehenna. Gehenna was an area outside of Jerusalem where a fire was kept burning for general trash and the bodies of criminals. If I place what’s in my head and leave it here, maybe I can get away from the smoke, breath easier and get some sleep.
In the 2nd grade I had a world map on my bedroom wall. What I wouldn’t give to have another world map. I have no idea where to get an affordable, large size world map. I always wanted a brown globe. Thinking of all the life on that circle, all the potential, the differences; it thrilled me as a youngster and still does. For a girl who doesn’t know directions, north, south, east, west, I’m all about geography. Funny how my brain works.
I used to look at the world map to see how far away Iran and Iraq were from my house.
The first president I remember being in office was Ronald Reagan. I remember he had to answer quite a few questions about his conduct but he claimed to have no memory of the events. Despite his illness, I never believed he couldn’t remember.
I remember refusing to drink Coca-Cola because the company wouldn’t pull out of countries that were guilty of crimes against humanity, specifically apartheid.
I remember Reagan telling the people of Berlin that he’s a donut. I remember him saying Mr Gorbachev, tear this wall down! People hit it with sledge hammers and crumbled iron but left hatred standing.
As the only African-American in my 8th grade class, I was highly offended watching a movie about the KKK with the n-word used more times than I could bear. I walked out! The teacher kept calling my name. I turned to her and said I’d be in the principal’s office.
In high school I watching the news of Tiananmen Square. The screen blacked out and the shooting started. I sat motionless, trying to process the sounds and the reality of what I witnessed with my ears. I have never forgotten it.
I regret watching Roots. Any movie based on history is movie I don’t need to see. Historical fiction uses real life emotion.
La Amistad the movie is burned in my head.
I regret watching the life story of Mandela.
I chose not to watch Schindler’s List.
I regret seeing The Last King of Scotland. I refused to see Hotel Rwanda. I refused to watch Blood Diamonds.
I regret watching Casualties of War. I will never forget the young girl who was raped, stabbed, shot and then fell from a bridge to her death.
I find revolting: Al Sharpton and his buddy Jessie Jackson. I am disgusted by Bill Clinton but thoroughly loath the Bush family and anything connected to Cheney. The first president I ever looked at and thought, this man is a fool, is George W. Bush. The first time I understood what it meant to be blood guilty was when I watched Pope John Paul II face a crowd of people and give Mass, knowing full well what he harbored, and ultimately put his blessing on.
In high school literature class I walked in and saw on the board, written in capital letters, THE BRITISH ARE COMING. Under it was written, The Japanese are here!. Much to the approval of the teacher, I was guilty of writing the bit about the Japanese. At the time, the US targeted them for hatred. I regret writing that.
With all the so-called ‘illegals’ gone, on whose shoulders will you place your problems?
When I was a kid, I tried as best I could to understand the world, but I had my own problems. I had to deal with puberty, nuns, a sadistic family, homelessness and peers. Looking back, the world felt chaotic but not out of control crazy. I can’t imagine trying to grow up in this disaster where no one wants to be reasonable, where people commit crimes that make me shiver. I am watching a man named Trump anger all but bigots. The man is disgusting on every level, but he is no fool.
I’m sad for people who can’t see through a smoke screen. I’m sad for people who aren’t able to hear the same propaganda used in all the world wars, in all the racist chants and all the slogans to focus attention away from the real problems. I don’t understand why people don’t learn from the past and why they allow themselves to be manipulated so effortlessly, effortlessly.
I find it harder and harder to trust anything I read about current events because everyone has their own agenda, so I stopped reading so much. I don’t understand putting 6 thousand articles against or for this or that group on a Facebook page as if it’s going to change anything. Pushing a few buttons is so easy, living peacefully, now that takes effort. No matter what ‘leaders’ do, individuals still have the option of living with each other, next to each other peacefully. I can only shake my head at how history repeats itself and everyone looks shocked by it.
As bad as it was in Indiana, Florida and Texas where I lived, I feel lucky having been an 80’s baby.
I’m typing this at 2 pm on Thursday afternoon with little sleep since Tuesday evening / Wednesday afternoon. I’m so tired I can’t sleep. My eyes have given up on me; the screen is a blur. I can’t see what I’m typing, at all. I only hope something of this turns out the way I mean it.