January 10th, 2021
Somebody on the internet set me off tonight.
Someone I love said, “You’re a writer. You should be better than the words that you’re saying right now.”
She’s right.
I can not, no matter how hard I try, ever understand people who live to set fire to the world, and who intentionally choose to hurt other human beings.
And as my thumbs trudge through the icy social media slush, it feels like those people are growing by number and getting louder.
And I think that’s where the anger comes from today. I feel alone.
I’m frustrated. I’m sad. I’m sorry for the times I said something mean or stupid. I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to hurt anybody.
Part of the human process, at least for me, is to get up, recognize that I am flawed, and then forgive myself for all of it — so I can live today in a way that I don’t take my past out on my present.
I don’t always succeed.
But I gather letters and words together and I try to use them in a better way, like a shovel to clear a path to understanding.
I just have so much trouble accepting that some people will choose to sit in a storm.
The Den 