Blinking With Fists

Compliments of Deviant Art

There is a disquieting vibration running through my body today. I feel disturbed, dismayed at the current turn of events. Two men whose hatred is so blind that killing innocent school chidren, 88 to be exact, seemed like a good cause which they were willing to kill and die for. Eighty-eight who had no qualms with them; eighty-eight that still lived under the shroud of innocence; eighty-eight that simply were of a different color. In white tails and top hats no less.

There is a discomforting flow running through my veins today. I feel discouraged, distressed that at this crossroad of possible change, some will kill while others speak in falsity because bigotry blinds and stands in the way of clear vision. Hatred and intolerance does not evolve a society, but only serves to further diminish its value, yet it is evident that it is still a plate of which some still sumptuously feast.

There is a restless feel in the chambers of my heart today. I feel melancholic and blue with a dismal view of the future. I’ve not felt this way since 911 when many of our own were slain and violated by another’s hateful ideology. But this time the acts bear more sinister faces because they come from one of our own – those that come covered in cloths not unlike our own, those that speak a tongue not unlike the one we hear ourselves speak with, and yet I feel uneasy and slightly threatened because we are not speaking the same language and it is in that lack of understanding that ultimately births ignorance. And ignorance in this case is dangerous. And I am left saddened because this is us at our worst; this is us at our best?; this is us in all our ugliness and craziness, and it is a damn, pitiful shame.

Phobos and Deimos have pulled in their chariot with their angry God in tow, ready for war; Fear and Panic now hold center court. The seeds of hatred that were scattered across this vast land were buried deeper into the ground by the hooves of riled messengers that have now birthed a hostility running rampant in our nation.

And I am tired. I am tired of the snide remarks, of the folksy humor, of the instilling of panic and fear, of the lies, of the constant chattering and finger pointing. I am tired of it all. For every step we move forward, we move several steps back; I feel we are not making gain. Every prejudice of color, economy, or policy is being dissected with its repelling innards shown. And I suddenly feel like reclusing myself from everything until November 4th at which time I will cast my vote and cast my hope that things will work out for the best. But I feel, deep in this heart, deep inside these veins and the muscles of my body, that no matter the outcome, no matter the winner, it will not feel like a victory. Because hate will not banish itself from this nation after November 4th. It will seethe and continue to fester. And this is the reason why I am disquieted, this is the reason why I am discomforted, this is the reason why today I feel restless. Because in a war of hate and ignorance, there are never any winners.