Exit Where?

I'm on a reading kick, or maybe it's a frenzy, now that I've found I can tolerate audiobooks. Mostly I devour a thriller or crime because it feels like I'm listening to a podcast, or a fun romance because even this Jaded NYer needs a palate cleanser from all that murder, you know?

But recently I tried a quickie, a piece of literary fiction, to see if I can branch out and up my book count (why are there so many books to read but only this one life with this one brain and this one set of eyeballs?). I chose Exit West by Mohsin Hamid and let me tell you why this book fucked me up.

We are currently living in the middle of the fall of 'democracy' in these so-called United States. When the history books refer to this period, IF we have history books in the future, they'll point out all the obvious shit a lot of voters chose to ignore or overlook in order to keep being the oppressor and not allowing the oppressed to what all are supposedly entitled to according to the Declaration of Independence: Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. 

Side Note: If I were you I'd purchase printed copies of the Declaration and the Constitution while they're still intact, if for no other reason than to remember them fondly.

We can all sit here and think, "No, someone will stop it, this won't be Nazi Germany, we'll all be fine," but every day it gets harder and harder to believe that. So instead, my mind goes to, "where can I go to escape it, and how do I get there?" Which is so unbelievably depressing I can barely sleep. Y'all know I've never wanted to live anywhere, really, other than my hometown of Brooklyn, NY, and the thought of not only leaving BK, but the U.S. altogether, and be a refugee in a new place that might treat me like our government treated them? I want to throw up right now after having typed that. Like, will I be somewhere in Greece, on my deathbed, trying to remember what it felt like to stroll through Prospect Park after work? Or what a real bagel tastes like? Or the thrill of the start of the summer season of the American Ballet Theatre?

This is what ran through my head during and long after the five hours of Exit West played in my ears. It's about a couple who escape their country during a military occupation, and what they had to endure in all of the new places they had to squat in because they could not go back home. It was awful. The fear, the violence, sleeping outside, not having food, not being able to cleanse yourself, having to depend on the kindness of others in a world that's not very kind to brown people at all.

Like, can I honestly hoof it to Canada, when Toronto, as I understand it, is already pretty full? Should I chance it in Mexico? Peru? Antigua? Should I hope for a soft place to land with my family in the Dominican Republic? Maybe take a chance in an African country and leave the West altogether? Where could I go, with my whole family, and be a safe distance from the demise of this world that I know? And when I get there, will I be able to land on my feet, or will I have to pitch a tent in a shanty and pray an angry mob of nationalists don't set us on fire?

And sure, there are more serious things to worry about under the second go-round of this bullshit administration, but what is prevelant in my head is where am I supposed to go? They clearly don't want us here, so where do we go if THIS IS OUR HOME? I mean, I'm watching all this shit go down in Gaza, with the Israeli army bullying their way through Palestinian land, the destruction of life, property, standards of living, BASIC. FUCKING. HUMAN. NECESSITIES. Am I built for all that?

I don't know... where y'all going? Got room for about 15 more?

Love & Balls,
Jaded
----- 
father, father
we don't need to escalate
you see, war is not the answer
only love can conquer hate

What Else Is There To Say?

I'm sure you're just as inundated with news items coming out of Missouri as I am. Therefore I won't reiterate it here. All this news coverage and updates on social media is making me physically ill. It's 9-11 all over again, and that familiar knot has landed on my chest and won't leave. I suppose the fact that I've decided to stay and fight the good fight, in whatever form that means for me here in Brooklyn, will ease me a bit. Only time will tell. I dropped the ball after that asshole Zimmerman was set free. I won't ever forgive myself if I do it again.

In the meantime, if you, too, are looking for ways to do something- donate to those at ground zero in Ferguson, join local groups to enact change in the laws or in how police are allowed to treat citizens- let me know either in the comments or via email.

(Just a bit of comic relief because LORD KNOWS we need it!)


This isn't a Black thing, it's a human thing, and I'm not going to tell you what to do, but don't wait until the "police" bang down your door and harm your loved ones unjustly before you decide to do something. This affects all of us.

*smooches...trying to find peace*
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...first in my heart, then in the world, I guess.

It's My Season Of Doing Tough Things, I Guess.

Committing myself to yoga every day.

Committing myself to my craft and literary dreams.

Committing myself to make my loved ones a priority (I'm struggling with this one, but I promise I'm working on it).

Committing myself to (re)learning the inner workings of this land, and moving toward a better future for my kids. And by MY kids I mean YOUR kids, too. Starting now.

I went to my very first ever vigil-turned-rally on Thursday night, and I'm not sure I can describe it yet. I need to let it sink in and play it over in my head and cry about it and fuss about it, and then the words will come. And since I have this forum, I will share my thoughts then. I can say it was weird to be a part of this, knowing I haven't personally been touched by any sort of similar trauma or injustice. For a person of my brown-ness, I've managed a pretty privileged life. I actually felt like an impostor standing there, so I kept quiet and observed, which, as a writer, I suppose is more my speed.

Still, I'm committing myself to this cause because, unlike my previous mindset, all of these kids could easily be my kids. Or my friend's kids. Or my cousin's kids. So I'm in, y'all. I'm in. I mean, I already loathe The Man, might as well do something about him.

I have such a long road ahead that part of me is all "FUCK IT! We started too late! Just get back on your sofa and watch TV and wait for death!" But nah, I'm going to choose life, and every ugly, bumpy, loud, uncomfortable, tedious, and beautiful thing that comes along for the ride. Not sure what my role will be, where the path will lead, but I will use whatever skills, talents, and resources within my grasp to do whatever needs to be done.



Imagine the stories I'll have to tell my grandbabies!

*smooches...wishing you well on your own journey*
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xoxo

#NMOS14

"Join us as we gather for a moment of silence for those who have been victims of police brutality throughout the U.S. Bring posters and signs w/the names and pictures of victims so that we can remember them and burn them in the conscious of America and the world."

In Brooklyn, there's a vigil planned at Fulton Park Plaza; in Manhattan I know of one in Union Square and another in Harlem. Follow the #NMOS14 to find one in your area. And please, we're all angry, but this is a peaceful vigil to remember our fallen brothers and sisters. Let's keep it that way.

*smooches...trying to hold back tears for the sixth day in a row*
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not sure how much longer before I burst

Musical Interlude For Sanity's Sake

Because if I don't dance these feelings out, you're going to see me on the six o'clock news, atop the clock tower downtown, picking off cops one at a time. Real talk.

Yeah I said it.



Play this on repeat and dance with me.

*smooches...trying to release this negative energy*
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I got nothing, man. just let me dance in peace.