It is a disorienting, paralyzing miasma that drowns out every joy, every hope, every certainty. I’ve never in my life been so terrified of the future. This uncertainty—will we keep this democracy, will we stay free, will we end up living in an authoritarian state? What future are we offering our children? It is horrifying, and it takes over. This fear is choking me. For a while, I held it at bay by staying away from the news. I made the mistake over the last week of dipping my feet back into it on social media, which is its own kind of hellscape.

I need to stop again because I truly cease to function if I currently consume the news; however, that’s easier said than done when you see what is at stake, with the orange shit stain and its ilk ignoring the courts, talking about impeaching judges they don’t agree with. There’s hope for the midterms, but is there? They won’t cancel them, but they could cheat. They could make it hard for people to vote. Voter suppression. Gerrymandering. It’s all already in their playbook.

Donating to organizations that fight for democracy helps me sleep at night, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Yet, I am not an activist. I don’t have it in me. Is that an excuse because I am just too comfortable and lazy? Is that how democracies fall—because too many people can’t get off their asses and fight?

I always wondered why people didn’t escape Germany. I know now, and I wish I had never learned this.

My writing is shattered. I cannot seem to make myself work on my story. It’s like this block—not writer’s block. I don’t even open the file. There’s a part of me that even wants to quit writing because what is even the fucking point? I won’t stop, but it’s distressing to even feel like this.

I don’t understand.

I don’t understand hate, fear of diversity, fear of the other. I don’t understand this lack of compassion and empathy. I don’t understand this willingness, this lust to tear it all down, to see it all burn. I don’t understand the indifference—worse, the glee and joy in seeing people they deem undeserving or as the inferior other suffer. I don’t understand cruelty, and it all breaks my heart. I feel so utterly broken.

But I suppose that’s the point—because if you demoralize people, if you trap them in their dread and fear, then you control them in a way. You will be able to get away with everything because fear paralyzes, and cynicism kills all hope. So, why would you bother fighting?

It’s also all this… “We need to do something! We need to fight!” But what the fuck are we supposed to do? Everyone is just screaming, “The house is on fire, we need to fix it,” but no one even knows that water puts out the fire. Everyone is just running around screaming and crying and accusing others of not doing their part.

It feels like a slow-motion train wreck, and the thing is, it’s hard to figure out what is real concern and what is fearmongering for engagement or to distract and paralyze. AI is not making this any better with how easily stuff is faked with this technology.

I get greed. As in, greed is nothing new, and people often seem willing to go to bed with a monster if it leads to an increase in their bank account. Never mind this monster always turns around and eats you too, but what do I know?

When I was in my late teens/early twenties, I was really into astrology, and I had my birth chart done. I recall it talked about how I would live in a time of great social and societal upheaval and transformation. It was a footnote then. Now, I feel like setting it on fire—as if that was responsible for the dumpster fire that is our current reality.

Germany used to be a source of comfort.

At least people and politics there hadn’t lost their minds. Wait. I stand corrected—because it truly seems like everyone is losing their shit. I stipulated that too many people are bored and doing too well. Not saying that people aren’t suffering here or in Germany, but most don’t have existential worries, and with the education system being devalued and people no longer caring about history, it’s like, oh, what could go wrong? “We need their votes. We can control them.” It sounds so familiar, doesn’t it? Especially the ending was awesome. Why the fuck are we taking this road again?

Look, I get it. I also don’t easily learn from the experience of others with certain things, but this one?

My well of hope used to be overflowing, and no matter what life had thrown at me, it was easy for me to get back up and jump right back into the fray. Perhaps this makes the current state more devastating, as I’ve been facing a drought, and I don’t know how to replenish what just keeps running through my fingers. I long for certainty in a world that offers none. I know life in general doesn’t offer certainty, only the illusion of it.

But you know what we had? We knew a year from now, the world we lived in would very unlikely be radically different. We didn’t have to worry about losing our freedoms. Or perhaps this is also me speaking from a privileged position, given that war, destruction, and a loss of freedom have plagued many regions and countries across my lifetime.

The amount of tears I’ve spilled since November 6th is unreal, and it’s more than at any other time in my life. There are days when I struggle to stop crying, hence my embargo on the news. Funny enough, this includes my bout with cancer. I didn’t cry as much then.

What has repeated, though—back then, I recall going to the grocery store early one morning, and a lot of older people were there, and I glared at them, green with envy. I was in my early thirties then and didn’t know for sure if I’d survive it, and when I looked at them, I was jealous because they’d lived a full life so far—an assumption, I know. If they had children, they got to see them grow up. They had decades on me. Now, I envy them, too, but for another reason.

And this is the crux of my current dilemma: I’ve reached a point where I envy the dead. That’s not a way to live, and I’m working on it. It would help if the world could stop burning for a hot second.

I hope my fears won’t come true, and some of you might say I’m exaggerating. Perhaps, but this is how current events feel to me. And if you made it until here, and what you’re feeling is amusement—maybe even joy or glee at my “delicious liberal tears”—do us both a favor and vacate (that means exit) my life. We are completely incompatible in every possible aspect.