THIS IS US
Are You Okay? Because I’m Not.
I’m done pretending that everything’s fine
I’m not okay.
It’s a simple three-word confession.
I’m. Not. Okay.
I’m not okay with the rise of authoritarianism, the rhetoric of “my freedom vs. yours,” or the consistent need for views to be punctuated by the ring of rifle fire. Every morning I’m faced with reminders on the backs of bigger and bigger trucks that “they can’t hang us all” and there will be “no surrender.” It’s becoming increasingly more difficult to enjoy a morning walk when you realize political disagreements in America are potentially lethal now.
I’m not okay as a veteran without a country.
I’m not okay when writers are stabbed on stage.
I’m not okay with the rising temperatures, increasingly regular wildfires, and the disappearance of autumn. Every year I watch the waters rise in Charleston. An inch here, an inch there, slowly climbing over streets and sidewalks. Water is a more regularly appearing uninvited guest in homes and stores. I wonder how long after I am gone before this city and many others exist only in pictures in books and the graveyards of memory.
