It is November 4, 2020 in the afternoon as I write this. I suppose it is a historic time within a historic time (within another one? Matrosyka style) as we all sit, waiting to see what manner and variety and weight of shoes are gonna fucking drop during this 2020 presidential race. This period of time in limbo ultimately will be a blip on my and all the collective histories of those un/fortunate to be aliiiiive during this times.

As everything else in this horrific year, there is no easy resolution and conclusion and I suspect things are going to get uglier before we can carve out the teeniest, dirtiest, hardest-won, most flickering bit of hope for us, for this country. I hope I can come back to this space and report that things have gotten a little less sucky.

It’s hard to describe how hard this has been, under the rule of the current leader, to These COVID Times, to this election.

I don’t know why I’m writing this nonsensical post. I want to try to remember this and do what I can not to come back here.