The air is thick with the sound of helicopters again. Second avenue is a wave of peaceful protest, followed by a brick wall of unmarked vans and twirled batons. A woman is dead and the powers that be would like to move on now, thanks, we have a country to dismantle. The countdown races ahead and you wonder what will come of all of it. Will there be any reprieve, any relief? We have stopped wishing for joy.
It is hard to carry so much fear, so much sorrow and anger, and still try to go through the world as though business were the usual. How do we sleep, eat, file papers, when everything burns in the margins? How can we justify taking out the trash when they ask us, after the holocaust, what we did to stave off the tsunami when it came?
Breonna Taylor is dead. 200,000 people are dead. America, you have taken all, and now we are..
It occurs to me that I am America.
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