Dear World
Please Kill Me,
Well, it’s been a little over a month since I’ve posted anything on here. I’d apologize for the ostensible neglect, but I have a feeling that most of you understand the reasoning behind it. For those of you new to the party (or recently awoken from a three-year comma) the world has pretty much gone to shit. Not just our country, mind you. Literally, THE WHOLE F*CKING WORLD is adrift on the damp scrabble board that is our current level of discourse and collaboration.
I don’t like getting too wrapped up in complaints or scrutinization of ideologies. If we’re being honest here (and GOD I hope that we can still be honest somewhere) most of us probably skew somewhere closer to the middle, than the extremists on either side.
If we’re being REALLY honest—no ideological group has got all the answers. Due to that, most people associate themselves with a group based on its leader and/or preferred state of affairs. Globally, elections have become something akin to talent shows or Miss Universe pageants. We have offices filled to the brim with Honey Boo-Boo’s and tyrants rather than an altruistic team equipped to lead.
*shrugs*
“Such is life.”
By all means, back who you back, but don’t allow the rhetoric to warp your individuality. Dedicated members of political parties are starting to look less like singular citizens with varying perspectives and opinions, and more like all the extras in Eminem’s “The Real Slim Shady” video. Rebellious attitudes mean nothing in the face of total conformity. But I digress.
Anyway, the world is shit now. Like many of you, I’ve spent the better part of this quarantine steadfastly checking statistics while mourning the crumbling wall of normalcy that had once been firmly cemented in my brain.
We wear gloves now. And facemasks. We can’t hug or high-five. Toilet paper is currency and we’ve all grown accustomed to talking over one another on Zoom conversations. Weird. Unsettling. Almost assuredly, the unknowable has severed the norm. It’s survival mode time (and I f*cking hate it).
However, I’m not so inured as to lose hope. I still have what I do. All I do. Writing has been a much-needed respite from the overflowing sewage pipe that is our reality. Though admittedly, my process has changed.
In order to get back into the groove, I had to admit and accept a few things about our global situation. Maybe it will help to share them with you:
- Our leaders are there. Not much we can do until the election. (#Vote)
- Facts still matter and people still LOVE spinning them.
- Handshakes aren’t coming back for a while.
- Neither are concerts or parties (as we knew them).
- Due to the closure of movie theaters, “Bad Boys For Life” has a LEGIT shot at sweeping the Oscars. (#Win #GiveWillSmithAnOscar #YouCowards)
- WASH YOUR F*CKING HANDS! (#JustSaying)
- Life’s still going on, whether you’re drowning in hard liquor or doubt.
- We’re a nation that cares…When we’re allowed to.
- Disney owns us all.
- It’s going to be okay.
And that’s my screed about this CoCo-19 situation. Outside of that, it seems like we’re still just suffering from the same problems we had no time to talk about before. We’re still just people after all. Still evolving. Still learning. Still adamantly obsessed with ourselves. Still willing to adapt. Still better than the worst. I think that’s perfectly acceptable given the circumstances. Just try not to drown in the crap when the flush inevitably comes. That too, human.
Anyways, I have a book:Bedlam: A Collection of Things. It’s currently on sale for $4.99 (until I run out of toilet paper). Buy it. Read it (Fondle it gently?) and let me know what you think.
Other than that, I hope that you’re all doing well. I’ll try to get on here more often.
Maybe I won’t.
That’ll have to be fine too.
Until Next Time,
Antwan Crump
P.S. Carole did it.
Welcome to the depths of chaos. After exploring themes of humanity and destruction in the previous two installments, Antwan Crump furthers the “A Collection of Things” series with six thrilling new tales that redefine life, death, desire, and consequence. Do we dare to face the darkness or will it devour us before we can question its purpose?
Eye of the Writer 