10 November 2016
rhymes with fight
they're still there, these words. scribbled in chalk in the middle of a january night on the concrete support beams of a bleak suburban underpass. ten months later, who knew they'd still be there? that they wouldn't have been scrubbed off or painted over? or that sidewalk chalk could even last this long?
initially, I left them there because I thought, well, you never know. you never know who might need to read them. as it turns out, it was me. I needed them. I needed them yesterday and I needed them today and I will need them for the next four years and I will probably need them everyday until the end of times, I think.
there's a lot of hate in this country right now, we are swimming in darkness here. not that it's anything new-- this hate is decades, centuries old. but we reached sickening new heights with it tuesday night when half of america chose to elect who they did. which means we've got a world of work to do, folks. and it's gonna take a crap load of light.
a little more sidewalk chalk couldn't hurt either.