The Death of Hope

 I feel as if there's been a death. Because really, there has been. My hope and faith in this country has died.

I can't eat, I haven't gotten dressed and it's the middle of the afternoon. I can barely move. Anything positive is far from my mind as I sit paralyzed in disbelief, and fear. This shadow of a human my country has apparently elected, is dark source of evil and division. He claims he has the answers and he'll fix the world. Yet his character is as obviously flawed as an airplane that can't fly. So very dark because he appeals to angry white men, Stepford Wives, White Supremacists , and the list goes on. 

I feel emotionally and physically drained knowing what is about to happen. And it's not good. As a matter of fact, it's very, very bad!

I've always used the mantra, "move towards love". Not anymore. Love didn't save this country of diversity and former freedom. If it exists, it's hiding; cowering behind hate, and the endless money that fueled trump’s campaign. It's such a dark, depressing day that's only going to storm down hate and intolerance. 

 If you're white, with money and family support to prop you up....you'll stay in your little bubble. But whatever goes wrong in your mind, you'll blameshift. Guaranteed! That's my prediction. 

The walls that have been built are not just on our borders. They are standing high and strong between friends, family and acquaintances. They'll never come down unless there's a miracle.  And I'm not sure I believe in miracles anymore. I wish I did.