jellochihuahua

[jellochihuahua]

The Slow, Inevitable, Churn of the Coming Storm

Watching November 5th get closer and closer on the calendar feels like waiting for a category 5 hurricane that the Cone of Uncertainty TM says is coming to destroy my home in particular.

Having lived my entire life in hurricane zones, it is a feeling that is terribly familiar. I have done the official preparations (voted early) and now it's just a waiting game till the disaster hits. I of course have been keeping up with the news as a Concerned Citizen and I am filled with dread and anticipation as what seems like unavoidable disaster comes bearing down on me and my loved ones. The genuine experts seem flummoxed, these things are less predictable than they used to be. The temperature has been turned up across the board so these events can escalate faster and farther than they did in the past. The models that used to make us feel like we understood what was going on have been so wrong lately that if anything they're making things feel even less certain.

There's still some time, and winds could change, but the analysis seems to be that trends are generally Not Looking Good. The problem is of course that this storm is so big that there's no real way to evacuate, and I don't have the resources to Just Move. So now, either it misses and disaster is narrowly averted or it's a direct hit and my life (and my family's life) has to start being rebuilt in a certified Disaster Area.

I hate this feeling when it comes to hurricanes and politics and it's really shitty that These Kinds of Things are only going to get more common and more intense from here on out. The big difference of course is none of my neighbors would ever cheer for a hurricane, but they're all really excited about The Storm.

It's a week and a day till the polls close and I feel like I should treasure these finals days before everything goes to shit. Seven and a half days till the American Experiment ends. But there are no sandbags I can fill that will keep out the flood of fascism, no storm shutters that will protect my family from the winds of racist hate that are sweeping across the country. Only a week to take stock of how things are now, to remember Things As They Are before they become Things As They Were. There's a chance it ends up being a near miss, but the aftermath of a direct hit fills me with dread.

[jellochihuahua]

Setting Up

There's something hopeful about setting up a new account. Especially on a site (like tumblr) that's really user driven. You're starting over from scratch, choosing how to display yourself to a community. Picking a handle, a profile pic, descriptions, fonts, color schemes, these are the elements of a self you can choose anew. The sweet anticipation of a thing that is beginning; fantasies of new you that can be anyone in a room full of strangers who have all constructed their own selves for display. It's been awhile since I've had this feeling of possibility, and I'm enjoying it even if it's a bit naïve. It's good though, to enjoy the things you enjoy. It's okay to relish a silly feeling that other people might not get.

[jellochihuahua]

Keeping a promise

Last year my favorite uncle passed away, and it was pretty tough on the family. He was the youngest of my uncles, and he died far too soon. He was everyone's favorite; he was the best of us. At his funeral I got up and talked about how he'd been the bravest of us, how he'd been the one who was unafraid to follow his dreams. He was an artist in a family of engineers and doctors and we all loved how he was fiercely himself. And then he was gone. I got up and looked his young daughter in the eye and told her how he'd live on in all of us, how we all needed to honor his memory by carrying him with us in our hearts. I told myself that I needed to remember that through action. I promised myself that I would pursue writing again. That I would do something to create, instead of only consuming. So after procrastinating for a couple months, here I am, writing things down. I feel like if I just keep writing anything, it'll be better than writing nothing? Something is always better than nothing I guess. Why do this on tumblr, and not somewhere else? Maybe I'm off, but I feel like this community is more accepting of written introspection than most other sites. Plus, if I ever write something and it gets popular then maybe my little brother will see it and he'll reference it to me and I'll say "oh that's pretty interesting" while quietly smiling inside because I know a secret and he doesn't.

This post is the first step on trying to keep a part of myself alive. A tiny spark that has been sputtering under the pressure of everyday life for a decade with no oxygen. I will vomit my thoughts and feelings onto this page because to keep it down would be poison. I will do it for myself, and I will do it in memory of my mother's brother who refused to let the world choose his path for him. Maybe this is all a bit dramatic but sometimes I want to be dramatic. And so I will, here, in my own little corner. Even if no one reads what I write, I will have done the thing and I will be better for it. Here's to you, Uncle Tuan.