There is something profoundly alienating about living with the imminent prospect of inevitable atrocity. Unable to not take seriously the possibility, unable to stop it, and laundry still needs to be done.

April 10, 2026 - 00:59 UTC

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I was in 8th grade during the Cuban missile crisis. The world was about to blow to smithereens -- but in case it didn't, there was still algebra homework for tomorrow.
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I was trying to think of how to describe this to someone and couldn’t think of anything other than that. And I wasn’t even born yet.
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Definite flashbacks—I remember my Dad taking us on a fallout shelter tour, like we were shopping for a car except terrifying.
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bsky.app/profile/indivisible.org/post/3mj47zldcnc2d
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While we've never had such a lunatic shitbag in this position, to those of us who grew up in the 70s hearing weekly we were likely to be nuked find this feeling familiar.
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well said
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I think of this Jim Harrison poem far too much these days.
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I had to stop soc media entirely. Came back just a few minutes ago. Gotta leave again.
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This expresses more than anything else I have read the existential dread I have felt -- from my hysterical crying that scared my husband in Nov 2016 to my more resigned but still sickening realization in Nov 2024 that we would have to do this all over again but WAY WAY worse. But life.
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See also: climate change
See also: collapse and deliberate destruction of complex systems our civilization depends upon, and therefore our lives and wellbeing, which are under constant assault by these ignorant goons
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