Once Upon a Time, There Was a Flag...

Friday, February 07, 2025, 18:35

Once a long time ago, there was a time where, as a military service member, I had great respect for the above image. The American Flag, represented honor, integrity, justice, but above all, freedom and liberty. But recently, see the Star Spangled Banner leaves nothing but a yucky, disgusting, and foul taste in my mouth.

I'm somebody who grew up Conservative. I cheered on the Republicans during my youth. I would have voted for them after I became eligible, but that was not to be. And it's probably for the best. Time has passed, and as I've gotten older, wiser, I've gradually shifted more Progressive in my views. I respect other people's perspectives now. I am also now among one of the many marginalized communities whom populate this Nation.

I watched as this latest Election Cycle progressed. I sighed loudly when it appeared that 2024 was going to be nothing more than a rematch between Trump and Biden. Great. Two old geezers having a dick measuring contest to see which one of them can piss the farthest. Later in the year, when Harris was promoted to the position, I was given a shred of hope, despite knowing that the country I live in is deeply racist and misogynistic, I held my breath. Election night. I was in a near panic attack, and nearly bit off the tip of my tongue, but I was confident that several States would flip from Red to Blue, in a phenomenon known as the Blue Shift. However, when I woke up on the sixth of November, not only did I have a heart attack, but so did my beloved country, as I strained through tear filled eyes at a glaring red map of the USA staring back at me.

With as much screaming as Trump did after the 2020 election, I was sure that there would be a recount. Court challenges. Something. Anything! But no. The Democrats were silent during the seventy-some-odd days up through Inauguration Day. When noon hit on the 20th of January, I bowed my head for a moment, whilst in mid-ringing of a customer at my cash register. The customer, genuinely was concerned.

"My country has just passed away."

I had no choice but to continue on with my day. People had places to go, and people to see. Lives to live, and they couldn't, wouldn't be bothered by my massive depression. Luckily, or maybe not so much, the Trump Administration's new Shock and Awe plan is delivering bombshell after explosion, gutting Rights that I've known my entire life, and events that appear to be eerily similar to 1930s Germany are unfolding at break-neck speed.

I'm scared. I won't lie.

But seeing that flag being flown everywhere is nothing more than yet another reminder that the life I had always assumed I'd get to live-- to become old, retire some day, maybe play canasta with some other old geezers, or maybe I'll spontaneously pick up a love for working crossword puzzles? No. That won't ever happen. Because I'm not normal. I guess I could attempt to choose to be normal, but, I've already lived a lie once before in my life, and it nearly destroyed me. I'd rather live with true authenticity, and I know that I would be absolutely miserable if I did try. That's one beauty with the Past. Hindsight is always 20/20.

Not even three weeks has passed since Mr. Evil assumed power over this land, and death is creeping everywhere. I know I probably won't be the first into our new American Concentration Camps, but I know eventually I'll end up in one. Or dead, because I vowed to whatever higher power is in control of this chaos called the Universe, that I would never again find myself back behind bars. Maybe it's time to dust off that ancient copy of the Anarchist's Cookbook, make myself a vest with a dead-man's switch, so that when the time does come, I know I'll blow myself to oblivion first. Now I just need to find a material that's super comfy, and won't hurt anybody other than myself. Because I took a vow when I discovered Wicca that I would harm None, and that is my Prime Directive.

Pause. And Breathe.

I know that nobody is coming to save us. As much as I would adore to be the damsel in distress, and a brave hero to come and rescue me, to hold me securely with a loving embrace. To whisper in my ear while gently stroking my hair, saying "Shhh, you're safe now. Everything is okay." Again, no. I'm the one who has to save myself. And continue to do every-freaking-thing. Because I've learned through my nearly 50 years of living on this planet, that when you want something done correctly, the first time, you have to do it your-fucking-self. And honestly, if I have to wait for all these Second Amendment nutjobs to come with guns blazing, it's already going to be too late. They won't get off their goddamn couch until they're left uncomfortable. Or they've run out of chips and cheese dip. I'm not sure which will come first.

I'm so tired of living already. Do I really have to fill this Book of Life up to the last page?

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Once Upon a Time, There Was a Flag...

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