![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'm not laughing. Which would probably be the most obvious statement in the world, if you didn't already know that that's a thing I do when shit gets tense. Funerals, disasters. I laugh. Sometimes hysterically. It's inappropriate, but it's how I deal.
I laughed plenty yesterday, though. My mother wept the whole time she was filling out her ballot and I made fun of her afterwards and then kissed her forehead, and then a couple of older ladies we didn't know locked eyes with us on our way out of the polling place and we all grabbed each other's hands and giggled for a minute and it was such a Moment and -- how was that only eleven hours ago?? HOW?
I don't know what else to say, really. I overestimated my country. I thought we were better than this, and we're not. And it hurts.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Almost everyone I've talked to so far has been really lovely -- fierce and positive and, like, admirably placid, listing all the ways we're gonna get through this and me? Well, my first reaction to that kind of talk has been kind of a sour, ticked-off, eye-rolly-ness, because TRITE. But maybe I'm just jealous that they're already at the 'getting shit done' stage while I'm still at the 'vomiting directly into my bare, cupped hands' stage. They've got their acts together. I do not.
I laughed plenty yesterday, though. My mother wept the whole time she was filling out her ballot and I made fun of her afterwards and then kissed her forehead, and then a couple of older ladies we didn't know locked eyes with us on our way out of the polling place and we all grabbed each other's hands and giggled for a minute and it was such a Moment and -- how was that only eleven hours ago?? HOW?
I don't know what else to say, really. I overestimated my country. I thought we were better than this, and we're not. And it hurts.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Almost everyone I've talked to so far has been really lovely -- fierce and positive and, like, admirably placid, listing all the ways we're gonna get through this and me? Well, my first reaction to that kind of talk has been kind of a sour, ticked-off, eye-rolly-ness, because TRITE. But maybe I'm just jealous that they're already at the 'getting shit done' stage while I'm still at the 'vomiting directly into my bare, cupped hands' stage. They've got their acts together. I do not.
