Dangerous Compassions

your love could go viral

I’m thinking of getting a tattoo on my shoulder that says, “I’m wearing this shirt so you can see my tattoo.”

Just kidding.  How are you doing?  I feel more normal socially lately, which is weird.  Seeing as it’s kind of a non-normal time.

I feel normal in that I talk to a lot of people and keep myself at the edge of being able to keep up with everyone.  So some people get neglected even though I love them and would really like to be there for them and do something trustworthy and deeply meaningful with them.

Basically I went from hyperresponsible to overly responsible to responsible to mostly responsible.  I’m still on that end of the spectrum, but I liked how I was before.  Hmmm.

But I see the appeal now, like a huge social buffet, and I can flit around tasting all these different things.  I can need people less, because there are a ton of other people.  I like to diversify and believe in that.

But those very special tender things, nothing can replace that.  My bestie and I used to email every day or two.  Now she’s a mom, and we still email, and we txt a bit.  We always love each other.  But it was fun to know all about her life, including the little things.  To be part of her days in that way, and she was in mine.

Today an etsy order from Latvia arrived.  The stationery is very beautiful.

I tend to give energy to people who don’t want it, and not give energy to others who might need it.  Then I look at my priorities and try to reign it back in.  I guess it’s a cycle–priorities cycle.

I made noodles with peanut sauce in a new way–a one pot pasta way.  It went well but needed more garlic, more saltiness, and lemon juice just won’t do, when lime juice is needed.  But the concept seems good, and I will do better next time.

Ming came home from the protest while I was sleeping.  I slept more than six hours.  Praise God.  He likes to go early and leave early, my sweet Early Packer.  My advice is “leave before the cops use the teargas,” but this protest was tame, I think.  Stretch mentioned registering people to vote.

“So people who still believe in the system, but want it changed,” I told Ming.  Then we had this whole conversation about radical beliefs under the mainstream beliefs.

“Everyone has their day job,” Ming said, and then he explained that people want extreme things but need to play normal for money, sort of, or to get the day things.

I prefer the shadow things.  But that’s me, the trikewitch.  I say, “Fuck the day job,” but I have privilege to do that.  Well, it’s a combination.  I’m lucky to be disabled, but with luck like that, who needs capitalism?

I told him about an extra-racist relative I had, and how he would play like a decent human being, but the racism was underneath, ready at any time to appear, and if he was called out on it, the reply was like, “Lighten up–can’t you take a joke?”  And, “God, you’re so serious all the time,” or something like that.

But after a while, I didn’t say anything.  Why bother.

They think they’re not the real racists–the real racists are elsewhere, wearing white robes and doing real harm.

I got upset telling Ming this, as we were on the freeway.  “I guess I have feelings about this,” I said.  Ming was taking us on an errand.  I started crying.

I was upset to remember.  And upset to be protecting my abuser even now.  Even now, I won’t say who I’m talking about, though he is dead.

Protecting your abuser is self-preservation, right?  There’s a reason I’m protecting him.  Or it’s a bad habit of 40 years.  I had to, when I was relying on him for my food and shelter.

There’s a reason he’s your abuser–you can’t leave yet.  Logistical or emotional or whatever.

Trying to do good in the world can feel like chipping at a rock mountain with a toothpick.  Chip, chip.  Oops, my toothpick broke again!

But–you never know.  You could do good on accident.  Your love could go viral.  I made a meme one time that many thousands of people saw.

Or you could save a life, or realize you have the first healthy relationship you ever had.  Something momentus, from time to time.

“Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it’s very important that you do it.”  –Gandhi

“Do small things with great love.”  –Mother T

June is the reddest month for me, and 5 is the reddest number.  So yesterday was a double red day.  I’m glad to move on to 6, which is pink right now.  And maybe June changed to yellow, which is why I want my new sign to be yellow with pink words.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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