No. I'm NOT ok. You should not be ok, either. It isn't as simple as moving forward and respecting each other and each other's opinions. If you in anyway supported or voted Trump back into office, you are not my friend. You voted for HATE You voted for BIGOTRY You voted for DECEIT You voted for FACISM You voted for CRUELTY You voted for GREED You voted for EVIL You voted against DEMOCRACY You voted against FREEDOM You voted against EQUALITY You voted against KINDNESS You voted against HUMANITY You voted against PEACE You voted against me. But worse... You voted against yourself. When I look at what just happened, I am most heart broken and OUTRAGED to clearly see a fatal flaw in some humans. It isn't just about being a good human - you know: kind, empathetic, understanding, helping, telling the truth, etc. - It's a matter of MORAL ETHICS. You know "moral ethics...the internal rules that make you who you are ...
THE STORM By Autumn Boyet Stinton – July 20, 2017 The storm clouds outside reflect the storm brewing in my soul. My steely cold frustration with narcissistic turbulence collides with the heat of anger and produces a head of thunder, lightning and rage that will not be contained. Negative energy feeds upon itself growing to critical mass, destined to explode and rain down agony upon me and all around me. Emotions swirl and the outflow of grit and dirt blast away protection leaving each nerve exposed and feeling raw. My stomach pitches as the thunder begins to rumble and roll, unleashing a warning chorus of impending danger. “Run away,” it admonishes. “Take cover,” it warns. The air is electrified with sizzling energy that seeks to lash out and plunge its wrath into whatever may quench its thirst. As if to give credence to the warning rumble of the thunder built from angst, the full intensity of the storm bursts forth...
I can see myself as though from a position above – a watcher, who can not only see the breadth and ferocity of my situation, but too, the depth of raw emotion that clouds me from my own ability to see. I am lost in my vision of even myself. I am crushed by a pressing weight of angst as it spreads through my chest causing pins and needles to crawl and twist up my neck thus creating the desperate need for me to gasp for air – pulling it in over the hot coals that reside in my chest. I struggle as though breathing through sand, but I drag in a raged breath. I gasp and draw not enough air – only enough to sustain life; only enough to feel the agony of my breath as it catches on the sharp edges protruding from my heart. Each snag makes my soul cry out in despair. But there is no stopping the pain, for it is also coursing through my blood – a river of molten desperation, restricted in flow and building pressure. My closed eyes bul...
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