Sometimes, after a good round of doom scrolling, I feel the need to lighten the load. It’s reasonable I think. I typically retreat to the mainstays of internet comedy, memes.
But meme’s can get dark too, a doom scrolling of a different type.
Yesterday a meme of Marie Antoinette’s head came up.
I smiled at first but then it was time for the execution to begin.
Maybe we’ll call this tales from the executioner.
Offering a sort of sangfroid, the music was unlike anything the crowd had ever heard. Notes weaving from the stage slid their ways into the patrons brains.
They swayed.
They bounced.
They flailed.
They … except Marlon. A singular bastion of disgust in a sea of enthralled fish.
Marlon watched the band jump around the stage creating a cacophony.
“I will never understand.”
“You don’t have to! Just let the music take you!” His right hand woman, Aileen, jumped around beside him. “I can’t stop!”
“I can’t imagine why. Instead of dancing why don’t you help kill the vampires.”
Aileen spun away, joining with another vibrating group of club patrons.
“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”
There’s something gnawing at the edge of my spirit
Small but persistent, hidden
Words once exchanged, hasty love
Bought sight unseen
Stored away in dark, cool places
It becomes secret doors
Scraped away in stone
And hidden ruminations
Based on smell alone
Ragtag Daily Prompt: Gnaw
If we believe every situation is an opportunity then what do we call this weeks pivotal moment?
In case you’re unfamiliar with the dumpster fire that has been US politics, let me give a brief explanation.
Trump held a rally, near the capitol, on the same day the vote was expected to be certified for Biden. He riled his followers up, as he has done for 4+ years, and they stormed the capitol. An angry mob of domestic terrorists broke into the building and vandalized it.
I watched it unfold in real time. As much as I wanted, I could not turn off the news.
I asked myself hundreds of questions.
But one recurring thought was “where are the police? where’s the national guard? These people literally have our capitol under siege.”
I know I’m not the only one who thought back to the protests in the wake of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor.
If we should find the opportunity in every situation … what was the opportunity here?
Maybe people who had told themselves Trump’s rhetoric wasn’t really that bad could finally see just how bad it is.
Maybe people finally saw systemic racism, or a lack thereof for this mob, in action.
It made me think of personal moments where things seemed dark and I wondered if sometimes the opportunity doesn’t fully show itself until afterwards. It was there, maybe we unknowingly followed it, but we didn’t realize it.
So I’m asking you, readers, how do you find the opportunity in moments that seem to have nothing but darkness to offer?
Because this was on the mind of many, I linked the RDP word of the day, mob.
Where were you
When I couldn’t stand
With your impetuous knocking
On the windows of my mind
A killer
In the shadows
Driving me
It was an impetuous knock on the old wooden door.
It was Margot’s corked shoes tapping.
Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap.
It was the shrill cries of children that weren’t mine.
It was the old tile with its yellow triangles inside blue circles
And the slow boiling blood stripping it clean.
Two quick stream of consciousness type things for the RDP prompt of the day.
Also, check out Pint Sized Lit
“It’s …”
“The ubiquitous silence maybe?”
“Is that why we’re whispering?”
“I guess …”
Trees stretched to the sky, blocking out all but scattered patches of fading sunlight. An absolute stillness settled over the forest cloaking it in a deep harrowing silence. Dina swallowed her breath, scared to draw the forests stoic attention towards the duo. Riza’s skin prickled against the percieved threat of quiet.
“Where are the birds?”
FOWC: Ubiquitous
Visit Pint Sized Lit
By: Linda M. Crate we’re just ghostsonce we knew each othernow we just wisheach other a happy birthdayon facebook,and i used to mournthe loss of everything we had;used to talk for hourschildhood youth twined us tightas the golden rods dancingin the field—childhood innocence and growing pains,and everything between;you were always so strongand so bravei admired […]
We Were More Than Ghosts —
By: Linda M. Crate “you’re not as pureas the driven white snow.” didn’t realizethat being humanwas a purity test,yes,i am far from perfect; but at least i admitmy mistakes and flaws— you were a devilwho insisted he were an angel,trying to inhibit my flightbecause you were jealousof my wings. Linda M. Crate’s works have been published in […]
Jealous of My Wings —
