Fear
Updated November 10 at approximately 8:30 pm.
Currently reading:
James by Percival Everett
The Best American Mystery and Suspense 2023, edited by Lisa Unger and Steph Cha
Beloved by Toni Morrison
Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver by Mary Oliver [ongoing]
Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962–1972 by Alejandra Pizarnik [ongoing]
Books finished this week: 1
★★★★★
Where this book came from: Ordered from Barnes & Noble in the summer of 2022.
Why this book: I don’t think I need to answer this one.
Thoughts: The number one thing this book taught me is that absolutely nothing is original or new, and we need to learn from past experiences to save ourselves from ourselves. Incredibly readable and informative, without feeling like it’s dumbing anything down or getting too repetitive, or like it’s too academic and will go over a reader’s head. I learned so much from this book, not just about what’s going on in our own country, but about some of the many civil wars that have happened around the world. I now have at least a rudimentary understanding of conflicts that I feel should have been taught and studied at literally any point in my schooling. Not as terrifying of a read as I thought, too, so I recommend anyone feeling afraid or unsure what to do next gives this a read to educate themselves.
Library updates:
Tuesday: I am starting the draft of this blog post at approximately 6:30 pm on Tuesday evening. It’s Election Day, and I thought I was doing okay all day, but I think I was just distracted by work. Now that it’s just me, alone with my thoughts and the fixings for manhattans, the stress and fear are setting in. I’ll of course update this with more information as the week continues, and we may not even have a winner by the time this goes live on Sunday. But I wanted to take a moment to record this moment and let out some of the dread, before I try (and inevitably fail) to distract myself with some writing and homework.
Wednesday: Fear. Exhaustion. What the fuck do we do now?
There isn’t disbelief in me, exactly, because I always knew this was a possibility. The sting isn’t quite as bad as 2016, when I was sitting in San Antonio, Texas, on a trip with friends and we talked excitedly about having our first woman in the Oval Office, because certainly there was no other outcome. But I am afraid again——deeply afraid. For myself, for everyone I love. For anyone who isn’t cis and straight, anyone who isn’t white, anyone who doesn’t have enough money to get by. Anyone with a uterus who doesn’t want children or needs to have an abortion.
I thought to myself at one point early last night, We are so fucked. But I pushed the thought away, because I thought maybe we could do it again. I let myself believe that maybe not everyone and everything is terrible.
Today, I have proof that it is. I have no uplifting words. I just have a stupid fucking book blog and a ton of terror and rage. And I am just so fucking tired of fearing for my life and the lives of everyone I know and people I don’t.
There are men laughing outside my window at 9:15am on the day after Election Day. What the fuck is there to laugh about?
Wednesday, night: People set off fireworks down the street. I usually love fireworks. But seeing as only 62 percent of Queens voted for Harris, I can only assume what they were celebrating. I am disgusted.
All I have are words, until I figure out what actions to take. I still don’t know what to do, so I’m reading. I find solace in books. Reading James for a little while on Election Night made it possible to escape, even with CNN on the TV, muted, in the background. I read the poetry of Mary Oliver and Alejandra Pizarnik earlier this evening, alternating beauty with the stark prose of How Civil Wars Start. Feeding my mind and soul. Staving off terror and trying to break myself from this numb, exhausted stupor.
I have heard so many people chatting, laughing, on the sidewalk outside my apartment today. It does not feel real. I spoke to no one, except a few friends——and my mom——over text, but I haven’t used my voice today. I’ve cried, though. Plenty. Where is the 2016 outrage? The 2020 fight? What will become of us?
Thursday: I have ordered more books. One on tyranny. Two of poetry. The revolution needs education. It also needs art. (Or at least I’m telling myself that.)
Closing thoughts:
From Mary Oliver’s “North Country”:
. . . You listen and you know
you could live a better life than you do, be
softer, kinder. And maybe this year you will
be able to do it.
Total books read from the Moratorium Library: 111
(Total books added to the Moratorium Library: 213)
The book I ordered on Thursday came in, and a novel I supported on Kickstarter finally arrived.
