: here’s a declaration of weakness :


I can’t stop the world from changing in ways I don’t like or leaving me in the dust as it marches past.

There, short and to the point, a perfect way to admit you’re powerless. I am, you know, I’m powerless.

See how easy it is? I didn’t waste time or money on elaborate preparations, like buying guns and ammunition; I’m not encased in body armor or that awful camouflage crap; I’m not sweaty and twitchy. I simply admitted to a weakness and now I’m thinking about making coffee.

No one died as a result; no kids were orphaned. Plus, my future hasn’t narrowed to a choice between a coffin and prison. Heck, I could go for a walk, if I wanted to, because I have unlimited options on this summer afternoon.

And that’s how rational human beings are supposed to handle disappointment and failure.

Genuinely exceptional men (and women) are strong-minded folks who think for themselves. They build successful lives and maintain personal relationships all on their own. They don’t demand a playing field tilted steeply in their favor. They forgo rallies, manifestos, and chanting. Most tellingly, they don’t open fire on unsuspecting churchgoers and back-to-school shoppers with semi-automatic weapons.

That’s the handiwork of the brainwashed and gaslit. So instead of thoughts and prayers and hand-wringing, how about we actually do something this time? Contact senators, tweet congressional representatives, call the NRA, email, organize a protest, march on your state capital, get up and make some noise, dammit. If nothing else, you can at least refuse to be scared.

copyright © 2019 the whirly girl 

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