2 Minutes. Go!

I'm just taking care of business. I've got the patent, and I won't stand idly by and watch you make the same mistakes over and over. Have you been taking your B vitamins? Have you been doing your sun salutations? Have you taken a moment today to bond with your gratitude today?

There are some things that Apple Cider Vinegar won't fix, and you don't want them. It's about your chakras. It's magnetic. Your mood is controlled by the moon. Your menstrual cycles are communion. Blood of my blood. 

Flesh of my flesh.

Open a vein and let your life force flow into their waiting mouths. They are thirsty. Thirsting. They are dying to be immortal. They will sacrifice anything. Compromise is their poison.

This is capitalism. Like it or not, this is the only way we can be free. The billionaires are looking out for everybody. Just not monetarily. They're looking after a future us that doesn't exist and probably never will. 

Check your copyright. Make sure everything is on the up and up. Throw some raw meat to the lawyers and enjoy your American Dream. Bitter like coffee. 

No cream.

2 Minutes. Go!

It's OK, baby, I'm just a little bit slow. A little bit tired. I've been traveling for lifetimes, and my sense of comportment deported back near the wreck of the first MUSKROCKET. This was before the chlorine clouds thinned the herd out. Before the ocean turned to salt wash. Before the birds stopped flying and started living in holes.

I know you had a long day, honey. I did, too. My body is damn near shook apart trying to keep up with the augments. This new titanium and NUflesh exoskeleton will be the death of me. 

Baby, relax. We aren't here to talk about genitals. Here, plug in. You know you'll feel better after you're plugged in. There's too much static in your head because you're trying to go against the system, the way. You're taking their happyfeel and shoving it right back in their faces. They won't like it. 

I won't be here when they come. When they bring the erasers and the reProgs. I'll be halfway to Mars, baby. You won't stand a chance. 

Now, just relax. It's time to feel good. 

You like feeling good, don't you?

Good.

2 Minutes. Go!

I'm torn between feelings of love and feelings of anger. The anger is for a man, like many men, who couldn't control himself. The love is for the woman who was betrayed. Bruises hurt, but some wounds last forever. I know this. I have seen this. I have damn near lived this. The bruises you see are just the tip of the iceberg.

My Aunt Linda was a stronger woman than her time was willing to accept. She was an RN, a supporter of her whole community. She was the one people called when they needed someone. She was also a woman who suffered violence at home when she first tried to make a life for herself. 

It's hard to understand how a strong woman could "let herself" (dangerous words, these) be abused. My Aunt would have been the first person to rescue a friend in her situation. It was harder for her to rescue herself for the very same reason everyone loved her. She was so full of compassion that she didn't give up on people. She gave people second and third chances. Maybe some women would have left the first time, but I can see my Aunt excusing it once, trying to fix it for a while, hating that it happened with all her heart, before finally coming to the realization that she had been duped. 

It might have taken a notch out of her strength for a time, but she only got stronger in the end, and it never made her mean. She raised her abuser's kid with love and understanding. She didn't even talk him down.

The best, most compassionate people in the world are loved and hated, worshipped and betrayed. Those of us (not me!) that love the most purely will also have to write off the biggest transgressions. It is not fair. Like I said, though, not me. Hit me once, and we're done. I've been that way my whole life. 

I'm also not beloved by the whole community. I'm no martyr, and no one says my name when asked to name the most generous person they know, the most loving. I'm alright, but I'm too cynical and mad to have the kind of open heart that you need to love the hard and ugly people. 

So, I sit here, torn between anger and love. Should I be seeking violent retribution? Should I be softly in the background? Should I let the love win? Or the anger? Seeing as how anger is what brought us to this point, I think I will choose love. For me, this does not mean forgiveness. And that's fucked up. But I can love someone while hating the person who hurt them. I've been doing it my whole life.

So, that's what I'll do. 

It will have to do.