America Already Fucked Me Hard When Donald Trump Became President
So I Fucked Back Before He Did
I didn’t vote. Yeah, I know, I’m part of the reason why you can’t keep the tissue supply in your home in stock, but trust me; my supply ran out a long time ago.
Not voting was my fuck you to a country that fucked me the moment the audacity of Donald Trump became official.
How can it be that the man I discovered in 1998 — while living in New York City as a new transplant — the same asshole who was kicking out an elderly lady from her rent-controlled apartment in mid-Manhattan — because he needed to build another skyscraper to serve as a sibling to the other tainted monuments — was aiming for the presidency of the United States.
I knew he would win.
When he got the nomination — I knew we were fucked. Screwed. Done for. I knew there was no turning back. I was convinced that the White people who must have been under a trance when Obama won — finally woke up — sober and vengeful. Hillary Clinton represented the past and she also carried the reminder of the first Black president — which wasn’t acceptable.
It is time to go back to our roots!
We’ve had eight years of pride and now it’s time to reclaim the shame of our ancestry and stop meddling with the elements that threaten to unite us. It’s time to be torn apart by hate and more hate. It is actually appalling that we allowed ourselves such joy not too long ago.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
The tears of joy, the hugs stifled by laugher, and the dance of victory that seemed to echo from far and away. The unbelievable endowment of citizenship that can’t be fulfilled by just saying the words while swearing on a bible. It’s the acute sense of belonging. The reassurance that the devil’s work is finally over and the angel of mercy is here to stay.
He has left the premises. His guardian will be leaving quite soon.
When he does, the shift in power will be the slap that didn’t have to occur. It will be the image that haunts me until my spirit takes flight. It will be the whipping against my back and the chains jolting my feet into shock.
It will be the fuck you of a lifetime and I will never forgive myself or you for it.
It feels good to fail when there is no turning back. My life right now is in disarray and perhaps, I welcome this tragedy with open arms. I’m not in the mood to celebrate. I want to be fucked hard and I need it to hurt bad.
And it does.
I’m sick with regret and disgust that I didn’t vote. But, I would’ve been even more ill — regardless of the outcome. We lost the moment a rich, racist, sexist, White man threw his hat in the ring — and we gathered round to cheer him on with clicks, tweets and staged commentary.
The traffic is still in motion and there will be plenty from where that came from and I hope we don’t have to sit to shuffle it all around.
It will hurt too much.