RMiddleton

What if when I posted financial support links a dozen new patrons gave small recurring donations

What if my mother was open to emotional growth

What if my gay godfather, the only adult I felt kinship with, had not died of AIDS before I was out

What if the country I live in was committed to improving the lives of all people

What if I had free healthcare

What if I sold paintings at the last major show I put on

What if a friend or family member broke the facade to have a quiet, caring conversation

What if I knew one stable, serious, caring person in a position to help who wanted to help

What if meaningful jobs were plentiful instead of the exploitative jobs I had

What if I were part of a caring community

To my friends and family: I don't know if you don't get me, or if you're scared, or you just don't get me. Maybe I offend you, or you think I'm dangerous, or you don't get me. I'm sure the truth is that you probably don't think about me very much at all. You have your own considerations. Or maybe you did reach out to me and I didn't acknowledge it. If that happened I can say that I may not have seen it. I block out a lot of incoming communication because spam and corporate dehumanization and deception actually hurts me emotionally. Maybe you're the same way and that's why you don't see me. Or maybe you're barely getting by. Maybe I annoy you. I annoy me. But as I say I figure that you have enough to keep you occupied. Why would anyone take on a problem? I wonder sometimes, do you wonder too, how people end up on the streets? Or fully dissociated? Ever since my 20s I've had recurring periods when I felt disconnected from others to the point that I imagined myself on the streets.

One mystery I contemplate is that it may be possible that others feel close to me and I don't feel close to them. Then again I'm not sure that's possible because I'm the one saying that I'm alone. So if you did think we were close here I am saying that we're not. I think it must be a matter of perspective. In an old song Howard Jones asks: What is love? And does anybody love anybody anyway? That level of questioning resonates with me, and maybe it doesn't resonate with others. I've often felt a conflict between loyalty to ideas & loyalty to people. Maybe others don't feel this conflict. Maybe they do, but few speak of it. Maybe it seems futile to ask so many questions that deconstruct societal bonds.

I watched a recent retrospective on the tv show My So Called Life, a program that might have done me some good if it had come out a decade earlier. The two bits that stuck out to me were the attitudes of the mother of the main character. For one she wanted to know “what type of family” her child's friends came from. My mom spoke like that all the time. And when her child says that she could be the one in the desperate situation that her friend is, the mother responds with angry denial, “that could never happen to you!” There is a strong belief in special status among “my people” (those I come from but feel no connection with). Bad things happen to other people. And maybe those people deserve it! This delusional thinking prevents empathy and it also causes self harm. We all will die. It might not be elegant. We all will need help. A disaster can take everything away from us in an instant. Belief in class privilege prevents planning. We all do better when we all do better. There is no one among us better than any other.

What if we acted according to that truth

What if