What's in a Voice?

Initially, my purpose in writing a blog was to purge the despair growing inside me after the assassination of my naivete in November. I wanted to focus on the facts and help educate others who recently pulled their heads out of the sand of silence. Three articles in, I’m not finding the voice I desperately crave. This post is self-indulgent. Bear with me while I ramble.

A slow burning anger seethes in my blood. It lingers beneath the surface and rears its ugly head at the most inopportune times. My day job is in corporate America. I walk a thin line between the ingrained work ethic I assume came pre-packaged in my DNA and the desire to follow Johnny Paycheck’s immortal lyric, “Take this job and shove it.” I can’t find my way anymore.

How do you marry the fact that you missed your calling, but you’re not sure what the original mission entailed? Since Trump’s election, self-reflection has brought me more questions, fewer answers. Most days I live and breathe politics. I consume it in all forms. I used to be absorbed writing fiction. I have, at least, one novel in me fighting to get out. My passion for completing that goal has been snuffed out. Why bother creating a fantasy world where battles are fought and won with magic when our country is waging war on itself that no number of spells can fix?

I cannot overcome the desire to make a difference, and do something to offset the embarrassment that we put a man like Trump in the White House. His two-facedness knows no bounds. He had ranted against the electoral college before he won. He fumed about Obama playing golf with all the problems facing the U.S., and guess who plays more golf now? Hillary couldn’t be trusted with classified information, but it is okay for him to share with the Russians (allegedly). All the venom spewed in his campaign is now a storm of hypocrisy that no umbrella of lies will be able to keep at bay.

This country has been divided for many years. Trump didn’t divide the country. Trump took that division and manipulated it. He said what some people wanted to hear. He would bring their jobs back. He would get rid of the horrid Obamacare and replace it with something terrific. He would not be a politician. He would bring the change they all wanted. He would build a wall. He would get rid of the Muslims. Oh wait, isn’t he in Saudi Arabia right now? Didn’t he give a speech to Muslim leaders on joining together against terrorism? Do you think, while he stands up in front of the very people he generalized about and condemned during his campaigning, it even enters his head to feel ashamed? Hell, to even feel regret? His tirade on Muslims helped to fuel hatred of a religion and people in some of his more core supporters. The loathing is based purely on ignorance.

On a side note, the special election for the sixth district in Georgia is heating up. Election day is June 20^th. Canvassing, calls, and texts increase exponentially the closer we move to the date. Arguments break out on social media regarding the most ridiculous things: signs repeatedly being stolen off lawns--high school kids caught on camera as the culprits in one neighborhood. Anger surfaces because a campaign texted your cell phone with information. You’re a volunteer! Too many calls when you’ve already told them you’ll vote for the candidate. People are saying they are tired of the overkill on asking for their vote, they are abstaining from casting a ballot. You have got to be kidding me.

What is my voice? Is it the voice of reason? Logic? Can I sift through facts and make sense out of all the chaos? Even if I do, who will listen? I know this post has little rhyme or reason, but I had to get it out. I want facts, but I’m beginning to see most Americans may not care so much. They believe what they want to believe. They have a desire for someone to hear them. That may be more important than following through on empty promises. If it is more important to be heard and acknowledged than to be honest and trustworthy, how does that change the fabric of our nation? It is happening right before our eyes, and I, personally, keep trying to pretend it isn’t the case. Denial has been a dear friend to me for many years. Unfortunately, I think it is time we part ways. I can feel my voice emerging. It is right on the tip of my tongue. I need to reach a little further, and maybe I’ll be able to spit it out. I hope it tastes better than the bitterness consuming me today.