The 2017 solar eclipse.

 

2017 wasn’t the year when my President was a man (or woman) worthy of respect.

It wasn’t the year when nuclear war was the least of my worries.

It wasn’t the year that my country increased its standing in the world.

It wasn’t the year that white supremacists ran and hid in fear.

It wasn’t the year when we realized, as a nation, that we have a sick and deadly fascination with guns, and that they are destroying us in the name of freedom.

It wasn’t the year that we came together and decided that partisanship — both in politics and life — is complete bullshit and worthless.

It wasn’t the year that Evangelicals acknowledged their deep hypocrisy and spiritual corruption.

It wasn’t the year that I felt proud to be an American.

It wasn’t the year that our government told Russia to piss off and quit fucking around in our elections.

It wasn’t the year that women shut up about being harassed and disrespected.

It wasn’t the year that Alabama accepted a sexual predator as their leader in the name of conservatism and Christianity.

It wasn’t the year that I looked around and thought “where has all the love gone?”

It wasn’t the year that I wondered whether my country has gone to shit.

It wasn’t the year that I gave up on anyone, or anything, despite my anger and disappointment.

It wasn’t the year when I told my son that people are inherently selfish and cruel.

And it wasn’t the year when I stopped thinking that every day is better than the last.


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