Dear Universe: Fuck You

A love letter

Photo by Vinicius "amnx" Amano on Unsplash

I missed a doctor's appointment today. It's not the first one lately, although unlike the two others that I purposely flaked on out of sheer unvarnished apathy and depression, I missed this one because I had a text exchange with a loved one that really threw me for a loop. Why? Well, hope fucking springs eternal, I guess, and I reached out to my semi estranged loved one for the first time in a while and first, I dropped a few introductory nuggets of information about what's going on in Washington DC these days. A few links to some pertinent articles about the complete fuckery and destruction of our entire democracy. You know, casual, light-hearted shit like that. More just to gauge the reaction than anything.

See, politically engaged or not, I don't think there's any way that any nominally aware person can still have any plausible deniability as to what is happening. I mean, it's been one mean motherfucker of a first few weeks, and what's already happened can't possibly slip under the radar that thoroughly, can it? Even with the media doing a shit job at literally their only fucking job, the small amount that those cowardly corporate fucks allow to be known should be enough to be setting the goddamned alarm bells off. Right? Right???

I dared to dream. I dared to hope against all evidence to the contrary thus far that maybe my loved one would finally be willing to engage with me on some level of honest discourse. Hah! What an absolute fool I am to keep on hoping for something that, if it hasn't happened yet, will most likely never happen. And still, even now, that stupid soft hearted asshole inside of me who won't fucking shut up still very much wants to believe it might happen someday. Am I lying myself? Yes I'll probably lie to myself about some things until I'm gone. I'm a child of the 80’s. You wouldn't believe the sappy after school special bullshit they pumped us full of in the 80’s. We mainlined the happy ending trope on an endless loop. The good guys always win. Just when it looks the darkest. Blah blah blah. We still want to believe in fairy tales even though we know they're bullshit. Goonies (oonies oonies)! Phbbbbhbllllt.

So this loved one of mine and I, have had very limited communications lately, a political rift exists. Most everyone knows that story. The conversations we have engaged in have almost exclusively consisted of them repeatedly and unequivocally telling me that what I'm witnessing with my own two eyes isn't really happening. That I should just calm down because I'll do myself more harm by being upset. As if hearing that shit wasn't immediately raising my blood pressure to harmful levels. As if that harm isn't coming on the horizon, bearing down on me right fucking now like a crazy locomotive gone off the rails. This pretending and hoping it turns out for the best bullshit is not an option for me.

I am disabled, a single mother, a mother to a trans son. A mother to a boy who is nearly a man. A man who will be conveniently turning of age right around the time our moron of a president really gets some good old fucking world war action going with whatever country he decides to mob boss on next. Project 2025 promised to bring back the fucking draft too! Ya-fucking-hoo and Yee-fucking-haw! So my sweet, peaceful, tender hearted honor student of a boy might just get the high fucking “honor” of being drafted into whatever ridiculous conflict Donald Trump and his handlers dredge up next to enrich themselves. Themselves, of course, being Donald fucking Trump and the corrupt as fuck shadow government of unelected billionaires, technocrats and theocrats who have recently carved up complete and utter domination and control of our country like it was something you can fucking trade on the goddamn stock market. Shareholders and autocrats one and the same.

I mean, I can see why they would want to draft my son. Rick is battle hardened by simply having made it through nearly twelve years of American education. Sure, he didn't ever serve in an active war zone like so many other blood sacrifices, oops, I mean American schoolchildren bleeding out in classrooms around the country daily. Still, twelve years without catching a bullet makes him a pretty experienced soldier. I mean, veterans who serve are still considered veterans whether they lived or died in combat, right? What he really wants to do is humanitarian work, but that shit’s for pussies and woke SJW’s, amirite? Maybe Rick will die in combat questing for the empire that he has never once desired. Won't I feel so patriotic? Will they send me a folded flag to hold in my arms to soothe me or will the treasury already be drained too dry for them to afford us that luxury anymore? War casualties and wounded veterans are, after all, according to the wisdom of the inimitable Donald Trump, suckers and losers. Surely that money would be better spent on a congressman's Only Fans addiction.

And then there's the son that my family member, who will remain unnamed, refuses to acknowledge or accept his very existence. Now, this son, he faces a different kind of existential threat. He's safe from the draft, but in a perverse injustice, the very thing that protects him from being drafted is a privilege he most assuredly would live without gladly, if he were only able to self identify as what he feels like inside. It doesn't matter to a lot of people in America right now, it seems, but it sure fucking matters to me. Everybody who reads my stuff knows about my Alex. My brilliant, creative and singularly unique trans son whose information is not only on file at the OHSU gender clinic, but who has been openly out and trans at the hateful bigot filled country bumpkin ass middle school he is forced by geography to attend. The middle school where he is educated by the teacher who was the mother of his girlfriend Maddy and who made it a point to tell me very passive aggressively after finding out Alex was trans that “oh yeah, well we all (faculty) wondered if that was the case. You know how people talk” and then subsequently forbade her daughter from being friends with Alex after that exchange. The middle school where he's also taught in another class by a real nasty biddy who always bags on him in front of other kids and whom we spotted at the local Walmart proudly sporting her Trump hat. FUUUUUUUCK. Sorry for yelling. It's just the fact that these interactions, while infuriating but relatively harmless seeming before, now taken in the current context summon up thoughts of shady snitch lines and citizens arrests and bounties and rail cars. If you paid any fucking attention in school, you should easily make that connection, for fucks sake. Hyperbole? Tell that to the women caught in the web of the abortion snitch lines already. Yeah. Fuck those snotty bitch ass teachers with a pitchfork. They aren't worth the dirt off Alex's shoe . My Alex, who with the mere act of existing defiantly right in those bigot’s fat fucking cow-stupid faces, exhibits more bravery than a whole NFL stadium full of armchair rambos can even dream of.

And then, of course, there's me. Sick, disabled, medically fragile with several autoimmune diseases and long covid. In constant chronic pain, on oxygen nearly every hour of the day, and reliant on several prescriptions to live my life in any small semblance of dignity. And now we've disabled the fucking CDC and they're gonna stick an absolute wackadoo fucking smack shooting whale carving anti vaccine, nutjob with a propensity for blending up live animals and carving up dead animals in as the head honcho in charge of our department of HEALTH????? DEAR UNIVERSE, FUCK YOU!!! Sorry for yelling. Again. Also, my income? ALL OF IT comes from social security. If that's gone, poof, I'm probably not far behind. You see why I missed my appointment??? Because this, what you're reading, this is my fucking stream of consciousness right now. This impotent fucking rage that someone who has always and still professes to LOVE me can also be just peachy with all of this! This overwhelming gaslighting campaign is taking it's toll on me. It's all I have pounding between my fucking ears. Throbbing like a heartbeat, pumping hot venom in my veins. This ugly angry vengeful rageful need to either smite or self immolate. I can't figure out which one yet. After hearing all of this I ask you, my fellow Americans, are we really going to stand by and let them get away with this? Spoiler alert: the only acceptable answer is Fuck No.

Thank you for reading. Normally here I would put some loving and light-hearted banter but I am so fucking torn up right now, I just don't fucking know. All I know is that I needed to get this poison right the fuck out of me somehow because oh my God, my dear readers, I was literally disembodied with rage to the point where I was worried. As always, light-hearted banter or not, know that I love each and every one of you guys. Take it easy out there, y'all. If you can go paid, please consider doing so. I'm pretty certain I'll end up relying on Substack more than ever after this article. Lol. Do not have any fucks left to give. Peace ✌🏼

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😻bPNWc