Yesterday, I woke up and social justice warrior’ed my Facebook. I had breakfast with my husband. I wandered in and out onto the back porch, utilizing my medical marijuana, but never settled outside to enjoy nature or inside to putter around; I got lost in my Sims game on the PS4. I played all day. I don’t remember dinner, ordering groceries (though I remember we’re broke now!). I played long after my husband fell asleep, till it finally got so late my body shut me down.
I love being outside on my porch, and had been looking forward to letting my chickens free roam while I mucked out their coop all week; why didn’t I do that? Why did I lose myself and my time with my husband to a video game that I have played for so many years that it’s difficult to remember life before the Sims? I don’t know. What am I avoiding?
Today, I wake up. Social justice my FB. Feel physically gross from being up so late, mentally gross from the mix of game story and my dreams. I have a choice on what to do today, and how to live it. What direction will I go, and in the end does it matter? Are all my jumbled stories and inner questioning much ado about nothing…does it literally not matter in the long run whether I’m out living my life or inside running a computer simulation so they can live theirs? Do ants put this much thought into life? Am I an ant?
Their lives matter, but they didn’t matter to anyone until someone killed them for no reason; before that moment, very few people in the world cared. They were surrounded by people who didn’t give a fuck, every day. Nothing I do in my social justicing will bring them back or give them the lives they should have had. That’s what makes the protesting so hard; they will never come back. It still feels wrong that they be forgotten, that people of color live in fear all the time. Can’t we find stories of people abused, discriminated against and still living? Can we tell their stories? Maybe we could actually see things change? Would anyone alive even be willing to talk about it when the threat of violence is ever present?
Would my life be different if I lived in fear all the time, or would I still be sitting here contemplating being lost in pixels or being lost in sunshine and feathers? Seems safer to be in here playing games with chickens and a PS4 than to be out there. Does my life matter? Am I doing anything?
Maybe I can take a shower and stop thinking.