Merry Christmas from the Afterlife
I can see them when I sneak out from the basement, walk to the front of the house and peek into the windows like a pervert, but I cannot participate in their life. I can hear them occasionally talking about me, but the longer I’m down here, the less I come up in conversation. In another few days, I expect to hear the voice of a man telling Katie he’ll love Harry like he was his own just before he moves his shit into my house.
Anxiety is the thing that’s ripped our country apart. It has divided us, caused us to fear and hate those who think and live differently than us, and even caused us to hate those who only slightly disagree with us. It has led to panic and overreaction. And I worry that American Anxiety is only going to exacerbate the social and political divide in this country to the point that there is no coming back.