As we approach September...
It happens every year. The subterranean grief. The slow-swelling anxiety. And I remember, oh yeah, we all still have PTSD.
Everyone has a personal story about September 11th. And if no one in your family died, you might feel ashamed to want to tell yours...because you are so lucky. No matter what else you lost, no matter how much it hurt, you were spared. You don't even know.
That's how I feel, even though I've told my story many times.
My son hadn't even been born. My husband was my boyfriend. I was at the very beginning of my career. All the things that define my life now were just little seeds. It was so long ago. It doesn't make any sense how long ago it was because I feel like I was just now punched in the gut with all the momentum and poison and noise of it and every breath is still dust and ash. How could it have happened so many years ago and still be so loud?
There's a lot to say about the pain of that day.
And there's a lot to say about the protracted pain of such human tragedy being sucked into the machinery. When I saw the smoke rise across the river, I saw a smokescreen rise for the PNAC, Halliburton, Bush, Cheney, the military industrial complex. The cancerous greed of obscene criminals made a commodity of humanitarian disaster to market greed to the bereaved and traumatized, with the thinnest veil unsuccessfully concealing their brazen insincerity as they wove lie after lie day after day to sell war for profit - that's protracted pain. That machinery exists. That is the stranglehold of the merging of corporation and state.
So many people were murdered. Sons, daughters, mothers, wives, fathers, husbands...and we wrote their names on bombs and murdered more people's children...knowing - most of us knowing - it was on the momentum of a manufactured narrative to profit a handful of people who were already billionaires.
As we approach September, each year I get so mad.
It's about my neighbors. It's about our city. It's about my husband who didn't go to work that day. It's about the people who were lost. But it's also about what was done in their names. It's about injustice.
It's time for justice.
Many people had influence after September 11th. Many people were in position to speak the truth, to actually lead, but were afraid to be painted as unpatriotic. Many people had a vote, but were afraid that a dovish characterization would hinder career trajectory. Many people failed us. Many people chose to feed the machine. Many people are complicit. One of those people wants to be our presidential nominee.
Fewer people understood that the greatest threats to freedom and democracy were already entrenched and eating us from within. Fewer people were brave enough to say so. Fewer people told us and continue to tell us the truth about what we are up against. One of those people also wants to be our presidential nominee.
It is time for justice.
This is only a political revolution because it's necessary. We must topple the balance of power. We must hold people accountable for the immeasurable harm that has been done. We must name them, depose them, and redistribute their blood wealth in pursuit of reparation.
We cannot do that with a candidate who lives at the tit of the machine and chooses to obfuscate to protect her position.
I will do everything I can to advance the candidacy of Bernie Sanders, our representative. I will do everything I can to advance our platform once he is in office. I will keep fighting until the day I die.
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Thanks.
Making calls is awesome.
You have talent my dear...and I'm so glad to see it being put to such good use. 
I too will do everything I can to advance his candidacy. 
