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I’ve sat down too many times to write a blog post recently. One was about politics, of course. Another was about the overdose epidemic that’s plaguing our country, or more so about the children that it affects. But, every time I get it going, I freeze up. My mind goes blank and the words become jumbled. My anxiety and self-doubt kick in after that, of course. Then comes the hour of mindlessly scanning Twitter or looking at a North Korean website featuring pictures of a renovated zoo that I’m sure no one will be allowed to use.

I’ve been thinking about it all day. Why can’t I get the words out? I used to churn out a political screed maybe once or twice a week in the past. I used to be so vocal and passionate about it. I had opinions that I thought should be shared. I was ready and willing to fight about my ideas, much to the displeasure of my wife. I used to …

Yeah, I used to.

Things have changed since then, though. This whole Trump “thing” has me feeling drained. Where, in the past, there may have been some common ground between liberals and conservatives, now there is none. Most of the people I’ve encountered who support him are almost unbearable. He’s ushered in a new brand of acceptable ignorance. Just eight years ago, conservative tough talk came in the form of a war hero with a respectable background who I would have been okay with if had he won. Now? Nothing but bullshit and racism disguised as facts covered in wisdom. What I’m saying is that it’s hard to combat a Trump supporter when all you have is facts and all they deal in is fantasy.

Trust me, I’ve tried.

My main goal in writing, ranting, or tweeting about politics is to sway minds. But anymore it’s become more worthless than ever. No one on the Trump side cares about what I say, unless it is to call me a “cuck” or some variation of a schoolyard insult that they learned from their proud supreme leader.

Deplorables, indeed.

I now realize what the problem is. I keep trying to write about things that used to interest me. I just — I just don’t want to do it anymore. I can’t write about it anymore. I don’t have a personal insight into politics like I thought. Most of my opinions seems pretty basic when I think about it. Or maybe they seem that way because I’ve been living with them for so long? It’s hard to tell, really. But, I do know that the constant rage from watching the news or not getting a post done isn’t worth it. The disappointment from my failure hurts my fiction writing, too, which I’ve been wanting to work on full-time. 

Trust me, though, the fiction doesn’t get much stranger these days.

With all that being said, this will be my last post about politics for the time being. I know, I couldn’t have picked a more perfect time to try and shut off the nonsense, right? I will not deny how important this election is. I will be voting for Hillary Clinton this November, even though she wasn’t my first choice. Regardless, I have no doubt that she will do well with the job. Oh, good for me, right? I have opinions. For the time being, though, I’ll keep them off my blog (as for my Twitter, I can’t guarantee anything. I can still fire off a good 140 character quip without much stress or remorse). In the end, it’s only my vote that matters when November comes, not the thousands of ways I can call Donald Trump a parasitic dog turd. 

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