
Last night a friend visiting from Louisiana got pretty verbose in his praise of me. Not just for my music but for my perseverance as it comes to community and building musical circles and he seemed pretty disheartened when I revealed unto him that I’m burning out. I feel like I’m betraying people when I’m down. Like I’m supporting too many others.
I let the reels play on my Instagram feed to remind myself what I’m being fed. What’s supporting me? Lots of ads for getting hard and staying hard. Lots of ads for gummies to help me with anxiety and depression. Lots of ads for mood lights and DJ gear. All interspersed with friends’ posts about fascism and fear.
I can look for any and all of the above whenever I want. I miss a feed filled with lizards and frogs and beautiful snowscapes. But that’s not what the algorithm wants me to have right now.
I’m listening to Mike Bragg’s performance from March 9th. I’m that far behind.

I skipped around the audio a bunch to find his two songs. Last night’s open mic in Takoma Park was filled with rage and sadness. One of the first USAID employees cut loose singing his heart out. Songs about ignorance and rising seas and violence and hate. I’ve been hosting open mics off and on for almost 17 years and I’ve never heard the pulse of my performers sound like this. We played through the riots in Baltimore next to glass walls in Harbor East as the texts and phone calls came in. We played through Trump’s first presidency. We played through the Pandemic and the invasion of Ukraine and the deaths and the lies surrounding Israel’s endless wars. We’ve played through wildfires and tornadoes. With our virtual open mics we saw people hiding in closets and people playing on porches suddenly going black as storms suddenly ripped their laptops away.
I’ve never heard our voices sound like this.
I’m a tiny little shepherd who doesn’t know how to do anything for my flock other than to let them scream and that absolutely does NOT seem like enough.
Through friends and family I know about the shootings at the CIA before it hits the news. I wonder if it WILL hit the news. I’m listening to other news interviews and there’s a casual mention of “if we have elections again”. This is just brushed off, not drilled into. Trump is clearly simply ignoring court orders as he’s brushed off being told to do anything all his Life.


And all-in-all, if we slip into complete capitalistic fascism at the feet of one narcissistic felon sex-offender, does this affect me? Am I still in a school that they’re going to shut down? Do I have a job that they’ll shutter? Do I have a voice on a radio station that they’ll silence? My Life will be shortened by my cost-of-Living but I don’t want to Live in this anyway. I’m just so sad for my friends who’re dying at this time, never to see even the potential end of this regime.
As above, the internet isn’t escapist. I can’t turn off anything much less everything. I’m too weak to just shut it out. Or maybe that means I’m strong enough? We watch television most nights. My high school self would be horrified. It’s not escapist either. What did office / cubicle culture do to the directors of Netflix and Amazon and Apple+? Show me where corporate culture touched you kids… cause you’ve clearly developed issues.
And then remembering car accidents like they happened to me. Some of them did. Heather and I struggling out of our crushed Saturn so many years ago. Dazed in my Volkswagon, coming to halt in the middle of the intersection. Is Will okay? Bleeding in my Saturn, bass guitar crushed through my amplifier. Skidding in my mom’s Pontiac convinced I’d killed my friends, Coke all over the dash.

Visiting the tree where Maureen died. I’m “friends” on Facebook with the drunk who killed her. Collecting the glass. I was just taken back there forcibly. My mind remembering the stupidity of how beautiful it was but there was still red hair on the bark. I wonder how often James thinks of her, or if you ever get used to the loss of a twin.
I make it sound like there were a lot of car crashes. I guess there were. You grow out of it.