So it’s March 2020, the year of the rat; there’s a Coronavirus pandemic, SXSW just announced it’s cancellation, Trump is still President, children are still separated from their families in cages at the borders, women still can’t get elected as President, we’re still fighting for gay rights, women’s rights, abortion rights, rights to vote, animal rights, because no one deserves to be left out; which is why I believe that being left is right. I pun in the political.
By the way, enforcing gun control does not take away anyone’s ‘legal’ right to bear arms. In my opinion, people who need guns, that many guns, probably didn’t grow up with any sense of power in themselves. But a gun doesn’t create power, a gun creates fear; in my opinion.
The last time I sat down and wrote a blog, a column, a hearty journal entry was mid-2013, that was seven years ago. Seven years. The Seven year itch. What the fuck has happened these last seven years? All of the aforementioned above, and yet nothing has changed, except for the ice caps, which really are melting away now. What will the penguins stand on in order to get their food without getting eaten by the seals swimming below for their food?
What is wrong with human beings? Aside from the fact that we shave our body hair and use toilet paper, how are we really different from the seagulls that bicker over tourists’ leftovers, or the dogs that piss to claim their territory, or the skunk that farts to keep its predators at bay. At least animals don’t try to take away each other’s health care.
Seven years. These last seven years, I haven’t written much in this form, because, well; LIFE. Living it, I guess, although I can’t say much is different in my life either. I’m still acting, still doing that career thing, still got the side hustle, same apartment (west side forever) still plant-based, gluten free, yoga-ing, meditation, running, beach days and road trips. My friends are different, some same, but mostly different; better, I think.
And I feel different, my activities may be the same, but my insides are different. Yes, I feel different on the inside. I feel more grown up, calm; even though I’ve still got that side hustle.
To be honest, I love my side hustle, because I love the people who are at my side hustling with me. And that’s the thing, it’s never been about the job, it’s always been about the people.
So, why haven’t I written much in these last seven years, when it was the epitome of times to be writing, to be saying what needed to be said? Because man-white-man is the world fucked up today!
Because deep down I didn’t have faith in humanity to do what needed to be done, even after the things that needed to be said were said and heard. 'Cause that's depressing. And people have been saying it all. The truth is out there in all different shapes and sizes.
These last seven years have shown an influx of celebrated comedians, writers, bloggers, columnists, journalists, all shouting hard, complex, ugly truths from gifs, sound bytes, online ads, documentaries, docuseries, podcasts, magazines, acceptance speeches; and nothing has changed.
Ironically in the digital age of fading print, honest journalism with integrity couldn’t be a more significant necessity in society, as well as a rarity. But I wasn't adding to it. Well, not unless you count my ever so consistent political Facebook posts. Friends who are political, who you trust to be credible, become your credible news source. You listen to their podcasts, check their Facebook walls for the latest in news because filters get formed like that somehow.
But I didn’t speak. I didn’t write, because I knew it wouldn’t matter. Not that it doesn't matter, but because I’ve been down this road. I've seen this freak parade of humanity’s worst and I’ve seen how it ends, and the truth is, it doesn’t. People just get tired. People stop watching. But the freak parade of humanity’s corruption and destruction doesn’t stop marching.
I didn’t, and maybe still don’t, have faith in humanity to do the right thing, to cut the shit, to let the cats out of the bag, the skeletons out of the closet. Because after all, look!
Trump is President, corporations still rule Congress, billionaires are still buying their own get out of jail free cards, and the middle and working class are paying for it all, and so are the animals and our oceans and this glorious planet that we are so lucky to have been born human on, and we forget that all the time.
Except for maybe me and my friends, and the special others’ and their friends that are like-minded. So, like (yes, I said like) 20% of the planet? Maybe...lives in a state of gratitude and in the moment. But the rest, is why I stopped writing.
It is dismally perplexing and depressing how many people on this planet in 2020, with as many advancements as human beings have made in technology and as many comforts as we have within the natural modern world, how many people are still running on EGO, GREED, and PRIDE. The number one thing human beings care about the most? Looking good. The pee tape is definitely real.
What will it take?
Netflix, Amazon, Hulu is thick with the dissected brutal truths of humanity all over the place and nothing is changing. It’s almost as if people think talking about change, and watching a documentary about it, is the same as doing it. How hard is it really to pick up your own trash at the park? Or at the beach? We can’t even change that habit about our own species.
And maybe that’s what has prompted me to start writing now, to say what I have to say, because clearly, we need another voice to tip the scales. Rush Limbaugh has lung cancer, which makes him a perfect candidate for COVID-19; but is that enough?
Listen, this is a blog, this is where we get to explore those kind of feelings and not complicate our thoughts with morals, because they’re only thoughts okay? I chase flies out of my apartment.
I ran into an old friend today at Cafe Gratitude, so LA of me, it’s one of my fave hangouts now, and she said, “You’re such a good writer Ann, you need to start writing again, people need to hear your voice.”
And so, here you go, it’s the year of the rat and my friend (who is a rat in the Chinese zodiac sign) reminded me, of one of the things I used to love to do and frankly, had a readership of over 100,000 at the time, daily.
Why did I stop again? Oh yeah, cause I didn’t have faith in humanity to actually give a fuck and ACT off of the wisdom and guidance thousands are word vomiting everyday, so I didn’t bother.
So…it’s March 2020, and I’m somewhere in Los Angeles. I always thought at this point in my life, I would sell all my shit and live out of a bag and backpack across the world. My mother’s response to that, “So you’re going to be a bum?!”
No, I’m just going to blog, it seems online life is going to be around forever. And, it's sustainable and at least I feel a little bit better now.