Do you ever have dreams - that you can remember - that have you in a place/time/this/there/that where you almost know what to think about what seems to be going on, but you are not really sure that you are focused on what it is that is going on?
I do.
The problem is that that has not been a dream; it has been my waking life for ten years.
I know everything trump has done.
I just can't seem to focus on it long enough to accept or believe any of it.
I can't believe that our people and institutions have been so busy on Tick Tock or watching Crazy Mormon Housewives that we have let the Union slip into oblivion.
And that is because that state of affairs is too much like a Margaret Atwood tale, and if it is that, it's a bad Margaret Atwood tale, and she doesn't write bad tales.
So I keep thinking.
It - the tale - Atwood's or otherwise, that I am trapped in is so much more.
It's an Octavia Butler Prediction - she didn't write tales - she predicted and called them novels, predictions always imbedded in beautifully written and utterly beguiling and believable tales of people trapped in post america.
When I think of it this way focus comes to the dreams.
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