A mental health post

Woke up from my first COVID nightmare this morning at 6:30 am – I was trying to get on the Seabus and realized that I was alone, and I wasn’t wearing a mask, and Noone Else Was Either. My awakening was unpleasant but at least I was oriented pretty quick.

I want to believe I’ve been able to weather this thing but I haven’t, it’s weathered me. They’re saying now (Kapil Komireddi in Foreign Policy) that the death toll in India may literally be ten times higher than whatever Modi is allowing the press to report. Modi has already done more to destroy India than Trump did to the US, and that’s SAYING something. The media are lapdogs, the supreme court is silent, and Hindutva types are FOAMING at the opportunity to ‘drive the Muslim dogs’ out of their beautiful pure brahmin New India.  So sure, it could be worse in Canada, let’s hope it doesn’t go there, but the world is a dumpster fire right now.

I’m going to let my mental health go there.

For the next week, I’m on vacation. Don’t know where I’m going, besides this house, but I am going to just ignore everything until I feel calm enough to get back on the goddamned Seabus. No writing, no practicing, no moving, no thinking. I’ll update my blog but try to stay off social media.

For my mOm, a historical titles document for her reference.

using the concept of niceness to tyrannize the authentic is one of the folkways of whiteness
It’s always one breath away from calling the cops.
@gindaanis on twitter today
aanikoobijigan is the Ojibwe word for great-grandparent (or ancestor) and the word for great-grandchild. It’s a connective way of thinking, cyclical rather than linear time. And as I step into writing a chapter on restoring human relations that’s an interesting thing to think on