I didn’t vote for the first time since I was old enough to vote in 1988. Does that make me part of the problem? If it does, then explain exactly what the problem is. Too many people in the world. Too many opinions. Not enough space. Fuck Twitter. The inmates have fooled themselves into a hostile takeover of the asylum. What frightens me most is that I’ll actually, with whatever intervention of fate becomes me, live another twenty years. The hostility I have held tightly for 48 years has become just a snide apathy. Unlike all the overpaid reality whore pea brains trolling twitter today I never even thought of moving to Canada or Mexico or anywhere outside the country other than London. When I’ve traveled outside the U.S. I’ve always been glad to come back. I learned a while ago that I don’t have to approve of something to accept it. Being an adult means that with each passing second of lost youth I realize with extreme cognizance that I should take less and less and less of life seriously. Because it’s all bullshit. It’s all money and sex and opinions and bills. The sadness and disbelief that is spread across social media (even the mutherfucking New York Times!) like maneur makes me no more or less inclined to give a fuck. What walks and what talks? Nothing changes other than the apps on my iPhone. No one has the balls to start of revolution anyway. What if we all just didn’t pay our taxes anymore? Is the IRS equipped to put us all in jail? What if we all marched down 5th Avenue and chanted about being created equal? The penthouse windows would just close out the noise. I’m not a woman and I’m not black or Hispanic so I suppose I have less to be sad about today. All my theories about Trump and Hillary being in on it together from the beginning were surpassed by my genuine underestimation of the power of racism and mysogyny. But then I’m a white guy. I can blend. Yeah I’m gay but I’ve never thought of that as a disadvantage. For the most part I’ve always felt it made me more superior. What’ll change now? Just the general feeling of dispair and antagonism in the twitterverse complaint line. I’ll be at McSorely’s sucking on the cherry of my Shirley Temple and contemplating my next esoteric thought that will go completely unnoticed since I deleted my twitter. Another day older and deeper in doubt. Cheers. Good luck. You’re fired.