Dear diary. Today I am angry. I bought a mask since my last one got lost, capitalists has invented little boxes you can buy to hold them in and I was reminded of how we capitalize on emergencies and how Sweden, my country, could and did buy three times more than we have citizens while other European countries lack any. I went to see a friend I haven’t seen in a while. Realized how often I tell friends, when I see them, that they should go see someone to talk to- people my age are swamped with negative emotions, traumas from childhood still getting recognized as traumas and stress and anxiety facing a climate change that is yet unsure how it will get dealt with by leading politicians and other influencing voices, such as fossil-fuel industries like oil drilling, flying industries, amongst other. People my age are coping the ways they can, or they are writing discussing articles about it.
So finally on my way home, I met the Rumanian woman who always roams my part of the town, and we talked, she asked me where I had been lately. She explained about the cold in Sweden and having to sleep outside; she wanted help to buy a tent. This was like the last tragedy this day needed to just get sucked down the drains and into the filthy, poisonous ocean I know from pictures, and ever more often can feel the presence of. Just the fact that I know a few people that’s helping this woman, and we are all students on a budget, sometimes pissed on the way money move through the world and into pockets of nifty, opportunity- grabbing white men- the men we see in town, with long posh jackets and the grin of a winner or eyes of a snake, but not so often in the same stores, on the buses, or in any waiting rooms for that matter. It’s that in a reality filled with so much despair, these men flash before our eyes like opportunities, but they come and go, clearly living in a parallelle universe where they are blind to the filth, sadness or misery of others. The thing that makes anger come forward is the KNOWING that these people have the power to better so many issues. If they take parts of their incomes to give to people in need, I know that part is going to be so much bigger than the one I can give. And it just makes me tired, and angry, to hear people say these things, over and over, that power (and money) is uneven distributed, that power stays in some places for too long, even generations, and to hear the echo from the politicians go back, yes, we need to do anything about this, but nothing never really changes.
I myself have started to polarize society in my own head: the poor and the taxpayers contra the rich white men, and before any of the latter does anything to prove against it, I will continue to view it as a battle field where they are the orcs (or at best, circling the fields to get entertained by the wars and dispair), and the money is Sauron.
“Yes, I’m white too, but you are Trump white, I am Eminem white” — Someone on the Internet
