Final Thoughts After a Critical Election Year

It’s essentially the end of the year, Los Angeles.

2017 is now on the horizon and I can hardly remember the last time I consulted the keyboard for my thoughts on the matter. I guess I’ve been caught up in my twenties and trying to swerve with the times, but it all seems like an afterthought now, or something else in the distance.

All I see is my bank account and my pictures, and my car and my night classes. And all I see is my time with the Inside Out Writers, or the Plus Me project, or the city of L.A. as viewed through JIMBO TIMES.

Then there are the friends I have, or that I used to have, or who I’m trying to keep even as time and money come between us. And there’s mom, and my brother, and my tío.

But there’s also a new presidency on the horizon, and with it a new generation of backlash, argumentation, and filtering through what’s true. It’s a fascinating time, but it’s also frightening. In a way, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

On the other hand, at times the world and my place in it fills with me with something of furious anger. I feel like I’m at the end of a long road of inequality. I wonder how even with so much inequality around us the American people could still elect a bigot to the White House. But then there’s a legacy of putting hate into this country’s political system. I become so frustrated with the thought of it that I could almost feel the anger burning through my throat and into the depths of my lungs. When it finally subsides, there’s an infinite sadness to wade through. A great anger turns  into a great sadness.

Before I know it, however, I awake past the states of anger and sadness, and find myself somewhere along a horizon with the wind blowing. There, all I’ve got is air to breathe through. Inhaling and exhaling, with a routine or a certain sure path that shuts my eyes at the end of the day. A way towards peace with myself. When I’m there, there’s just enough of everything.

It’s the end of the year, and tonight is one of those nights where there’s just enough. I can live with it. I can live with everything else to come, because I indeed it’s what I’ll have to do.

J.T.

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J.T.

Born and raised in the Los. Los Cuentos. J.T.

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