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I want to swear. Loudly. This will be a rant, and you'll just have to deal with it. First off, I hate social media. I've almost deactivated my Facebook account 20 times. No, not because I don't have time, though there are definitely better things to do with it. No, not because discussion threads make me angry, though often they do. More on that in a moment. No. I hate it because it flashes a big giant billboard at least 3 times a week (metaphorical; stay with me here) that says, "That person still hates you! Look! She's all over Facebok, talking to your friends, but not you! Don't you feel awesome!" Thanks, Zuckerberg. You billionaire &^#!&. I'm blaming you, because I ran out of reasons to blame myself, and blaming others didn't help. Why do I have to be reminded of perhaps the most painful thing that's ever happened to me ALL THE TIME? How is that fair? And seriously, don't call me and ask me about this. I'm doing bad, OK? Bad.
BLOCK ME, for pete's sake. If it was such a negative experience to talk with me, if my short-sighted selfishness was so horribly grievous that you must make me a non-person, then don't do it halfway. I'm not strong enough to see you pretty much every day, knowing that you don't wish to speak to me ever again. Jeff and I were talking about it last night at 2 AM. It hurts every day like the first. I made the most insane statement in the history of humanity that remains true, even so. I said,"It's worse than losing my father." [You lost your dad when you were 9, in a horrible accident. You felt like a bad son, because your parents were divorced, and you thought he'd be there always. How can you say that?--ed.] Because when Dad died that day, he was my FRIEND. I knew that he loved me, that nothing would ever change that. If I had the chance to apologize for all those "bad son" feelings, he'd laugh in my face. And so will God the Father laugh, when the Day comes, by his mercy. Death doesn't break love. Isn't that what the Resurrection means? Really? But this whole thing feels like a death with no resurrection. How should I feel? "Time heals all wounds"? BS. I bet a Buddhist wrote that.
And I don't feel like I have anyone who really knows how I feel. No one to sympathize. Some of you are too close to it. Some of you, frankly, I don't trust. Sorry. I give it to God each day, but it gets no better. I don't know what's going to happen. I'm not sure I can do this.
In other news, "Ayn Rand is a vicious atheist" is now apparently the prime excuse for leftist Christians and other socialistic simpletons to utterly ignore the fact that centrally-planned economies of all varieties FAIL and are completely averse to upholding the dignity of the human person in any way. Capitalism, properly understood, has failed no one. In fact, the opposite is the case. It is true that some expressions of "free-market economics" fail to, by themselves, address all problems related to the dignity of each person, because if one is not able to participate in some way, the market's benefit could be more indirect (and thus, insufficient) in any one case. Also, there may be externalities (in my dilletente knowledge of economics, that means, "unanticipated catastrophe") related to individual action and collective impact (like environmental concerns) that require intervention. But notice that even when you step forward to say, "Markets are good," even alleged Republicans may look at you as though you said you like puppy shakes in the morning? How many economic speeches start with, "I value the free market, BUT..." Why is this? Do you have a better plan? In the most unemotional terms, the fundamental problem that economics is meant to address is scarcity. Socialism, and the Frankenstein monsters--like our own--of economies utterly fail to handle scarcity in any meaningful way. If this weren't bad enough, the consequences of a government established to mete out 'Justice' or 'Equality' in an economic sense often if not always destroy the people they aim to govern!

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Anonymous said…
Just stopping by to say hello.

And that we love you....

-Carol

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