If I play my cards right, it’s possible for me, just by being myself, to be called a snowflake libtard, a white feminist, an apologist, a racist, a whatever-disgusting-slur the alt-right/Nazis cook up for anyone who doesn’t agree with their drooling rhetoric, a baby killer, a gun humper, a feminist whore, an old lady, a dumb blonde, a hypocrite, a God-hater, a redneck, a fat bitch, irrelevant, too conservative, too liberal, a hippie, a fence rider, obnoxious, too quiet, smug….and if I complain, I’m fragile.

I call myself a misanthrope, and it’s the only one of those that is true nearly 100% of the time.

That said, I support the unequivocal equal rights of any human to be a steaming pile of poop, to marry or not marry any other consenting steaming pile of poop, to have adequate healthcare to maintain their health and their steaming pile of poop families, and I believe everyone should have the right to control how much family they have. I support their right to vote other steaming piles of poop into and out of office. To run their mouth on social media. To be prosecuted if they threaten or attack other steaming piles of poop. To be paid the same as other steaming piles of poop who do the same job at the same level of performance. To dress however they want, go and work wherever they want and not be raped or harassed by another steaming pile of poop. To practice whatever religion they would like to, with or without other steaming piles of poop, so long as they don’t fire bomb or attempt to eliminate other steaming piles of poop who don’t believe as they do. I agree that our entire society is built on the supremacy of certain varieties of poop over others – and I believe it’s not right, and I believe it’s a long road to fix but we have to do it before we can call ourselves free. I support the legalization of marijuana so that screaming piles of poop who need it for medical reasons have access, and those who use it recreationally might use it to chill the fuck out and/or get some sleep and wake up a little less of a steaming pile of poop. I support the right of so-inclined steaming piles of poop to purchase a firearm, and to lose that right once they commit a felony or become an expressed danger to themselves or other steaming piles of poop.

Wow, that was really terrible. That may be a new low for me. It’s just that every other word I chose before poop was super offensive.

Did you notice I accidentally said “screaming” back there? I’m leaving it. I’ve oversimplified that personal credo a bit. You can only use the word poop so many times before it becomes ridiculous. I watched an evangelical commenter on facebook call feminist women “poop stains” who will “beg our Lord to be spared from the lake of fire” and he sound really, really, stupid. I probably did too.

I promised free writes and then, almost compulsively, delivered posts I’d already written because I didn’t like what came out in free writes. It felt like opening the doors and windows when I’m in my house by myself, scratching myself and scrolling my newsfeed while drinking coffee and hurling insults at cyberpeople. No one needs to hear that.

This is me when I see someone has commented on one of my political facebook posts. Before I’ve even read it. Even when it’s someone I know and like.

Or, maybe this:

Because I really don’t like to hurt people. It’s just that I agonize over them. I think about every stupid word I write whether I swore too much or not enough, whether there is a definition of that word that makes it the wrong choice, whether I considered all angles and possibilities- and then someone comes along and says “Nope.” It makes me a little irrational.

I’ve even filtered out the people on my newsfeed that I know are just there for the cat pictures.

Which I think is super thoughtful.

When will I have gotten all the angry garbage that is clogging up my writing brain out of the way?

I feel like I have to speak up on politics. If I do, then I’m too political – if I don’t, I’m clearly not engaged. If I speak too much on one issue but not another it’s not enough. Sometimes I just want to be creative. Other people do it. And they aren’t even monsters. We are on the same side. And they are producing thoughtful, creative, sometimes lyrically beautiful work.

Conversely, I call people “poop.” Among other things.

And. AND. I actually know that any rational person isn’t paying that much attention to what I say.

So it’s just that this climate, and maybe the internet, is a nightmare for people like me. It took me three years to get this paralyzed by it. Do you suppose I can undo it in 30 days?