“It should be a crime to love without passion.”

“Honey, that’s not love, it’s loneliness.”

Words are powerful. They cut through air sharper than any knife, making invisible impact while leaving a trace, a pathway to where they originated. They can destroy and push one down. They bully and threaten. They are also the cause of assumptions. Writing has always been an intimate form of expression. Some people hide behind their words, creating an alternate persona. Others embellish, building themselves up. Many more find the truth, strength, relief, and hope they need. Allowing one to read these written words specifically strung together in a precise way can be intimate. Giving one access to your innermost thoughts is intimate. Trusting one not to judge or harass you based on these choice words is intimate. Words build relationships, bind vows, and create promises. A single action can destroy the hope that words generate. As powerful as words are, they are also more fragile than glass. I created my last blog, an assignment for a journalism class I took back in college, with this intimacy in mind. Sharing my words, putting them out there for an audience, was scary…scary intimate. Unfortunately, these days, people’s minds live in the gutter and I have been forced to move on from tiffanyjoy69.blogspot.com & here now lies my future love with words.

The world is a habitat for tragedy. It can be cruel & break us down; the suffering surrounds us. The talented have the ability to hide behind laughter, gifting those around them with a smile when all they know, all they feel is loneliness. Asking for help has become a weakness because society portrays it as such, an emotion that depicts failure. In a new age of false feminism (& even partly a homophobic reaction to LGBT pride or bullying), emotions are shoved aside in fear of being seen as too sensitive, too mushy, too soft, & worst of all, too girly; when asking for help equals giving up one’s independence.

Its all a damn shame, how moving forward in this world has turned us into robots. Never have I met so many bad drivers on the road. Few people hold the door open for strangers these days. Students are seen as part of a mass rather than treated as individuals. Cell phones have become people’s lifelines, & not in a good way. Cops are faulted & chastised by the public for what one cop or one precinct may have made a poor decision on. Don’t even get me started on the rudeness servers & bartenders deal with.

There is a growing disappointment I have when it comes to the greater population & humanity.

There was a video that circulated the media a couple months or so ago where a guy was walking down a busy street with a loaded rifle & taped the resulting episode with the cops. Apparently, he had great cinematography skills because his intention was widely accepted by viewers. The comments it received cursed the three deputies at the scene who made the guy unload his gun & punished them for protecting the public’s safety. He wasn’t in the country to hunt and the parking lot/road where it took place did not have a shooting range or Cabela’s. If I were a citizen who happened on the scene, I would have been terrified of the guy & turned to walk in the opposite direction. Hell, I might have called the cops myself. Simply because one wants to use his right to bear arms does not mean that he should abuse it. When these laws are blown out of proportion, its no wonder why they have become such a huge debate for society.

I’m becoming more & more convinced that people want to create issues for the sake of argument & entertainment—or rather, to gain the most likes on YouTube. I’m disgusted by it. I’m not saying I agree with every decision this country has made or even a lot of them, but I’m not going to provoke a situation just to stir up trouble and fuel a fire. & I’ll be damned if its going to be for some media recognition & one million likes.

Recently, in GR there was a 9-year-old boy who was stabbed to death by a 12-year-old. In another city, a guy had put razor blades all around a playground so kids would cut themselves playing on the monkey bars or climbing a jungle gym. When T went to WISD for schooling, he would be left alone long enough for us to find pompom strings in his diaper and paint in his nose, ears, & eyes. Who knows how much he digested.

“Fine” has become a word indisputably incorrectly defined by Webster’s Dictionary. It has become a code word for help & “I’m not ok” yet people either fail to register its meaning or choose to not care about its undertones. With all the grief-stricken Robin Williams fans circulating his greatness on the web, there was one post that stuck out to me. Andrea Gibson made a vow: “I want to never ever again answer ‘fine’ when someone asks me how I am. I am officially boycotting the word ‘fine.’ Fuck ‘fine.’ What a hoax that word is.” She undoubtedly—and unintentionally, I’m guessing—nailed society’s selfish demeanor when it comes to the reactions of another’s pain. If society is going to choose to play dumb then individuals must choose to be courageous; part of that is admitting our emotions to others and ourselves.

Of course, then lies the problem of those people just whining because of an unhealthy need for attention. Thanks for ruining it for the battling few who do need help but never receive it.

I could rant endlessly about what seems to be going wrong with society & the world around me, but honestly I’m trying to be a more optimistic person…or at least not a pessimistic bitch.

Still, there is no wonder why I am scared to bring my daughter into this world. Everyday I feel more excited to meet her but half those days my heart tugs on the idea that I am scared for her to come out of this womb, where I know I can keep her safe. I’m not sure I’m ready for her to witness the cruelty, deal with heartbreak, & become a part of this society.

& I really don’t want “fine” to become part of her vocabulary, but if it does I won’t be consulting Webster for the meaning of the word.

(DISCLAIMER: This was first published to my former blog tiffanyjoy69.blogspot.com two weeks before I gave birth to my daughter. It was my last entry for that blog site.)