Rantings Of A Quixotic Dreamer

I posted essay this on my writer’s profile on Facebook this morning…
This is the most political I’m ever going to get on my page. Sometimes I post things on my other page, things that really mean something to me, but I try and avoid it because I don’t like seeing my post turn into a debate forum, and it inevitably does. This page is a reflection of me as a writer, and I have no political agendas to push. However, I may write essays like this one, for pure writing practice.
My editor once asked me why I liked the word quixotic so much. I told her it described me to a T – hopeful or romantic in a way that is not practical; foolishly impractical especially in the pursuit of of ideals. I have created my world to suit me because I have grown weary of the real one. In my world, bullshit paradigms don’t exist. I am a woman fully capable of doing anything and everything a man can do without any obstacles, men don’t rape because they have respect for women, and racism is an antiquated ideology. In my world, we all love each other.
I realize I can’t always live in my own little world. I have to return to this one to pay my bills, and assimilate myself into the harsh realities of life. I have to watch a little bit of news to stay informed of what is going on in the real world around me. I have to remind my boys that they are not superior to women, and that they are never to rape. I have to nag them to study and be educated because knowledge is power, and being well versed and informed is the only way to be outstanding gentleman and productive members of society. I have a husband to dote on because yeah, despite being a feminist, I see a lot of value in making sure he feels loved and appreciated. I have to take pills because my brain chemistry is so whack that I turn on myself and my rational thoughts, and slip into a cloud of despair and self-loathing so easily. I have to write to expend this negative energy and feel normal again. I have to fight for worthy causes and stick up for the underdogs, because my nature does not allow me to sit by and just let shit go down. I have to listen to my friends and acquaintances, even when their opinions and thought differ from mine, because they feel so strongly about something, then graciously agree to disagree, and try not to judge them for their nonsensical beliefs. I have to remind myself that my opinions are just that – opinions, and that my beliefs are mine alone and not everybody shares them with me. I have to sometimes keep my mouth shut when I want to speak, because it isn’t the time or place to speak my mind, and remind myself that just because I’m remaining silent, doesn’t mean I’m condoning. I have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders because my empathy runs so deep, that even the slightest of tremors becomes a fucking tsunami in my mind. This is what people don’t see.
What do they see? A liberal, agnostic feminazi who wants our government to ban your guns, a laissez-faire parent who lets her entitled white sons do whatever the fuck they want. They see another socialist who wants to tax everyone to shit, enable the lazy, and enlarge our heathen god-forsaken government. They see a confused, white, rich bitch and think I’m stupid or downright mad because I don’t vote republican – I’m a traitor of sorts. I have straight up been told that I am straight up going because of what I believe and how I think. And hey, guess what? I’m perfectly fine with that. It beats spending an eternity with a bunch of hateful hypocritical lunatics. I am not even going to defend myself, or dignify their proclamations with responses. Instead, I smile and wave.
But lets just get one thing straight here – I am the real thing. I am as tolerant as it gets, and I pride myself on it. It is my claim to fame. Don’t even try and place me into a predefined stereotype because I just might surprise the hell out of you. Go ahead and roll your eyes if you see me re-post and article about why All Lives Matter is racist, or a study about how education lowers the amount of abortion performed. I’m giving you a little insight to how I feel about something, something that is a reflection of my ideal world. I’m not asking you for your opinion, and I’m not even trying to inform you, preach, change your opinion, or ask you to come and live in my world. Hell, you wouldn’t be happy living there with a tyrannically tolerant person like myself, and honestly, I don’t want you there fucking up my peaceful paradise.
The sad thing is, peace and love have become such far fetched ideologies. Peace requires work on our part, and so many people aren’t willing to put in the effort because they don’t believe it’s possible. If people believed in peace as much as they believed in their God, this world would be a completely different place. Love, on the other hand is easier. It’s free, and requires so little effort on our part. If people loved one another, peace would naturally fall into place. If we loved each other as much as we love our money and our guns, or as much as we love putting our noses into other people’s business, the human race would be an entirely different species. It’s actually not all that quixotic when you think about it. But hey, I’m just a dreamer, what the fuck do I know anyway?

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