It feels like opening a vein and bleeding-out onto the screen.
Am I making any sense?
Is anyone moved enough, by my writing, to be motivated to attempt to move this country over into a place of more sanity?
Are my words meaningless dribble, or do they touch something real?
Can some faint whisper of the truth, at the heart of things, be heard in the things I write?
Am I helping or hurting the process, by doing what I do?
Am I just preaching to the gallery, or does someone out on the street hear the noise and wonder what's going on inside? Are they drawn to come in and listen? Should they listen?
If I knew that I had really moved one life; If I knew that I had really helped to open one mind; If I knew that I had really helped to bring clarity to one person, perhaps I would feel more justified in doing what I do. Perhaps, I would feel less like a "lonely voice in the wilderness" or an ego, possibly, spouting nonsense. Perhaps, I would feel more like...
But, then again, maybe none of this really matters. We do what we must.
The one most positive, and redemptive, thing that American has given us, is the First Amendment to the Constitution.
The right to think, and speak, and write, and believe as we choose, with whom we choose, is the most sacred right we have. It is a right that goes right to the core of our being. It is a right that recognizes, and supports, our very being.
It is a right that proclaims that no government, or group, or individual has the right to compel us to withdraw and hide in the shadows; in fear and shame; because of who we are, or what we believe, or how we look.
It is a right that proclaims that we can stand up and stand out; and say or write what we think and feel!