Writing About Our Generation

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Still Worried

The days are dwindling down, but not the worries. In fact, they seem to be mounting as we get closer and closer to election day.

Maybe it’s because the closer we get the more unreal it seems that he could actually win. Haven’t people, enough people, seen enough, heard enough?
Don’t they know what happened at the New York rally in Madison Square Garden? Don’t they care? If there are still undecided voters now, what at this point could possibly help them decide? Why haven’t they decided, why haven’t they made the only reasonable decision?
People are angry, some people. And I get that. Eggs cost too much. And some people are misogynists and some people are racists and some people just want to tear the whole thing down.
But how come there seems to be so many of them? Aren’t we the majority, the vast majority?
The fear, the worry,  is that we are not. And that the racists, the misogynists, the angry and the aggrieved will carry the day.


I’m here in Greece now, 6000 miles away, and in my right hand I’m rolling around, again and again, my blue agate Greek worry beads. Because I am indeed still worried.