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I’m tired and there’s so much to do and I wish I could do more.

Sometimes when I sit down and put my fingers on my keyboard, it feels like I’m putting my fingers on a piano. When I begin to type I begin to play. Instead of making music, I’m making pictures in your mind.

Those are the good days.

On the bad days, I’m filled with self doubt. I’m stuck scrolling through comments that are designed to provoke or deflect or break me. I end up answering dozens of emails and aligning schedules.

Aligning schedules is hard for me. There are so many steps involved. You meet somebody. You pick a day. You try to remember the time zone. You have to explain how to use your preferred platform for a livestream.

There are so many things out there that take us away from writing.

I’d rather be writing. But I’m stuck fighting fascism these days. I’m stuck beating back the armies of people who claim that my wife and children are sub-human. They want to take their rights away. They want to take away their rights and the rights of so many others. We have to fight, fight, fight.

And rest.

On Friday, I had an interview with a tremendous candidate in Connecticut. Her name is Ruth Fortune. She’s fantastic. I feel like I let her down. I did my best, but I was exhausted. It’s been a long week. I’m spreading myself too thin.

After that, I jumped on the The Daily Whatever Show for their one year anniversary. I’d written them a poem. It was lovely and fun and wonderful. But I think I accidentally deleted one of the streaming keys they sent me, so I wasn’t able to accept the request they’d sent.

It was good, but it wasn’t perfect.

That’s every day. More and more it feels like I’m getting further and further away from perfect instead of closer.

For next week, I tried to schedule an interview with a gubernatorial candidate, but I just couldn’t do it. Sitting here now, I can’t even tell you why I couldn’t do it. It was like one of those days when you try to get out of bed and find yourself falling under the covers instead.

I keep telling my readers that we’re at war. Think of it like my work is normally a factory that makes clothing for babies, but I’ve been called to help the war effort. For the time being I’m making uniforms.

I promise you that soon, soon, soon I’ll go back to making baby clothes.

I’ll make cute little jumpers of yellow and blue and pink and green. They’ll have strawberries and bananas printed on them.

I want that. I want that more than anything. But right now, I have to make uniforms. I know it’s important.

But still, I feel like I’m letting all the babies down.

There are hundreds of great candidates running for office. The legacy media is ignoring them all. Our celebrity journalists are chasing the oligarch distractions.

Can’t you see that it’s all lies? The Epstein files, the war, the corruption, all of it is meant to distract you from your purpose.

Our power is in the primaries.

The primaries are where we the people can pressure our representatives to serve us better. But the Democrats know this, and they’ve conditioned the people to not pay attention.

People are talking about the midterms. They’re talking about the 2028 presidency. Everybody forgets that AOC beat one of the highest ranking do-nothing Democrats on a shoestring budget.

That should be the story of our age. That’s Paul Bunyan and John Henry and the Little Engine that Could all rolled up into one. It’s a song that should lift our spirits and inspire us to wave the banner of victory.

But we’ve all been lulled into complacency.

People think there’s nothing they can do.

They don’t realize that we can all do so much more. We can all have so much more.

I wish I had more energy. There are so many voices I want to platform. I want to help people to rise. I want to climb up a level, and then push more ladders down so that others can come up and join me. I want to build a stairway out of stone so that it’s easier for those that come after. Then I want to bring the higher levels down, or lift everyone up.

There’s no climbing and then pulling up the ladders from behind. That’s the coward's way. That’s the oppressors way. That’s the way of everyone who is in power today.

Together we must rise. I want to bring everyone up to where I am.

Everyone.

Then I want us all together to go higher.

But I’m tired. I don’t have food to feed every starving child, I don’t have the patience to educate every ignorant man, I don’t have the knowledge to heal all the wounds I encounter.

No matter how many people you save, you only remember the ones you let down.

Today, I took my rest. I took the family out to breakfast. We had an art day. We watched a movie. We grilled outside. We played volleyball in the park. I even took a nap.

I tried not to think of all the things that didn’t go as smoothly as they could have last week. I tried to forget the people I had to inconvenience with rescheduling, or people whose schedules I couldn’t accommodate.

I’m sorry too for flooding all your inboxes. I’m sure I’m driving readers away.

But we’re fighting fascism. This is a challenge we have to meet collectively.

Last week, Nick Paro, Will Fullwood, Eric Lullove, Evan Fields and The Daily Whatever Show said they’d help me do more interviews. I’ve already received help from SugarRhi~, Natasha K., Melissa Corrigan, she/her, Frederic Poag, Anthony Christian, A. Eevie Bateman, Margaret Williams, MS, ACC, Ben Ulansey… are there more? There might be more.

My goodness, that’s already so many. What’s it been? Two weeks? Three?

My constant sate of mind is that I feel like I’m letting everyone down. I’m not asking for recognition. I want help. I want to get this ship turned around.

I’m glad I listed all those names. So many people are helping already. We’re talking about reeducating and reconditioning. The mass of our population is still fixated on the distractions. They’re listening to publications that are fixated on click rates and that don’t even try to educate.

It’s the primaries my friends. Our power is in the primaries. Our salvation lies in the negative space they try to force us not to explore. They spin us around with distractions so that we never find the door.

I’ve got my fingers on the handle but I’m not going through without all of you. There’s light on the other side. There’s a park with a dog in his prime. There’s ice cream and green grass and sunshine.

Every second somebody wastes on hysterical comment thread rage, a moment of potential euphoria dies. When we’re all out of this, then we can all celebrate.

Until then, I feel like I’m letting everyone down.

Let’s reject the distractions.

Together we rise.

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