A letter from the ashes
How can you not get political in 2025?
I am disturbed, saddened, and disappointed when I find out someone doesn’t care for what’s happening around us. It feels like the world has always been on fire, but when it’s closer to home; when the flames reach your doorstep, when the smoke fills your lungs, it hits different, as they say.
And today, after watching the vandalizing of the White House by MAGA Republicans, something inside me cracked. Never, NOT IN A BILLION YEARS, would I have imagined the United States of America under siege by its own president. Illegitimate, nonetheless, but the one sitting in power…for now.
(And yes, I dare say illegitimate. After hearing him boast on camera about his buddy Elon rigging the election, and watching journalists too afraid to ask the real questions when evidence has been more than enough. Furthermore, after seeing all the chaos, corruption, and sheer moral decay on display, I’m convinced the rightful winner of the 2024 election was Kamala Harris. And I will die on that hill.)
For the record, this is obviously not a journalistic piece. This is typical me — just a little more unfiltered, raw…saying whatever the f*ck I want because I am fed up.
Anyway… like many, I feel powerless. Helpless. Watching these so-called ICE “agents” snatch innocent people off the streets in broad daylight and sending them to who knows where, no due process or anything — in violation of human rights and in violation of the US Constitution — feels like a stab straight to the gut. Hardworking human beings reduced to nothing. Families torn apart. Asian, Black, and Latino communities deliberately terrorized and children being traumatized. All those civil rights that generations before us bled for, all the progress we thought we made… it’s all being undone, one cruel act at a time.
It’s soul-crushing.
The thought that this kind of deliberate cruelty still exists — not hidden, not subtle, but out in the open for the world to see — feels too heavy to process. I walk with a bruised heart, just tired of existing in this, the cruelest timeline. Hopeless because it feels like no one is coming to save us. I mean, the country is being run by the stupidest people the world has ever known, for god’s sake! It’s both terrifying and infuriating.
Sometimes I look back at history and I can’t believe we’re doing this all over again. How do humans keep failing the same moral test?!
But then I remember that history also has its way of correcting itself. The French Revolution, for example. The execution of King Louis XVI, who betrayed his country much like the man currently parading in office. Hitler taking his own life when the walls finally closed in. Benito Mussolini’s fall…
Morbid? Perhaps. But it gives me a bit of hope. Because if it is true that history repeats itself, it must do so in its entirety…and leave no crumbs.
If history will repeat itself, I hope it’s not just the suffering, but the reckoning too. That’s the only thread of hope left; that the same fire consuming everything now will one day cleanse it. That truth, no matter how long it’s buried, always finds its way back to the surface. So I hope this regime understands that actions have consequences.
Until real actions by Democrats and real patriots are taken, we watch. But still, we push back, we resist, we speak. Silence, in times like these, is complicity — and I refuse to be complicit in the unraveling of the home that gave me a voice.
