Troubled

Troubled.  To say how I’ve felt the last few days?  Pick a word.  Troubled comes to mind.  What happened to Ahmaud Arbery made me angry.  Maybe I got a bit complacent.  I have a BLM flag.  I put it up when someone, a black man, sometimes a woman (Sandra Bland, Breonna Taylor) is killed.  Yet this week I’ve hesitated.  I put up the US flag, our flag, and swore to keep it there until our country is no longer under duress, under attack from this virus.  Yet I’m troubled.  George Floyd is the last straw.  Took it down.  No more red, white, and blue.  Can’t.  Put up the #blm.  Because frankly?  Pick up the flag of inclusion.  Had too.  Pissed off.  Tired of the killing.  Yeah, angry.  #blm is our flag.  Unless you believe in #MAGA.

#restoredignity

 

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