“you’re both right. you’re all right. now what?”

art won’t save the world. 

but it’s probably too late for anything to pull the world out of this mess partially of our own making, yet one also massively worsened by thousands of moronic men who’ve spent generations growing their wealth at its expense and who remain fundamentally impossible to oppose. we’ve glued ourselves to the seats on an unstoppable train they own and operate that’s slowly but surely hurtling off a cliff. so how do we bide our time on the way there?

we find ways to laugh so as not to cry. we keep creating in spite of all the decay and destruction around us every single day because only when we stop have we truly lost. is it all just a distraction? absolutely! but what the fuck else is there for us to do? even if incremental change is still possible, trying to rewrite a tragedy that’s been in the works since well before we were born is a fool’s errand. so ultimately, all we have left to find comfort and catharsis in are these distractions - and ideally those shared in crowded rooms with countless strangers equally enraged. as someone once close to cruise said, we come to these places to laugh, to cry, and to care, because we need that - all of us. it’s one of the only things they can’t take.

when we were walking out last night my boyfriend said “it’s over, but it’s alright.” because it has to be. and we have to find ways to make it so. and that’s the best we can do these days. the ice we skate is getting pretty thin, but the water’s getting warm so you might as well swim.