I'm feeling nostalgic and philosophical.

I read on Pandagon that nostalgia can be a function to ward off loneliness. And lonely I am. I want things to be the way they were several years ago, when I was having fun. But really, those years did suck, as the fun diminished, the suck got even greater. It was fun when I didn't know everyone well, and over time...well, you get to know people, and you realize that they're not your kind of people.

I've never really felt at home anywhere. I'm set adrift, alone, directionless. I refuse to go back to the Church I grew up in, not out of spite really, but what it's become. Times have become so divisive, stoking fires of discontent so that the rich in their enclaves can watch the rest of us burn from a safe distance. I told a friend her mother was stupid; I will forever feel very guilty at my extraordinary poor choice of words. I respect her mother, a very funny and very smart woman who is a small business owner with smarts. That's rare nowadays, when people forget about long-term investments as long they get rich quick, laughing all the way to the bank. But I bet she doesn't see that her party's been hijacked by Dominionists and Neocons. I don't necessarily believe that religion is an opiate of the masses, but in the right conditions, it can be. Who needs healthcare when the power of Jesus will heal your ills? Except that it doesn't.

Imagine a ten year old girl, teased by classmates. Not just teased as in good natured teasing, we're talking a terroristic campaign waged by classmates to inflict as much pain as possible on her. Stuff stolen, chairs always being pulled out from under her, taunts at how no one likes her and that she should go commit suicide. Think of the worst thing that anyone ever said to you that mattered. Now think of that worst thing being said to you, day in and day out, at least once an hour, for a period of years. You'd feel pretty shitty, wouldn't you?

I know I did.

Unless we take up arms against our perpetrators, they don't listen, and worse, they never learn. I have no hostility nor hate for any child who bombs or shoots up schools. Adults frequently don't understand the complex world of children, and never really seem to remember any of the bad parts of high school. I intensely remember these times, because they are burned into my memory not by choice, but by design. I can't really fault anyone but the adults who choose to blame other things on "random violence" or "video games", who look away when the terrorism happens, who fail to alert the parents. The truth is, they can tell you till they're blue in the face, and you don't even try to empathize with what they're telling you, thinking that it's just pure emotion that comes out of nowhere. Don't make up stories that everyone's secretly jealous of you or that it's not that big of a deal. A child's world is small; once they are school age, a big part of it is school. As we get older, our world expands, but to a ten year old, or a twelve year old, it's not as big as you'd like to think. I know that not everyone's parents are like this, but honestly, a lot are. And parents of those who would do this to a peer...well, I understand. No one wants to think that their child is capable of such cruelty.

And I'm only on my third margarita.

I went to church a lot. I volunteered as an alter server many, many times. Oh, they hated me, called me names, but when they didn't want to serve or had a vacation and needed a replacement, they called me. I gladly accepted it. You see, God gave me strength. The readings, the rituals, the music...it made me feel good. In my darkest hour, God was there for me, listening, helping, making me feel like something cared though no one else did. It was why I did not commit suicide. God gave me solace.

But if I would've had a gun, I would've ended up in juvie, and 20 people would not be alive today...even though I had God.

I've learned over the years to handle conflict and criticism, and to say "Uh-huh" and "Sure" when you know the criticism is bunk. But it still burns me that to this day, my parents never knew. Or, rather, that they didn't believe me. One word from a teacher would have cleared it up, but they didn't.

And I am still alone as ever. I keep thinking about joining a group or something, but I can't. Adult versions of those children terrorize everyone, and everyone caves into them as if their view actually mattered, and it doesn't. Five minutes of thinking will get you to that area. I do not put up with it because I know what it means to be silent and not call them out for what it is. We've all got our problems; your problems are not mine, but that doesn't mean that they're still not problems, and well...no one's problems are worse than any others.

Peace, and don't pretend that children are not capable of utter cruelity.