Vacancy

I went and voted today.  Would feel too guilty not to vote in this election, though I’m more distanced from politics than I’ve ever been.   Can’t stomach it any longer and really, I never could.  Now it’s just a circus.  I guess it has been for some time.  All the words have become suspect to me.  They come from too many directions.  It’s sensory overload in the worst possible way.  When the data all around you is masked by conjecture, the senses get trapped in the middle.  The glitch of this world becomes internal.

At the polling office I thought I’d have trouble working the ballot machine.  I figured that some instruction would confuse me or make me think twice about the procamerica-from-spaceedure.  Another trick that is being played on me.  Just another thing to worry about.  I figured I’d have to ask for help while the seventy-year-old woman beside me played hop scotch over the buttons and got out of there before the lunch rush.  My mind is now my worst enemy.  Everything is set to destruct.

But it went smoothly and I voted for my woman and got the hell out of there.  All in all, it was just half an hour of my day.  Just a trip to the grocery store or the bank.  I was thinking as I walked out of the polling office, that in the past, voting has instilled a strange and limited sense of power and individuality in me.  The temporary sensation that I count and that I’ve had an effect on something larger.  The realization of citizenship.  Today, the vacancy I felt after voting was no surprise.

The gas station down the street always has low prices so I stopped and filled up even though I still had half a tank.  These days, every little bit helps.

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