
As a child I remember touching the fading tattoos on my grandfather’s arm as I sat in his lap. The ones forced on him from his time in the camps. He never spoke much about it. It was too painful.
What little he did tell me reminds me very much of what we are seeing today. Right here, right now.
I increasingly fear for the safety of my family and my friends each and every day. I fear our communication systems are too disconnected, discombobulated and manipulated to even have a watershed moment anymore. I fear we are too scattered, too busy fighting each other, and too drowned in misinformation to find a way back.
I find the only reasonable path to safety may be to try and leave this place I once loved. It does not feel like home anymore. I do not know how I could even accomplish such a thing at this point, but I don’t know what other options are left.
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