I never do this.
Driving to work, after Queen, Under Pressure, I listened to a radio broadcast re: the Taliban, the war against the Taliban.
“How long til we realize this isn’t working?”
I design a bumper sticker in my head, “Let’s try peace? De-Fund War.”
The broadcast then shifts to a report of the man who was aiming to fight a war on American soil and planted an explosive device, made with chemicals purchased from a Walmart, at the Asheville Airport, which I drive by at least 8 times a week.
I made a noise, HhhhHhunnHgh, guttural, like I had been punched. It was an involuntary noise, a noise of great feeling. My legs flooded with adrenaline, I could feel my heart jump into fluttering, pounding, my breath caught. hhhhhuunnhhhgh. I made the noise again, wanted to shake my head, but kept my hands steady on the wheel. Made myself breath deeply, checked my speed, the road around me.
Mind exploding in thoughts and images, the tingle of synapses in overwhelming rapid-fire around a blaring, prominent thought: “This! This is what I want to try to help to prevent – these situations in which people get a terrible idea that seems like a brilliant, important idea. I want to help these people get right in their heads, in their thinking, in their bodies and movements in the world. To learn why they see things the way they do, why they believe what they believe, what that rush of feeling is. I want to help them to figure out how to undo the bad ideas and find what is important in them, what the drivers are…”
“Oh, so you want to feel heard? Oh, so you want be safe?”
So, I was driving to work, listening to the radio, and this reality about the scene at the airport hit me, and I thought: “I will need to write about this. I have to write about this. This is important information for me.”
I needed to calm down, so I called and left my mom a voicemail, modulating my voice:
“I don’t think I will go to the game tonight, but I will let ——- know I am thinking about him. There is a lot I need to take care of at the house. I want to go to the game, it’s fun, but there is a lot of work stuff I need to do. Hope you have a good day and that yesterday was alright, that you hada nice day. Talk to you later.”
I was still shaky.
I ended up pulling into a Walmart parking lot at the edge of town to write this, feeling a little pressured. I only have ten minutes ’til I need to be at work. 8:00 minutes. I actually have to be there in 38 minutes, but I have too much to do, so I aim to be there early.
I feel calmer now that I made some notes, rolled the windows down.
Sat in the grey here in the Walmart parking lot.
I need to remember that idea, that motivation, to help these people who are capable of violence due to their terrible ideas and beliefs figure their shit out so fewer awful things happen in the world.
Last night I was working on an assemblage post, the various notes and writings from the past month. Longform, even so poorly organized as mine is, takes a long time to put together. In that post, I mention that a part of the effort collected here is to show the process and tools of deconstructing ideas and shifting ones perception of what is real, having not-great ideas and working them out.
Speaking of work, I will only be twenty minutes early, but 10 minutes late. I will take work home tonight, emails and service notes, even though there are so many more important things.