My country is burning and there is nothing I can do. I feel powerless. I feel impotent. Our neighbors are being murdered in the streets for the crime of having the wrong color skin, more neighbors are dying of a plague that should be simple to avoid but isn’t because so many of my neighbors feel that their comfort is more important than other people’s lives.

I need to feel like I have control over something or else I’ll loose my mind. The grass. I have control over the grass. It’s way too long so I’m cutting it all even though doing so makes my back hurt like you wouldn’t believe.

It is an absolutely gorgeous day here in this place that used to be called America.