Who knows, Who cares: Scrolling Through the End of the World

An internal struggle with being my best self.

Dear Growers,

Currently, I’m contemplating the facets of care.
Am I accurate about what it means to care;
or, am I soothing that piece of me that yearns to be better,
and more than I am today.

It’s easy to lose grip of reality.
Is it Bombs over Baghdad or tear gas canisters exploding over Los Angeles?

I have a device embedded to my hand, a supercomputer wrapped in titanium and glass.
And, it’s still impossible to parse fact from fiction.
Garbage in; garbage out.

Moorings past, felt anchored to trust and credibility;
a fact felt like something you could cash at the bank.
These days, everything feels like foreign currency.

Exchange rates out of wack, don’t know who you can trust,
what you can trust.
It’s all fiat.

It feels like you don’t need an influencer or a journalist to know what’s what:
Our freedoms are under fire.
From Tiktok to CNN, the alarms have been tripped.

Yet, helplessness and detach.
I am moved and affected. I am sad and disheartened.
I feel lost.
I am exhausted.

Two truths are held.
Like friends, there are only so many things I can nurture well.
And, I’m stretched.

America’s grand experiment wasn’t to just stop kissing the ring, and bending the knee to the King.
It was a manageable, docile, and paralyzed citizenry;
One that cared enough to take ownership, but not enough to stage another coup.

Do I care too little, or too much?

What’s care?