The Joke's on Me...or You. Hard to Say

I have these flashes where I want to write something that changes the world. I want to write things like "I don't care if you're gay, you're still human" but then I ruin it by adding things like "and as a human, you're likely an idiot."
It could be cynicism (or as cynics call it, realism), but I keep wanting to say important things and then realize that it's just not my style.
I can have a serious conversation with you if you'd like, but I will undoubtedly interject silly quips and whatnot. The problem is that I like serious conversations...I just like making snide comments just as much.
So far, over the last week, this blog has been mostly on par with that - the real-life issues I'm having and the not-so-effective but ultimately therapeutic ways I deal with it (which is by writing...I think that's clear). So maybe I should try.
I never thought of myself as a particularly tolerant person, but I also didn't think of myself as being a total dick to everyone. When I was younger it used to be cut and dry of what was right and wrong and I didn't really see the gray area. As I get older I'm realizing that everything's the gray area and there's no black and white. (write that one down, that's a good one)

I'm just getting to the edge of some really heady stuff...but every time I start to write it, I keep thinking that this is not the place to try to change the world. But then again, if I'm free to write something "to change the world," that must mean we live in a pretty kickass world, right?
For instance, I don't care what your political affiliation is, but when you're pissed off about what's going on with the federal government and run around complaining about it I'd like you to stop and realize that if you pulled that crap in some other countries, they'd throw you in jail faster than you could pronounce their goofy-country-name.

America, you are and always will be my valentine.

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Shenandoah, Northern Virginia, and Racists

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Living a Dream

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