Ooc: the worst thing that happened to my poppler today was that he had to sit on the toilet when he didn't want to. He's three. He has a speech impediment and long blond hair and my wife's eyes. He is fundamentally silly. He's tall for his age and he can count past 100 (this week, he told me he can't stop counting because "numbers go to infinity!"). He likes to fall asleep holding someone's hand.
You can imagine the worst things that have happened to three-year-olds in Gaza. You don't want to. But you can. Tiny bodies shattered by bombs made in a congressional district you live in, or have at least driven through. Little hands blown off by Israeli soldiers who will celebrate with dances on TikTok. Futures swallowed by the unholy monstrousness of war. Loved ones who will never come back. Hunger that will last for a lifetime. Thirst that cannot be quenched. Tears that dead parents cannot wipe away. Dreams that will never come. Hands that will never be held.
Today, potty training was the worst thing that happened to my son. He might have a tummy ache from his potty-incentive chocolate chips. And he will fall asleep holding my hand. He will never be the object of extermination. And yet, despite myself, I will cry and I will imagine. I must imagine.
LRRR ON EARTH /
npub1rr…ngz05
2024-02-19 06:54:21
Author Public Key
npub1rrmq5mh73zavk50u4cqt509nws5dp5ghr9jfqmdu59v60qyr947sengz05Published at
2024-02-19 06:54:21Event JSON
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"content": "Ooc: the worst thing that happened to my poppler today was that he had to sit on the toilet when he didn't want to. He's three. He has a speech impediment and long blond hair and my wife's eyes. He is fundamentally silly. He's tall for his age and he can count past 100 (this week, he told me he can't stop counting because \"numbers go to infinity!\"). He likes to fall asleep holding someone's hand.\n\nYou can imagine the worst things that have happened to three-year-olds in Gaza. You don't want to. But you can. Tiny bodies shattered by bombs made in a congressional district you live in, or have at least driven through. Little hands blown off by Israeli soldiers who will celebrate with dances on TikTok. Futures swallowed by the unholy monstrousness of war. Loved ones who will never come back. Hunger that will last for a lifetime. Thirst that cannot be quenched. Tears that dead parents cannot wipe away. Dreams that will never come. Hands that will never be held.\n\nToday, potty training was the worst thing that happened to my son. He might have a tummy ache from his potty-incentive chocolate chips. And he will fall asleep holding my hand. He will never be the object of extermination. And yet, despite myself, I will cry and I will imagine. I must imagine.",
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