I am Prometheus. Prometheus. Say it slowly,
roll the letters around in your mouth. Prometheus.
It is not my real name but it is name most fitting for me. Prometheus, the
creator of mankind and its greatest benefactor, chained to a rock, his liver
eaten daily by an eagle, in eternal damnation for stealing fire and gifting it
to mankind. Yes, there are definite similarities between us.
I am Prometheus, and this is my story. Except it’s not my story. I wish it was, but I am
not unique or special. This is the story of untold millions of hapless chaps
and chicklets caught up in the grinding gears of the corporate machine.
This is a faux memoir told episodically. You will be
inclined, at times, to laugh at us, and cry for us. Do not hold back either
impulse. That is the point of sharing this story—to remind us that life is
nothing but a series of small comedies and tragedies. What is important is what
we take away from each occurrence, what we learn from each calamity and joy.
What will be…
I’ve wanted to talk about this for so long.
But who was there to talk to? I wanted to write about it for so long because
writing is somehow easier than talking. But how do you write about crazy when
crazy is all you know? How do you write about something when you have language
but no words to describe the pain, the fear, the crazy?And so, it remained unwritten, unspoken
until one day when a coworker callously, casually ascribed her habitually
unemployed, controlling husband’s actions to “his OCD.” That did it. I wanted
to scream, to explain. Then I thought I’d finally blog about it. Instead, I wrote
it into the book I was working on. One of the main characters in my third novel,
In His Eyes, became a stand in for me, told the story I could not.Dinner was full of grace, exhibiting a
chef’s finesse, subtly seasoned. Calvin raised his glass. “Here’s to our
chefs—Micah and Skye—you’ve done it again. Every year, just as we think you
couldn’t top last year’s meal, you do it again.”“Cheers.”…
I'm sure this will lose me a bunch of connections, but I've had enough. You cannot call yourself my friend, my neighbor, describe yourself as someone who wishes me no harm AND support Donald Trump and his administration. You can't say you're not a racist and support the policies of this racist administration. You can't say you're an ally and support this homophobic administration. You can't say you're "Pro Life" and support this administration when they are doing THIS to children. Black children, brown children, are still children and equal to your precious WHITE children. I am not a parent and this breaks my heart. YOU would die to protect your children if this was happening to them. And you know what? So would I. Most likely YOUR forebears were immigrants and faced discrimination, yet you set yourself above and beyond AND BETTER THAN, more DESERVING than, today's immigrants. You are a disgrace and unChrist like. I am embarrassed to say …