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This post was started in November (2009) and then just sat there, aging but not gaining in quality like wine might. It’s essence remains even truer now in that I haven’t written anything in over a year and have stifled my creative voice. And pretty much any other voice I might have. It seems that reading other voices had the effect of shutting me up. Google Reader asks: Having trouble keeping up with the sites you visit? At the time, I was only reading a few blogs but once I joined into the RSS feed reading stream, I kept adding more voices, more views, and more sites until simply keeping up with that flood took so much time that the feed reader became the drain down which my own writing spiraled away. I wrote this:

I’ve fallen into my RSS feeds and I have become thoroughly entangled, and now I can’t get unstuck. Something about seeing all those new posts (the numbers, they keep growing) makes me want to tick them all off the list. I can’t stop until the counter goes back to zero. Or at least into single digits. Do you have any idea how much time that eats up? My own personal delivery of the time sink that is the Internet, now coming directly to me.

Drinking deeply from the endless Internet tubes of information and opinion, I’ve now been inundated in anger, outrage and more for weeks. Wave after wave of outrage perpetrated against women, poor people, immigrants, and anyone not a white Christian straight male of certain means achieved the opposite of what is probably intended – instead of raising my voice, I was left voiceless. The anger rises and makes me feel powerless, because this is all so much bigger then I am. What can I do, really? I can live the principles in my own life as best I can, I can hold myself to examine my own prejudices and work against them. I can be aware. But I remain without action, passive, seemingly powerless to change the actions of the large corporations, the spineless politicians, the lying pundits, or the distorting media.

The blogs exhort to action, saying everyone can do at least one thing: call or write to your representatives in Congress. Send email, send letters, call and make your opinions known. Praise those that do good and heckle those that do not. Yes, this is the least I can do. Except, I cannot even do that effectively because I am a resident of Washington DC, and while I pay federal taxes and am required to serve on federal juries, I have no representation in the federal government. I have no voice here.

But I did not publish this little rant to impotence, unable even to air my own perceived powerlessness, to give voice to my frustration. I did start signing online petitions – a very small step, granted, but better than fuming silently on the couch. And I gave some money to certain causes, and even wrote in the occasional comment to the federal government during public commenting periods. I still did not speak. I did not write. I stayed silent and overwhelmed by others’ creativity and passion. Where is my passion, where is my voice? I haven’t heard myself in such a long time. I wonder what I sound like.


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