The rage has dissolved into tears, and the
tears into grim resolve. It’s time to wipe
the tears, to do what must be done… and
then… to laugh, a laughter sadder than tears.
It’s not only at the beginning of the day,
one must ask, why go on? But before
every undertaking. There is nothing any
longer that is trivial. Everything,
everything –is life or death.
Do I bother to draw water to drink? Do I
prepare food to break the fast? This pen,
and these brushes? Is there any reason to
pick them up, to make marks on this
paper?
How many times I’ve wondered—what
was it like, in Germany, 1933?
I think about the people who voted for…
I will not write that name, or let it pass
my lips… the “good Germans’
I will not be a ‘Good German.’ I will not
be a ‘Good German.”
No more, the prattle of the ‘realists.’ No
more talk of following those who ‘get
things done.’ There is no longer any
reality worth living, but that we take up
and create for ourselves.
Love, Solidarity,
Imagination… RESISTANCE!
Jacob Russell's Magic Names 