I didn’t want to mark a month, busying myself with the various “protagonisms” of the day, broadly understood. But now, 2 days later, the feelings are catching up with me.
I’m thinking about all the arguing we’d be doing after the apparent “shattering” of the axis; he’d be telling me not to fall for the propaganda and I’d be insisting that he’s missing my point. I hear his voice in every cringe opinion I listen to among my new-found comrades so wrapped up in their “position in the imperial core” that they forget what it actually means to be “internationalist.”
I find it fascinating when certain personalities will care so deeply about analyzing propaganda while caring so little about how they express themselves. But that fascination is a latecomer; I’m mostly just annoyed.
And yet, I persist in my “fidelity to the line.” It’s a bastard lineage I’ve been grafted into. And it’s one way I’m still connected beyond the grave.