Hmm, who do I vote for this year? In my country, they say you really only have two options. They say one option is hell and the other salvation. They say not voting for one means voting for the other. They say that who you vote for says everything that needs to be said about your personality, ethics, and intelligence.
I say that I really have two terrible decisions before me. The first is whether to vote or not. In my country, doing so feels like riding atop a gigantic, planet-consuming meteor, tugging it gently while saying, “Hey, I want you to go that way please.” The second is who to vote for. If we assume that we do in fact only have two options, this feels like deciding between gently tugging the meteor toward a planet of women and children or gently tugging it toward a star which would then explode and engulf the nearby planet of women and children.
It is cosmic. At once, I feel unconsenting, pinned atop the meteor and distracted by Tik Tok—another star is born!—watching as the galactic force consumes another world in my name. And yet I also feel that as I write this—chilling at my L-shaped desk, double monitors, rain, not bombs, falling outside—already much has been said about distance. I’m a privileged bystander, that much is true. Yet I feel the gravity on the tides of my attention. Toward home, toward war. Comfort, desperation. Complicity, innocence.
Back to my terrible decisions, then. First, do I vote?
I will, but why?
I will vote because my country can build worlds too. I will vote if for no other reason than to thank those who helped build the world into which I was born. Gratitude, to those who came before, for helping create the world with poetry, food with friends and family, and the Tik Tok algorithm. To be properly gracious, I feel I must give an opinion on the world that we can create next.
I will vote because I want those of my country to know that we should continue this little experiment in this miniscule corner of this speck in the universe. We have work to do!
If, at the moment I cast my ballot, it feels as if I’ve whispered directions to a passing comet, I will still feel I’ve confirmed that everything my country’s people have accomplished up until this point does not have to be in vain.
The feeling of vindication—atomic and communicable—will live alongside the feeling of despair—universal and unstoppable.
My country can build and destroy worlds. So then, who should command it?
One planet I know I don’t live on is the one with Donald Trump and Joe Biden. Their worlds—both the ones they come from and the ones they seek to create—are not mine. I say their worlds are not ours either. In their worlds, truth is made of dark matter. One man’s world is a black hole, eating everything and producing nothing. Another man’s world is a red giant, blowing up and not fading away.
Yet these two men stand beside the world-builder/destroyer that is my country—the same damn meteor as me—waiting to see who will assume control.
I will give neither of them my vote.
I dare not protest too much though! Unfortunately, I live in a country where even peaceful protest is a pathway to a world of penalty and punishment. This is a world I’m not familiar with, but one I can easily find myself in.
World-building involves disagreement, disapproval, and discord. To build a world without these—see the men above—is to create the shooting star that does not stop when it comes across a planet of women and children.
I want to build a world with balance, morality, and respect. My country, the meteor that can seed or destroy a world, is led by too many people with no balance of truth, no ethical code, and no respect for life. I want a world with protest and celebration. I want rebirth without murder, and I want gravity without chains.
Voting is just a small part of building that world, but the decisions around it feel linked to the cosmos. Casting a ballot can feel worthless, and yet we need it to guide our galactic journey.
The other parts of that world-building, not-destroying project are information and conversation. What should we talk about next? There’s hope for humanity as long as we have the tools and the discussion. We can right our wrongs.
My country is like a world-eater, no matter who you vote for. What wrongs should we right next?
Ma(’)s Espacio 