Chatter

An Oath

 

Okay the word is out and I can speak.

My friend. The author I published. My mentor in music and a bit in magic. Leslie.

She’s very sick. She’s a stubborn lady, and her stubbornness gave her a long life. In the end, it knocked her down.

Watching the ingratitude around her, the outright attacks, the inconsideration, the downright ignorance infuriated me. I spoke up once in a while. In the end I distanced myself from the filk community.

I can only say this.

Where was your PC talk at 2 in the morning when I faced ending my own life? It wasn’t there. SHE was. Where was your false outright and flag-waving when I’d lost my cat and was in the streets hunting for him at 3 AM? They weren’t there. SHE was. Where were ANY of you when my parents died and I – shuddering and hiding on the far edge in a hostile environment avoiding the funeral – cried my eyes out? SHE was there.

You do not ever. EVER. EVER! Expect me to turn on her, to take your platitudes as an excuse to abuse an elder with your petty politics. I don’t CARE that you didn’t agree with her opinions. I don’t FUCKING CARE!!! that you decided she said something wrong or was hateful or whatever the label you’re putting out was and is.

She fought for civil rights.
She helped people escape to freedom – literally!
She pushed for financial equality.
She was one of the people that paved the GODDAMN WAY for the rights you take for granted.
She lifted people up to music. She lifted ME to music.

And now I’m losing a rock in my life.

So I don’t CARE! what you say. She was better than most. That’s all that matters.

There will be those who’ll take their political stance in this. And I will damn you. I will damn you with my eyes. I’ll damn you with my heart. I’ll damn you with my tongue.

I will let the wyrms take you.


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