I should be writing right now.

I should be writing right now, and I suppose I am since I am writing this, but this isn’t the creative outlet I really need at the moment.

Why am I not writing creatively? Stress. I know what’s new. Stress is a creativity killer, but the stress I have had lately is more akin to existential dread than it is to anything else.

Every day and night when I think about telling a story, I find myself worrying if I am doing enough to help my LGBTQIA siblings, sisters, and brothers. With the rise of anti-queer fascism, I fear for the future of my community and myself.

Everything feels so frivolous these days. Just having a moment of joy or happiness leads to worries about the future and whether we have one.

I know how dark that sounds, and I wish I didn’t feel like that, but wishing doesn’t make it so.

The truth is, defiantly working on our art and living our best life is an act of protest in this world. Yelling our stories and making our art is an act of defiance.

If only knowing a thing caused us to do that thing, but it is a cudgel to beat those dark thoughts back.

So it is time for me to smack a fear in the face and do something I actually want to do and not what I feel like I have to do. I invite you to do the same.