But don’t worry ‘bout me.

A little thing like a major hurricane ain’t enough to keep us down. Not forever, anyway.

Y’all keep on having your petty little wars about whoever is superior to whoever else.

I get it.

We all do.

And while y’all are fighting, maybe take a minute to remember the entire nursing home full of PEOPLE who were left behind during the worst storm they’ve ever seen.

Or didn’t see. They were old, eyes and ears fading, left to sit in their own waste, unable to rise from their beds and chairs.

But y’all go on fighting.

Y’all go on worrying about which ONE MAN is gonna be THE one man, while MASSES OF MEN take each other out on dark and filthy streets in the name of justice, when actual justice is so perverted that y’all couldn’t call it if you saw it. And you never do see it, because the war being waged on the outside is nothing like the one hidden beneath the deepest layers of corruption this nation has ever seen.

But y’all keep on.

Take all our monuments and institutions and drag them down the dirty streets while you scream for an equality you already had but pissed away. Y’all keep on fighting.

I can’t say this stuff. I’ll be stoned with the same rocks I’m throwing, because don’t I believe in your cause too? Of course I do.

But y’all keep on twisting it up, making it ugly. Continue to make this a place so unrecognizable we’re all afraid to peek out of our houses in the mornings.

Afraid of what our brothers and sisters will come to give us, afraid of what they’ll come to take away.

We don’t have a whole lot of time left to get this right. The panic button’s been pushed.

We’re all looking around, jerking our heads this way and that, trying to find cover when there clearly isn’t any.

I’ve been part of discussions about burying a steel building or a school bus, piping air in, stocking up on ammo and food—trying to survive the onslaught we all know is coming.

While y’all are wasting time and people fighting and ignoring the storm that already came, the storm that’s coming is still coming. And y’all ain’t gon’ get away from it.

None of us are.

Not if something doesn’t change real soon. Something, like EVERYTHING.

But hey, y’all worry ‘bout what you gon’ worry ‘bout.

Just don’t worry ‘bout me.

I’ll be fine.

We all will.