I think often of Geoff Dyer in Algiers: “As the ball hangs there, moon-white against the wall of cloud, everything in the world seems briefly up for grabs and I am seized by two contradictory feelings: there is so much beauty in the world it is incredible that we are ever miserable for a moment; there is so much shit in the world that it is incredible we are ever happy for a moment.”

I am content enough to know that both feelings are exactly right; no resolution necessary — outside of eternal hope, anyway. This is the water we swim in; rejoice with those rejoicing, mourn with those mourning. This is a loving troubledness that makes sense in the world.

But the left-right tension around me is water I simply cannot get used to swimming in.

When I look at Trumpism (and it is an ism), and all the necessary lies and hypocrisies that support it, I think How can I not side with my brothers on the left? And when I look at the celebration of murder (and that not for the first time), and all the vitriolic arrogance disguised there in colorful love, I think How can I not side with my sisters on the right?

How has everyone found it so goddamn easy to pick a side?

Where is our troubled love?