It was constricting, in a way. An uncomfortable air, not too bad, but like 55% humidity. Some of it was contrived internal guilt of not having grown much interest in politics, some of it was annoyance about the myopia or radical (any political impulses are radical for such uninterested person like me) passion, some of it was upsettingly repetitive, uninformative, and dumb national broadcasts, and some of it must have been sadness that people are only so excited and filled with awe for few things--and basically once in four years have that political ability and passion. (More latter than former?) Life of passion, awe, curiosity. In a way, hasn't capitalistic regime's politics become much more about self-interest of the individuals than about promoting mutual understanding? Aren't we more capable of being reasonable enough to explain to the constituents the compromise that happened-- if the elected leaders are to be capable of self-judgment, not just sheer reflection of the 'fickle' will of the masses? Aren't we more capable of being that than hyping up the division and collecting votes by creating many of that divisions? Can this even be changed because it can be thought about or is it just mere fiction? Fucking politics. A fucking perennial and inherent mess. Why cannot I just live outside the history? Some part of me wants to do well in history, I guess.

I'm just not going on Facebook for the next 72 hours for my own sanity.

Politics, Mothagesso.