I took three days away from reading the news over this 4th of July weekend.

I hadn’t done anything like this in awhile and I legitimately have no idea what’s going on in the world, not that I don’t care. I do, but it will be waiting for me tomorrow.

I had a dream last night that Elon Musk died in a rocket-ship and nobody cared. It was pleasant, woke up feeling good, a smile on my fractured Buddhist heart, but what was really interesting to me was the 4th of July. I’ve always hated that holiday. Patriotism tends to bring out the worst in people in my experience, with their awful politics and otherisms of bigotry, racism and cruelty towards anyone that isn’t of the “Real” America.

The holiday has always seemed to be wearing a cloak of the gaudiest design, appreciated only by alpha-fucks content to dance in their own decline. It’s typically not my thing, but this year without the news trash and pundits and commentators and think pieces and politicians building some bullshit brand of the dumbest fucking self-serving take on….everything, it was just a bunch of kids running around lighting fireworks. It was full bars of people just being people, and festive. Many were happy just to have the day off. America has never been the America of grandiose myths, and more recently it’s been even worse…less healthy, poorer and fewer rights so what’s to celebrate beyond a day off?

Yes, the 4th of July was alright.

Loud, but fine.

Tomorrow I’ll go back to the hellscape of a nation in decline, but today I think I’ll hit the Taqueria and maybe tonight I’ll have an even better dream of even bigger fishes in the frying pan.