“I can’t breathe.” The famous last words of George Floyd and others.
Those three words. Could be the slogan of the year.
We can’t breathe because of police brutality. We can’t breathe because the West Coast is burning due to climate change and the smoke hangs thick and acrid, yellow skies with a blood-red sun.
We can’t breathe through these masks, hunched over and doomscrolling our phones as the country splits in two and our children wait at home for… what? Something that has no definite timeline.
It goes on. Whatever this is. Whatever you call it.
But try to breathe. Take an interval and be silent.
Counterpoint: I can breathe. I must make time to breathe. I am here.