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Bless Me


I am way too blessed, and most of my blessings, it seems to me, are undeserved.


Unless being born a White male in a Blue state in America has been some kind of reward for nobly facing adversity in a previous life. Because let’s face it, being born a White male in a Blue state in America is like hitting the jackpot.


I get a full dose of freedom but I also get to feel liberal angst, liberal guilt, and my favorite, liberal smugness.


I get to believe I’m right and people will more or less leave me alone about it.


I get to go where I want, when I want, do what I want, and no one gives it a second thought.


I am the platonic ideal of a person who is not rich but who doesn’t have to worry about food or shelter, or whether the federal government is going to fist me right up to and through my cervix to make sure I’m not doing anything sinful in the eyes of the Lord.


Why am I so lucky, that I should be White, not Black; have a penis, not a vagina; live in a place that every so often lauds itself as Titletown, not some backwoods, cousin-fucking Red state filled with alligators, snakes, and cowboy hats?


I am so blessed that even my relative troubles don’t bother me much. I’m semi-lactose intolerant (but otherwise very tolerant) and I sometimes get reflux. But there are over-the-counter medications I can take for those. And anyway, I am blessed with health insurance.


I am so blessed that I don’t menstruate. I am so blessed that I can wear anything I want and no one will look at me and think about raping me. I am so blessed that I get paid the full penis rate at my job and not the lower vagina rate. I am so blessed.


But as I said, I am too blessed. I don’t deserve all these blessings. I wish I could give some of them to people who don’t have enough, but it’s not that easy. So I guess I’ll just stay blessed.


One thing does concern me, though: If I am so blessed in this life, does that mean I’ll be screwed in the next life? Will I be a disabled Black immigrant woman on food stamps carrying my rapist’s child? That would be the worst. If that comes to pass, I will definitely get religion. I will fall down on my skinny, scabbed black knees and pray to Jesus. I will pray hard, so hard. I will pray over and over again, until my prayer is heard. My simple prayer:


“Bless me, Lord. Please bless me.”



Copyright © 2022 Jason M. Rubin. All Rights Reserved.

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