So, I don't like to be a drama queen and, like, insert myself into the narrative of current events. I'm not a TV show writer, who's, like, OMG, here I am with my multi-perspective'd semi-alcoholic friends in the inner city (hello, GIRLS). But the situation in Ukraine got me a bit defensive. I would start typing in Cyrillic now, but it's pointless because, like, 3,574 people speak a Macedonian-like language, so I may as well type in English.
The point of my writing anything is to simply say that I think it futile and foolish for America to involve itself in any conflict in Eastern Europe. I'm no expert in geopolitics, but on a personal note I can say that President Clinton's involvement in the Kosovo conflict screwed me the fuck up. It wasn't like he chose to bomb some far-off exotic landmark—he bombed the school campus where I was supposed to swim the 100 meter backstroke that weekend in spring 1997. I was 10 years old, and I was supposed to win that race in Novisad. It was political. He had some god-given reason to win. I had no clue what it meant.
Instead, I had teammates asking why I didn't swim and why America wanted to kill us. Yeah, there were the Sarajevo roses and yeah my president was responsible for their ashy blooms. Why, though, did I—a blonde-haired, green-eyed American—not get to compete where we all wanted to swim? I didn't know. They kept asking, but I didn't know.
I would type more, but I'm nine hours behind you, Macedonia. I'll tell you more later. Te molam. Ciao.