He's dead to me. I switch rapidly between hoping his zombifying body dies ASAP, and missing the person he was before Nazis brainwashed and stole him.
He was a shitty friend who gatekept random things, like listening to bands in his mid-twenties. Much due to toxic masculinity. I found him quite cringey. Now he's a Nazi.
Yet I mourn his cringe ass each day. A whole person was lost to Nazis. I'm cycling, and I need new outlooks on this situation to get out of this rut. My self care is suffering.
I'm not white, and yeah white people can be scary. Sometimes you have to cater to their unconsciously misdirected, hateful, scapegoating judgements of you.
I daydreamed and daydreamed of how to talk this guy out of being a Nazi. In these imagined scenarios of reversing his brainwashing, I always ended up catering to his blind hate. It was like cutting off thin slices of myself for the swine part of him to eat. Hoping he didn't do anything dangerous as I spoke to him.
Then my heart sank like never before. It made me think... "Is this what black people in predominantly white offices feel like? Tiptoeing around and catering to scary swine? Appeasing them with pieces of your flesh to eat?"