It’s been a hell of a weekend, hasn’t it? The tragedy in Connecticut was devastating. It colored everything. What can be said about such a thing? I can’t even conceive of how the parents of the dead children must feel. You send your kid off to school and expect to see them later that afternoon. No one thinks their child will not be coming home. How can a parent begin to wrap their head around this? It makes me feel ill. My heart breaks for them.
I don’t like kids much–they’re noisy, obnoxious, destructive, and germ-ridden–but there are two things that make me nuts really fast: hurting a child or hurting an animal. Do that in my presence and I’ll take you out. Kids and animals are innocent. They shouldn’t have to suffer at the hands of insane adults.
Writing didn’t seem to matter in light of what happened. I couldn’t concentrate, and the few times I sat down at the keyboard, I couldn’t create. The weekend slowly vanished, obliterated by movies, reading, sleep. On Saturday, I watched all of Lord of the Rings. These were the extended versions and went on forever, but I was glad of it. I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to remember.
I wanted to forget, to not have seen the news. Eventually, I’ll manage to put it behind me, like a lot of people. Watch. In a few days, the story will start to fade. Other news will take its place. And nothing–NOTHING–will change. Gun laws won’t be revised. People will stop talking about it. Life will resume it’s normal patterns.
Until the next time, and there will be a next time! and outrage will begin again… and then slowly fade.
What the hell is wrong with this country? I wasn’t born here but America has always been my home, the only one I’ve ever known. These last several years, I’m ashamed of it. Embarrassed by the bad choices it makes. And lately, I’m scared of what those in authority may do to me or those I love.
This is what happens when a country is run by Big Money and not people with big hearts, well developed ethics, and a strong sense of morality. What are we becoming?
Usually I write to escape reality, to go to a world that is much more sympathetic, more loving, more kind than the one we live in every day. Don’t get me wrong–I’m no saint. I suffer road rage, I get annoyed at people, sometimes small things piss me off. I occasionally have temper tantrums I’m not proud of.
Why is there so much crazy in our world these days? Why do we all seem to have such a short fuse of late? Is it because there are seven billion people on the planet and this number increases every minute of every day?
Mice who breed enough to fill their allotted space soon start killing each other. They kill themselves. Close proximity to others of their kind is not pleasant, it’s maddening. They try to escape it. Add to that dwindling resources and what do you get?
I apologize for the depressing post today, but life is sometimes depressing. I don’t always feel wonderful. Sometimes I’m downright sad.
I wish it was spring. I’d love to smell new grass and pretty flowers.