I can write 1000 words without really thinking about it.
I’m kind of out of these words, though. I don’t have the right words anymore, for guns and gun control, for religion, for politics, for any of it. I’m having trouble mustering up enough outrage at the moment. The tank is nearing empty.
I’m not smart enough to know the right words.
Take away all the guns. Or give them to everyone.
Ban all the religions. Or make them all illegal except the one most people like.
Execute all the rapists. Or make rape legal.
Live together in harmony. Or only let people live with their own kind.
Let everyone in. Or kick everyone out.
Really try to help people with mental illiness. Or lock them all up.
I’m willing to admit that I don’t have any answers, so maybe I’ll stop talking about the questions.
I have outrage fatigue.
I’m trying not to, but I keep wondering what it must be like, to hide under a desk, or in a bathroom, or under a chair, or in a classroom hoping your not about to get shot and die but kind of knowing that you are. Most of us won’t ever have that feeling. It’s hard to even imagine, but I imagine it anyway.
But you can’t really be sure when you walk out of the door in the morning that you’re coming back, cause the world’s crazy. It’s best not to dwell on it. I guess you should try and at least let people you care about know how you feel, just in case you don’t return.
Someone I knew walked out his door onetime and didn’t come back. He didn’t get shot or anything, but that’s not really important. He did tell everyone to remember the good times, but especially to remember the best. The best times, I guess, the best people. Maybe just whatever you define as the best.
Maybe we should try and remember the best, not just when the bad stuff happens but all the time. Right now. So when the worst happens we won’t feel like we took anything for granted.
Or maybe not. Like I said, I don’t really know anything and you shouldn’t take my word for it.