The past week has just been weird.
Mostly bad weird.
The world is kind of screaming and falling apart, as Jeff Mangum would say. And I say what he says, since he’s a genius and all.
I can’t get over what happened to those children.
All I can think about is the pain of the parents. The worst pain a human can probably know, in my opinion.
I can’t accept it and I refuse to. I won’t pray that they’re angels now. They were angels to their families while they were alive. I’ll be angry forever.
It’s up to us. The alive and capable, to make something better.
We have a burden. We have the responsibility that we have but one life here on Earth and possibly anywhere, ever, forever and ever.
There’s always something dark and crisis-like about December. The days are never shorter. The world is never bleaker. My December is getting weird. I’m way too tired. I’m too sad. My dog is maybe getting some sort of weird raccoon-transmitted disease. Or not.
I’m looking forward to Christmas, to the days getting longer, and to trying to do something about what I believe.
I don’t want to pray. I want to act. I’m an angry mama. I’m ready to stand around and yell things at elected officials. The time to prevent another tragedy like this is…yup, now.