Tuesday, November 14, 2017

The (bloody) red line

Yes, I know there was another shooting today – and, thankfully, the elementary school was locked down or who the hell knows how high the victim count might've been.

I'm at my wit's end. So frustrated, angry, sad. And TIRED of it. It's like screaming into the void. Like watching an upcoming train wreck while you're bound, gagged, restrained and forced to watch the carnage. More trains are gonna wreck. More people are gonna die.

You see the succession of trains coming down the tracks. Your eyes are held open against your will. One train. Two trains. Three...four...five...ad nauseam. They're all gonna wreck. These tracks only lead to pain, suffering, death.

There will be blood, brain matter, ragged holes blasted into supple flesh, vacant eyes staring from shattered skulls. Lifeless tongues lolling out of mouths, future words silenced forever. Rigor mortis.

The metal taste of spattered blood lingers in your own mouth.

You want to stop it. MAKE IT STOP!

People mill about, uttering, "Nothing we can do. It's a shame. So sorry. Thoughts and prayers." Patting your head, patronizing you. Hot tears stream down your face, hit the pavement, mix with countless pools of blood dotting the scenery.

Here, have a bump stock to make you feel better. How about a free membership to the NRA? That should calm you and keep you numb for a while.

But really, there's nothing we can do. The trains...well, those trains are going to keep running. And you, my dear, you will keep watching.

Whether you want to or not.

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