MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!
I had a great Christmas with the ones I love…couldn’t ask for more…
And for a little Christmas bonus… a little shout-out from the cutest little Christmas munchkin!!
Well…the world didn’t end. Darn it. Don’t you almost wish it had? Or am I the only one who feels that way? Hmm…
Forevermore… A POEM.
Life goes on.
Nothing has changed.
This world, my world…
all of it…it’s all the same.
Same as yesterday.
I still feel numb.
I’m still filled with hate.
Filled to the brim…
Like I’m going to break.
Tonight, here I lie…
Thoughts racing a million miles a minute and I’m wide awake.
As I ask myself…
Does the illusion end tonight?
Or will I live to see another day?
Are these the last breaths I will ever take?
So much riding on this, so much at stake.
Whatever can I do?
I’ve tried praying to God…he doesn’t hear me.
I’ve tried begging.
On my knees.
I’ve tried begging please…
Don’t let there be more.
For there’s only so much one person can take.
And I’ve filled my quota for the day.
For just one soul; for just one life.
Dare I say, my sanity is at stake…
As I wander, aimlessly, this road to becoming a fake.
Where to go from here?
How to escape the fear?
Tell me, is the end near?
Are those bright lights I see?
Voices of angels that I hear…beckoning?
Calling me home.
Should I join them?
Say goodbye to what might have been?
And just accept that this one battle I cannot win?
These thoughts are like weapons;
Sharp as knives, straight to the heart.
When does it end?
Where do I start?
Is it all in my head?
I really don’t think it is.
It doesn’t get more real than this.
Feels like I’m broken inside; bleeding within.
Caught up in the desperation and utter despair–
washed asunder by the blood of my sins.
I cannot break free.
God knows, I can’t win.
Where is an end to this game?
An end to the shame?
That haunts me on this cold, dark day.
Forever, I wait.
Forever in turmoil.
Forever to blame.
I do not exist.
I just transcend;
up, up and either further away…weightless.
I am nothing.
Nothing but a name.
At the bottom of the page.
A blurred life; forgotten.
This world, my world…
destined to be the same.
And. I. Am. Nothing.
Always the same.
So, aside from the world NOT ending…things are kind of crazy at the moment. I leave in two weeks for New York City. Only two more weeks…it seems so surreal. I feel like it’s all happening so fast. Almost TOO fast. I just feel like there’s so much to do…and so much that I haven’t done. So much that I’ve missed…and so much time that I’ve wasted. Lately, I just feel like I’ve wasted so much of the time that I’ve had here…with my family, my friends…and just in general. Ever since what happened in Newtown last week…I’ve been feeling like I should have done more, you know?
I keep thinking about those 26 victims…how they’ll never have another day with their families and loved ones. And yet, here I am–deliberately choosing and preparing to leave mine. In a way, I feel guilty for wanting to leave. For feeling like I HAVE to and NEED to leave. Is it wrong for me to want to start over? I feel like it shouldn’t be…like I shouldn’t feel bad about wanting to leave and to live my life. I’m just really confused right now.
If nothing else, what happened is just another painful reminder of how short life is…and how uncertain each and every day can be. You just never know what can happen. How unfinished a live can be. My family has always been my rock–the one constant in my life that I can depend on. And in two short weeks–that is all going to change. And I’m scared. I’m scared of how I’m going to feel and what’s going to happen when I don’t have that anymore. When I don’t have there there…minutes away…if ever I should need them. I’ve gone through so much…have seen and experienced so much…and yet, in a way, I almost feel unprepared. I’ve never been alone. I’ve never HAD to be…because I’ve always had them and they’ve always been there…even if I didn’t want them to be. It’s just really hard. I mean, they were really supportive of my decision in the beginning. And now…now that it’s getting closer to my leaving…they want me to stay. There are moments when I want to…and then another disagreement or fight starts and I feel like I’d give anything to get away. Moments when I start to resent them for being so overbearing and overprotective of me all these years; when I resent them for not preparing me to go out in the world on my own and for letting me lean on them so much all these years…letting me use them as a crutch. Then, of course, I start to feel guilty and ashamed for resenting them…knowing that they were just trying to do what was best and what they felt was right…because they loved me. And they do love me. I know that. I’ve never doubted that. I’m so thankful for that, even if I don’t always say it or show. I am.
I guess I have a lot on my mind…I don’t know. All I know is that this should be one of the best and the most exciting moments of my life. I should be beyond happy right now and looking forward to what’s to come…but I’m not…not completely. I’m worried about my oldest niece, Angelina. She’s having a really hard time with this…my leaving. She’s never been good with change, so she’s taking this hard. She doesn’t want me to go. She’s been begging me to stay for weeks now. She’s always acted far older than her age, which is why I some times forget that she’s only nine years old…that she’s still just a little girl. The way she sees it, I’m leaving her and walking out of her life. I’ve tried to explain, but I just can’t seem to find the right words or figure out how to put this in a way that she can understand. I wish I could bring her with me. That I could save her from what lies ahead, living in that house. I know how dysfunctional my family can be. After all, I grew up in the chaos. I love my family–I do–but they can really push a person’s limits. I know that…all too well, actually. They mean well, but even the best of intentions can cause a lot of damage. The pressure and expectations they put on you…it can be too much sometimes. I know, because I caved from it all more times than I can count while I was growing up. My biggest fear is that, like me, she’ll struggle. I know that it’s all just a part of growing up and that she has to learn eventually…but she doesn’t need to learn right now. She’s just a little girl. She deserves to have a childhood and I want her to have one. More than anything, I want that. I love that little girl so much. I don’t want her to get hurt or have her get her heart-broken. I don’t want the world to take away what makes her HER. I’ve seen the hell and the horror that is out there in the world and though I know I can’t, I just want to protect her from it all. Just for a little while longer, at least. And it breaks my heart that I might not be able to do that. I just wish that I could, that’s all.
Either way, it’s happening…
Okay…so considering that the world is apparently going to end tomorrow, I thought I’d be somewhat preemptive with a last blog post. 🙂 I have to say, it’s a little funny–the way people are going on about it. There are literally thousands that have been preparing for this so-called “End of Days” for months; years even. Some have been putting together these “survival kits” that contain all the essentials one would need to survive this Apocalypse. It’s a little funny because they can’t possibly know what they’d need–considering no one has lived through an Apocalypse before–or if there’s ever even been one.
As for me, well, I’m kind of half on/half off the whole bandwagon–though I’m not an extremist like those people. Some are even saying that it’s going to be a Zombie Apocalypse–which is pretty far-fetched, if you ask me. Zombies aren’t real people. Apocalypse or not, I really don’t think we’re going around eating each others faces. But then again…stranger things have happened…so who really knows.
Honestly, I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know if the world is going to end tomorrow. Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t. But maybe…maybe it should. I mean, the world is crazy out there. We have tsunamis wiping out thousands, with no warning whatsoever. Hurricanes like Katrina and Sandy that are taking lives and leaving thousands homeless and displaced. Countries waging wars against other countries oceans away. Soldiers–men and women alike–sacrificing their lives because of stupid politics. Terrorists flying planes into buildings and blowing up malls and buses and community centers–killing thousands in the name of some unseen, unproven God…cowards with blood on their hands calling themselves warriors and martyrs in the name of Allah. Right here in the US–this supposed “super nation”–people are killing one another and people are dying every day. We give asylum and harbor illegal immigrants everyday. We house and feed them when so many of our own citizens are starving and sleeping on the streets. Our government gives handouts–hand over fist–to those on welfare that shouldn’t even BE on welfare–individuals that are fully capable of working, but prefer not to. And the worst part is–the money isn’t coming from the government or from the deep pockets of all those politicians on Capital Hill! The money comes from the checks of the good, honest, and hardworking men and women that DON’T sit on their asses everyday watching soaps and who AREN’T popping out kids left and right. I think it’s just great how the government in this country takes pity by handing out these little back-to-school and Christmas bonuses to undeserving families on welfare–when there are men and women working 50-60 hour work-weeks that are still struggling to make ends meet–let alone trying to give their families a good Christmas. It’s mind-boggling to me, it really is–but it’s happening. Every day. What’s even more mind-boggling is that it’s those undeserving people who take advantage of the system that make it even harder for those that ACTUALLY need the help to get assistance. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against the welfare system in general–I just think that there are some serious changes that need to be addressed and made, that’s all.
Unfortunately, the problems don’t stop there. The values of society have been steadily declining for decades…more so recently. I don’t know if it’s a loss of morality, a lack humanity itself, or if we simply just don’t care or give a damn anymore. Whatever the reason…it just keeps getting worse. We have drugs invading our streets and our homes and our schools. We have kids buying designer drugs at lockers in high and elementary schools, between the toll of class bells. In our cities, we have kids–7 and 8 year-olds–joining gangs and running drugs for dealers…and kids dying from those same drugs. We have kids dying in the ghettos from drive-bys…their only crime being that they were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. There are kids dropping out of school and doing nothing with their lives. Hell, we have college graduates flipping burgers, trying to pay off their debts and student loans. The economy is crumbling and the government is raising taxes to fill the deficit on people who are just struggling to get by as it is. Meanwhile, we have CEO’s and politicians getting rich off the misfortune of the poor/working class and living in luxury in their million-dollar mansions. Hell, our country and our people are struggling…and yet, we’re giving billions to other countries and building up THEIR economies.
Millions of people in this country are dying and living with completely treatable diseases, simply for the fact that they can’t afford health care or the drugs that they need. Everyday and all around us, people are dying from so many different types of cancer and there’s nothing we can do. Every year we give billions of dollars to cancer research…with no results. Supposedly, that is. Personally, I think they’ve already found the cure and that they’re just not telling us simply because it’ll bring down all those Pharmaceutical companies that are profiting off the sale of cancer drugs and medication. But that’s just my opinion.
The world is a scary place…and getting scarier by the day. And yet, we choose to still bring children into it. Into this chaos and madness. There’s so much evil that exists in this world and we do nothing about it. The justice system–in this country, especially–is a joke. We let murderers and rapists walk free every day. Free to walk among good, decent people…free to breathe the same air…free to commit and repeat their horrible crimes again and again. We persecute the innocent and the victims, while we protect and defend the guilty.
There are people in this world that shouldn’t even be here…that don’t deserve to live. People like that sick bastard that walked into an elementary school just last week and with no remorse and no regard–took the lives of 26 people. 20 innocent children we gunned down in cold blood and shot point-blank by that murdering bastard. They had their whole lives ahead of them. They could have been anything they wanted to be. They could have made the world a better place. Now they’ll never have that chance. They had their lives stolen from them far too soon. They could have been great…could have been someone or done something amazing. And now–now their little bodies are lying in a box in the ground…their existence erased in the blink of an eye. Now, they are just going to be remembered as the victims of the 2nd most deadliest school massacre in the nation’s history. That’s their legacy…and godknows, it’s just not right. The fact that something like that could happen–that someone could just walk into a school and murder 6 and 7-year-old–it just goes to show how messed up some people in this world are. How cold and cruel and downright evil they can be.
The aftermath of that tragedy–and the way people have chosen to respond to it–is both disheartening and disgusting. Families of the victims are suffering and grieving right now–and the media is asking for interviews and sound bits for their evening broadcast. I knew it’s just how the news works, but that doesn’t make it right. That 26 people were killed–no longer seems to matter. It’s only a been a week and already people have turned the focus on the gun control debate…blaming what happened that day on the loopholes of state and federal gun laws. What people fail to realize and accept, is that it’s not the guns or the laws that are the problem. The problem lies with society; with people themselves; and the evil darkness that lurks within them. In a way, we let these horrible things happen. We let people get away with lesser crimes, allowing them to work up to worse ones. We allow people like the Sandy Hook shooter to get their sick ideas and all the information they could possibly need to carry out such a horrific act–right from the Internet. I’m all for privacy and whatnot–but not when it comes to things like this. This country has satellites and the technology to practically see into people homes…and yet we can’t monitor tip-sites or restrict the illegal sale of protective/military gear.
What happened in that school last week should have never happened. In my opinion, it could have been prevented. That’s what I believe. Now that information is being brought to light about the shooter–there were signs. Friends of the family and of the gunman’s mother are saying that the mother was aware that something wasn’t right with her son–and was reportedly considering having him committed. Granted, I don’t think she or those people could have known how evil his intentions were, let alone know that he’d do what he did, but still. There had to have been some signs…something. I mean, a person doesn’t just snap like that. A person doesn’t just wake up one morning and say “oh, I think I’ll kill my mother and then go shoot up an elementary school and kill 20 1st graders and 6 teachers today.” No, a person doesn’t just do that. And neither did the gunman. Investigators have already found evidence that blows that whole “he just snapped” theory right to hell–proving in fact that this was a planned, premeditated attack. It seems strange to me that no one picked up on what he was doing. It sounds mean, but I’m struggling to find sympathy for the gunman’s mother. I mean, naturally, I think it’s horrible and unfortunate that she was murdered–and by her own son, no less–but I can’t help but wonder what the hell she was thinking keeping all those weapons and ammunition in her home with a son that she herself feared was “losing touch with reality.” I get that people have some strange collecting hobbies…but guns? Why would anyone want to collect guns? Or the better question I think would be is why keep the bullets and ammunition WITH the guns? I don’t know if it’s true, but I remember reading somewhere that the mother was actually one of those apocalyptic nuts–and so that’s why she was stocking up with weapons and heavy artillery. For all we know, she could have been just as crazy as the psychologists are saying the gunman–her son–was. Who knows.
Anyhow…all those things considering, maybe it’s best that the world DOES end. I mean, if it’s this bad now–this screwed up–then I don’t even want to imagine what it’ll be like in a few years or ten or twenty. It’s not a really optimistic to thing to say…but I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse, as time goes by. I can’t speak for the rest of the world obviously, but I sure as hell don’t want to live in a world that has the potential to be worse than this one we’re living in. So in that regard…what the hell…BRING ON THE APOCALYPSE… 🙂
I swear, if I hear one more person say that guns are responsible for the tragic events that transpired on Friday or bitch and complain about gun laws and demand more restrictive policies, I’m going to scream. What the hell is wrong with people–using the deaths of 26 innocent lives to platform their damn lobbying…it’s so messed up. I’m dismayed and disgusted by it all, really I am. Twenty children were gunned down…6 and 7 year olds whose only misfortune was that they went to school that day. They didn’t ask for what happened to them. They didn’t ask for that sick bastard to barge into their school and their classrooms and cut their lives short that morning. They were innocent, beautiful little souls who had their entire lives ahead of them. The media have been posting pictures all day and each image is more heartbreaking than the previous one. 20 smiling faces that will be forever etched into the memory of everyone that turned on the TV or sat down to their computer that day, mine included. Each picture just makes me more angry. My anger, however, is NOT with these gun manufacturers or the NRA or lenient license policies and laws. My anger is directed where it should be, which is with the sonofabitch that pulled the trigger in that school that day. It makes me so mad that the ruthless bastard went and killed himself. He got off easy. His death was swift and painless–unlike some of his victims that suffered in those last final minutes and moments of their lives. Maybe it’s a horrible thing to say, but I wish he’d suffered. I wish that he’d had to lie there in his own pool of blood for hours–conscious the entire time–knowing that he was going to die. At least then there would have been some degree of justice for his victims and their families. He should have suffered lying there, plagued by the images of those children he’d shot, with those faces being the last thing he saw before he died. THAT would have been justice. But no, the sick jerk had to be a coward and take his own life. I don’t know if there’s such a thing as Hell, but if there is, I truly hope that he burns in it for the rest of time.
I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that something like this could happen–and how someone could do this, but I just can’t. I don’t understand it. I really don’t. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen. 20 first-graders and teachers aren’t supposed to be gunned down in an elementary school. It’s just not right. That there are psychology experts who are going around calling the gunman a victim and redirecting the blame towards the man’s mental health issues–it’s utterly appalling. I don’t care what’s being reported to the contrary…the man knew exactly what he was doing. I’m sure of it. I mean, this wasn’t some sudden or fly by act of violence. It was premeditated. He planned this. We might not know how long he was planning it…and we probably never will. Hell, we’ll probably never know his motive, for that matter. I know that people need answers…and that for some, those answers are all they have right now. To be honest, I could care less about his motive. There’s no reasoning or explanations for what he did. I don’t care if he was off his meds or had some personality disorder like they’re saying. I don’t care if he had a rough childhood or if his parents didn’t love him enough. I don’t care if he was an outcast or a geek in high school and had no friends. I don’t care if he was teased or bullied every day he went to school. I don’t care about any of those things. There’s no excuse that can even remotely come close to whatever his reasons were. None whatsoever. As for those psychologists and so-called experts–they can all shove it. To even suggest that his mental state might not have been stable at the time and THAT’s why he did what we did–is simply not true. He knew what he was doing. He didn’t just snap, like they’re saying. He planned this. He purchased ammunition and protective gear and drove to that school with the horrible intention of killing people. The suggestion that he was insane or irrational when he took 26 innocent lives…is total bs. I mean, come on. He was sane enough when he put on that bulletproof vest so that he wouldn’t get shot when the police arrived. He was sane enough to dress in nondescript clothing and wear a mask so that he couldn’t be seen. As far as I’m concerned, he wasn’t crazy. He was a pathetic and cowardly executioner.
As for these gun control lobbyists and protesters against the NRA–they all need to stop with all the scapegoating. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again…Guns don’t kill people. PEOPLE kill PEOPLE. It’s not the manufacturers fault that the guns they create sometimes end up in the hands of the wrong people. And it’s not the government’s fault that people are cold, heartless murderers who like to use guns as their weapon of choice. Do I agree that some things have to change and gun laws need to be amended–yes. I think it SHOULD be harder to get weapon permits and guns than the law is allows now. I think people’s backgrounds should be checked–thoroughly, that is–before they get the gun handed to them.
I’m not against guns, nor do I hate those that possess any. After all, it’s right there in the Bill of Rights…the freedom to bear arms. We, as citizens in this country, have a right to protect ourselves and our loved ones. Most of the time, that’s what people buy guns and use them for. It’s the select few–the cold-hearted bastards like the gunman in Newtown–that take advantage of that right and use weapons to carry out their evil shows of violence. Those people are the ones these lobbyists should be cracking down on and harassing. It wasn’t the guns that made the gunman do what he did. No one made him do it. For whatever reason, he chose it. He chose to pull the trigger–to steal innocent lives. He wasn’t crazy. He was a cold-blooded murderer. It would have to take a sick bastard like that to walk into an elementary school and gun down a bunch of first-graders. The man had no conscience, clearly. If he had, then he wouldn’t have done this. He wouldn’t have been able to stand there and fire multiple bullets into a 6 or 7 year old’s body. It’s just not human. Those kids did nothing to him. They didn’t deserve to die at his hand. If his life was that worthless and he was that miserable, then he should have just killed himself. He didn’t have to take 26 lives down with him. And the worst part of it all is that this is what he’s going to be remembered for–the man who shot up an elementary school and killed 26 people. He’ll go down in history–everyone will know his name. It’s horrible, but in time, people are eventually going to forget the names and the faces and stolen innocence of these victims. It’s not right. And it’s sure as hell not fair….at all.
Today could have been the next day of the rest of your life.
Not a day goes by, that I don’t think of you.
I’m always asking why
This crazy world had to lose such a ray of light…we never knew.
Such a beautiful life…we never knew.
Gone too soon. ~C.D.~~
I’ve been trying to find the right words since I turned on the TV this morning and heard the horrible news…but I honestly don’t know what to say. I think it’s because there really are no words…none that can do this tragedy justice, anyhow. Like the rest of the world, I’m in absolute shock that something like this could happen. It just seems too horrible to be real. Like a bad dream; one you can’t wake up from.
I’m trying really hard to understand how someone could do something like this…could just walk into an elementary school and take the lives of 26 people–20 of which were children. It’s unthinkable; unconscionable. I can’t understand how anyone could point a gun and murder twenty innocent 6 and 7-year-olds. My heart breaks for the victims and their families. All those parents that dropped their child off that morning–who hugged and kissed them goodbye…never knowing that it would be the last time they’d ever see their little boy or girl alive. Never knowing the hell that would be unleashed upon their world in just a couple mere hours later. No parent should ever have to bury their child–and especially not in this way–because of a senseless tragedy like this. All I can think about are those 20 little kids and how horrible it must have been for them in those last few moments. How scared and confused they must have been. It makes me sick just thinking about it. Not to mention, all those other children that were in that school that day and the teachers and staff that survived–how horrible it must have been them as well. I’ve listened to the interviews with some of the other teachers…how they had to hide their students in bathrooms and closets and room corners–not knowing whether they’d be next or if they’d make it out of that school alive. All those children are victims, too. Their innocent was stripped from them that day…far sooner than it ever should have been. Their lives will never be the same after this. They’re never going to forget the sound of gunfire in the halls that day or that fear they felt. They will never forget those images of the victims as they were led out of the building to safety.
Some of the videos and interviews that are being released to the public are truly sickening to watch. Appalling, really. There was one in particular that made me so angry–an interview of some woman psychology “expert”. She was commenting on the shooting and the shooter and essentially said that, while it was an unfortunate tragedy–it was simply just another picture of the face of mental illness. I had to stop watching it after she called the shooter, too, a victim–or I probably would have ended up throwing my computer at the wall in anger. I’m sorry, but I don’t care how screwed up or “mentally ill” a person is, it doesn’t excuse or justify a horrible act such as this. The individual responsible for this is no victim. He is a murderer, plain and simple. He was 20 years old–he knew right from wrong. He knew that what he was doing was wrong when he murdered his own mother, took her guns, drove to that school, and took the lives of 20 innocent children and 6 adults. He chose to commit murder–nothing and no one made him do it. He knew it was wrong…which is why he probably took his own life afterwards. As far as I’m concerned, he was nothing but a low-life coward. That’s all he was, and all he ever will be.
The way I see it–there was no justice in his death. None whatsoever. While there may be some consolation for the victims’ families and the survivors in that he’ dead–it not nearly enough. And it shouldn’t be. That man deserved to be punished for his crimes and to pay for what he did. He deserved to suffer, just as those little angels dd. Had he not killed himself, he probably would have gotten the death penalty. Or at the very least, would have spent the rest of his miserable, godforsaken life in a jail cell. It frustrates me to no end those individuals that oppose the death penalty…how they claim that it is cruel and inhumane. The way I see it, it’s not nearly as cruel and inhumane as it SHOULD be. People like the shooter–who walk into a classroom and open fire on 6 and 7 year olds…people that rape and abuse and murder children and women…people like that–they deserve to die an agonizingly slow, painful death. They don’t deserve any rights–legal or otherwise. I don’t give a damn if they served their time or are supposedly “rehabilitated”–they don’t deserve to walk free among the rest of society, or breathe the same air. It’s just not right. And it sure as hell isn’t fair. I don’t care what people say or how many case studies have been conducted that show evidence to the contrary…people like that don’t change. You can’t “rehabilitate” a rapist or child molester. There are some people on this earth that are just plain evil and always will be…who don’t deserve to live. The legal system in this country is just so messed up and useless that it’s sickening. We protect and house and feed these criminals–these animals–these monsters…all the time. We allow them the right to legal counsel and one appeal right after another. We keep them on death row for years and provide them a swift, painless death in the end. Tell me, how the hell is that fair to the victims? The answer is…it isn’t. People don’t know the hell that a victim of rape/abuse goes through. Even if you choose and are brave enough to report it, there’s still the chance that nothing will be done. Meanwhile, you’ve endured the painstakingly slow process of a rape kit. Television doesn’t give you an accurate picture of what it’s like. In reality, it’s far worse. As if being raped isn’t bad enough, you then have to go through hours of being poked and prodded and swabbed–the whole time just wanting to go home and get clean, to erase the scent of him and scrub away the memory of the touch of his hands on you, You have to tell your story over and over again–reliving each and every moment of it. Even if you manage to get to a trial…it’s still not over. Most of the time, it just makes things even worse. You have to, yet again, tell a courtroom of people and a jury your story…each and every little detail. You have to face the person who did it…see that evil in his eyes again.
If you’re lucky, the jury might believe you and give you a conviction. If not, then you’re probably going to end up having done it all in vain. And all that hell you went through…suddenly doesn’t mean a thing. A lot of the time it comes down to a matter of he said/she said and it’s just your word against him and no one believes you. Worse, you have to sit there and be belittled and verbally attacked by the defense counsel–who use your sexual history to paint you as being a slut. I mean, where’s the justice for the victims? He gets a slap on the wrist or a couple of years in jail,,,whereas your life will never be the same. Which is so damn unfair, if you ask me. It’ll never be enough to make it okay. Never.
Then there’s the politics of it all. I try to stay clear of them because I don’t agree with a lot of the points that are made. The ones that people are making about this shooting included. Since it happened, people have been pointing the blame in this at gun control and ineffective laws. Personally, I don’t think this tragedy has anything to do with gun control–contrary to what a lot of people might think. It’s like when people say “guns don’t kill people…people kill people.” Which is exactly what happened here. Granted, I don’t know why the mother of the shooter felt the need to have three guns in her home. One should have been plenty, after all. Still, the blame belongs to the shooter and he alone. A gun didn’t make him do it. HE did it himself. He chose to pull that trigger.
Something like this just goes to show how truly messed up this world is. And how cruel and destructive and cowardly people are. This isn’t the first time something like this happened. You would think we’d have done something to change it…but we haven’t. At least, not enough that matters. That this has happened before only makes it worse and more screwed-up than it already is. I still remember Columbine and how horrible it was–though I was still pretty young at the time. I remember thinking that it didn’t seem real…and certain that that nothing like that would ever happen in my town or in my school. Those things just don’t happened. They aren’t supposed to.
The little kids…it breaks my heart that they’ll never grow up. That they’ll never have a childhood or learn to ride a bike or play in Little League. They’ll never have their high school graduation. Or go to college. They’ll never have a career or the chance to change the world. They’ll never fall in love and get married or have families of their own. Now they’ll never know. In the seconds that it takes to pull a trigger, they had their lives taken from them far too soon.
Tonight, there are 26 sets of families grieving the loss of their children and loved ones. And it’s just not fair….
May they all rest in peace.
Charlotte Bacon, 6
Daniel Barden, 7
Olivia Engel, 6
Josephine Gay, 7
Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 6
Dylan Hockley, 6
Madeleine F. Hsu, 6
Catherine V. Hubbard, 6
Chase Kowalski, 7
Jesse Lewis, 6
James Mattioli, 6
Grace McDonnell, 7
Emilie Parker, 6
Jack Pinto, 6
Noah Pozner, 6
Caroline Previdi, 6
Jessica Rekos, 6
Aviele Richman, 6
Benjamin Wheeler, 6
Allison N. Wyatt, 6
Dawn Hochsprung, 47
Rachel Davino, 29
Anne Marie Murphy, 52
Lauren Rousseau, 30
Mary Sherlach, 56
Victoria Soto, 27
Well, the bestie and I made it to and from NYC…barely–and by that I just mean that it was a bit of an adventure…
For starters, we missed our train. TWICE. Neither of us went to bed the night before, so it was interesting morning as we drove down early to Poughkeepsie to catch our train into Grand Central Station. We started out earlier than we originally planned, so we shouldn’t have had to worry about missing our train…only we’re us and for some reason, nothing ever quite goes as we plan. Despite the Garmin AND printed out driving directions, we somehow managed to We ending up having to double-back a little ways and so the little delay caused us to miss the train. We caught the next one though so it was all good. It was my first time being on a train, which was exciting. I mean, I’ve been on a few planes before, but never the train. We’ve always just drove the other times we’ve gone down, so the scenic route was a nice change of pace.
We arrived in Grand Central on time though, which was good. It being my first time in Grand Central as well–it was pretty amazing. The place was huge and busy and absolutely beautiful…and far more awesome in person than it is in the movies. It reminded me of the Minneapolis airport from back when I went to Hawaii years ago…so busy and chaotic and almost like a city in and of itself. Once there, we walked around and did a little exploring…a test of sorts for ourselves to see if we could get around okay–sans the whole “tourist” persona. Surprisingly, we didn’t do too bad. We checked out the Upper West Side a little and had lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe in Times Square. I’ve, of course, been to the ones in Hawaii and Canada, but it was the bestie’s first time at one so she was excited. It was better than the other ones though. It as huge and incredible and we had our pics taken with some pretty awesome guitars. The food was good and we had the best server waiting on us. We explained how we were they’re looking at places in preparation for the move down there next month and the guy was pretty helpful. He literally talked to us about it for like 20 minutes at one point, giving us pointers about the best neighborhoods to live in and whatnot.
From there, we hopped on the express train over to Astoria, only a ten minute ride or so–which wasn’t bad. From the moment we left the subway platform, we were enchanted. The server that suggested it to us was right on the money when it came to the area. It was so pretty and peaceful and so quiet. It was nothing like Manhattan–which was one of the biggest perks about the place. As much as we loved the idea of living in the Upper West Side or even right in Manhattan–we fell in love with Astoria. Unlike Manhattan, it felt like such a safe place to walk around and live in. It’s more residential so it’s not nearly as crowded or chaotic. Almost immediately we decided that we could easily picture ourselves living there. The population is geared mostly towards our age group and the younger generation, which is perfect for us. The commute is perfect as well–what with the only one train ride right into Times Square and Midtown. Seeing how that’s where both our jobs are going to be…it works out nicely.
From our leisurely stroll through Astoria, we went back to Times Square–before then heading out to Brooklyn to meet up with a friend my friend used to work with that now lives in Brooklyn. The trip got a little interesting at that point in that we got a little screwed up–thanks in part to subway changes and wrong travel directions from transit cops and other subway travelers. After we finally made it Brooklyn, we ended up getting lost and literally walking nearly the entire stretch of Brooklyn. We eventually reached our destination and met up with the person…albeit a couple of hours later than we planned. We hung out at the Tea Lounge for a bit–which turned out to be a little coffee-house/bar/live jazz music joint…which was kind of nice.
Things got a little tricky after that. We left Brooklyn with what would have been enough time to get back to Grand Central…had we not gotten stuck on the subway for almost a half hour with track issues–along with a couple sketchy characters, I might add. This one guy was for some reason convinced that my friend and I were the “chosen ones” is his delusional “end of the world” prophecy. If nothing else, the subway is quite an interesting place to be…that’s for sure. Anyhow, we literally had to run through Grand Central like bats outta hell to catch the train back to Poughkeepsie. Not surprising, we still missed our train by a few minutes. So, we ended up having to take a later train about an hour later which kind of sucked–but again, totally figures.
All in all, it was a pretty good day-trip. We accomplished a lot, which is good. Of the trip, I think the train and car ride home stands out most. The bestie and I had a really great conversation. I think we talked more in those few hours since we have in years–since that horrible 11-month friendship hiatus included. We discussed the recent situation with our guy-friend Ryan, who informed us a couple of weeks ago of his intention to back from Dallas this weekend. We mentioned the move next month and suggested that he came with us. It seemed like a great idea at first and at the time…and now–not so much. Sure, it would be great if he came with us–if for no other reason than to have that “guy presence” to rely on if necessary. But…he has a history of being flaky when it comes to things like this. Over the years, he’s had to have said he was moving back a least a dozen or so different times…and hasn’t. He swears that he’s going to do it this time. That he’s really moving back. I guess we’ll find out if he actually shows up this weekend like he says and go from there. Even if he does, it doesn’t mean much. Now, he says he’s going to go with us…but who knows what he’s going to do. Personally, I don’t think he’s going to do it. I mean, he’s moving back–so he’s probably going to wait some time to settle back in and works things out. So we talked about and considered maybe pushing the move back a couple of weeks. I mean, we could probably do it…but we both agreed that we really didn’t want to wait. Before this Ryan thing, we were doing good and had things planned out. His involvement pretty much puts a wrench in all those plans though. Postponing a couple of weeks wouldn’t really change anything or be hard to do. It’d give the bestie more time with this guy that she’s been seeing recently who things are going really well right now…and give me more time with my family. So yeah, we technically could do it….but we don’t want to.
I just really don’t want to wait, and neither does the bestie. We’re both just so sick and tired of putting our lives on hold for everyone. Now, we just want to do us. It’s time. We had a really good and serious heart to heart about it actually. She asked me what one reason I would have if I were to hold off. It’d probably be my family. I mean, this whole moving away is really hard. It’s going to be tough…the living so far away from them. This will be my first time being away from them as much as I will be, so it’s not going to be easy. I’m pretty sure the first few weeks are going to be hell, not to mention that I’ll probably end up bawling my eyes out the day we leave. Yep.
But I’m going to do it. I have to do it. Like I told her, I need this. I need to get away from here and what’s happened. Away from all the drama and the bad parts. I just want a fresh start, a chance to start over. I want to take back my life, the one that was taken from me 3 years ago. It’s really hard and complicated…which is why I was kind of hesitant when she asked me what it was that was holding back. It’s not just one thing…it’s a lot of little things.
I nearly started crying right there on the train when she asked me. It took everything I had to hold back the tears. It’s not just my family. I wish it was…that it were that simple. But it’s a lot of other things. HE’s part of it. I didn’t want to tell her that…all things considered. Mostly because I hate how pathetic and humiliating it sounds, even to me. I know I should be over it…and that it shouldn’t still be affecting me, but it does. As much as I hate to admit it, I feel like I’m running away again. And in a lot of ways, I am. It sounds so childish, but this is my town. The place that I call home. The place where I used to feel safe. Like so much else, he’s taken that too. I hate him so much for that. I hate that he’s still here…that there’s a good chance that I’ll probably see him around or run into him at some point. It’s harsh, but I don’t want to see him…ever again. I don’t want to be reminded of all that happened or how foolish I was. But more than anything, I don’t want to feel all that anger and resentment and bitterness that I feel for him. I hate him so damn much…and I feel horrible because of it. All the hate and the bitterness…that’s not me. At least, it wasn’t…until he showed up. He made me this way and I hate him for that. So much.
I have this journal that I kept that first year. It’s like 365 letters, one a day…each one addressed to him. In the beginning, I had this crazy notion that I’d send it to him one day…let him know just what it was exactly that he walked away from. At the time, I was convinced that it would be the ultimate revenge–having him learn the truth that way…and the great satisfaction it’d give me in knowing that he couldn’t do a damn thing about it or to me….getting back at him for all the hell he’d caused me. I wanted him to suffer…the way I suffered. I wanted him to hurt…like I was hurting that year. It took me a really long time to realize how wrong it would have been to send it to him, but I eventually did. I finally realized that sending him the journal would have made me no better than him. I refused to stoop that low. As tempted as I was…I just couldn’t go through with it. I don’t know why I’ve even bothered to keep it anymore…after all this time. I should have thrown it out years ago, but for some reason, I just couldn’t. I haven’t touched it since that last entry. I couldn’t bear to…to relive that darkness again. It’s a period in my life that I’m not proud of…even if it did teach me so much. Now it just sits on my bookshelf with all the others…collecting dust. I think once I get to New York, I’ll just burn it…to close that chapter of my life once and for all. But for now, just knowing that I’ve moved on–that I’m not that girl who filled those pages–is enough for me. I didn’t think it would be, but it is.
Maybe I am running from HIM and the past…but I just feel like I have no other choice. I can’t stay here, hiding out and putting my life on hold because of these ridiculous fears of seeing him again. I don’t want to feel ashamed of my actions, or feel guilty for my decisions as to where he’s concerned. I just need to get away from here; to get out. I feel smothered here…like I can’t breathe. I’m not going to lie…this whole moving to NYC scares the hell out of me. I’m not the big-city type. I’m more of a small-town, simple life kind of girl. I’m scared of what will happen when I get there…of how I’ll feel. I’m scared that I’ll miss home and my family too much. I’m scared that I’ll lose who I am. I’m scared of failing…that I won’t make it there. Mostly, I’m scared that I’m making a mistake by leaving…that by the time I realize it, it’ll be too late. Worse–I’m scared that if I do this, then I’ll never stop running. That I’ll spend the rest of my life running from my problems and my past–and that I’ll miss out on all the great parts because of it.
I just want what everyone wants…to be happy. I want my dreams to come true…to know that I made them happen and deserve the success. I want to find someone. To believe in love again. I want to fall so hard that it hurts…and know that it’s real and that it’s worth it. I want to stop blaming and punishing all the men in my life for his sins and for what he did. I want everything. I can’t have that if I’m here because HERE is where it still hurts. Here is where it all happened. I can’t open up here or let anyone in. I’m so screwed up…still…that I walked away from one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. A nice, truly incredible guy that cared and never asked me for anything other than for me to let him in…all the way. I think I could have loved him…if only I had let myself. But I couldn’t…not while I was still here.
I feel like this is something I HAVE to do. And that if I don’t do it now, I never will. And maybe I’ll fail. But then, maybe I won’t. It’s just a chance that I have to take, I guess. Even if it doesn’t work out…I’ll at least know that I tried. And that, for me, is enough for right now. It has to be…
Can’t write too much…as I should have called it a night like oh…hours ago. So much on my mind at the moment though, so sleep is far off. The bestie and I are leaving in the morning…like 6 hours from now actually 🙂 …and heading to the city to check out some apartments in the Upper West Side….Manhattan….oh yeah. This is all really happening…and I think it’s finally starting to sink in…
I’m excited…sooo very excited…but a little over-whelmed, too. It’s just that I’ve always had this tendency to jump in the deep end…without really thinking things through too much…and not caring really if I can swim or not. And now that this is all happening…it’s just….it’s a lot. That’s all. I’m leaving. It sounds so foreign when I say it…admit it…but I am. And I know I probably sound like such a dork…but I’m scared. Terrified, really. I’m leaving everything I’ve ever known…everything that feels safe…and going to a place that is so out of my element, that it’s not even funny.
Now that it’s actually happening…and it’s getting close to moving day…my family’s changing their tune; starting to realize that I’m serious and that in three weeks and a couple days…I’m gone. And they aren’t liking that whole reality too much. My grams got me crying the other day when she asked me to wait and re-consider….to really think about my decision. She asked me if it was really what I wanted. I couldn’t lie to her…I’ve never been able to with her…so I just stood there, tears streaming down my face…shaking my head. Do I want to go? Yes. And no. It’s really hard to explain. I mean, do I want to leave my family and everything I have here? Of course not. God, I don’t even want to think about how hard it’s going to be come January 5th and we have the U-Haul packed and ready to go. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a tear-fest. Actually, I’m sure of it. It’s going to be so hard and I honestly wish I could just skip over that part, because it’s going to be hell. So again, do I want to go? No.
But I have to. I have to do this for myself…and for them. I need to do something with myself and my life…and I need to chase my dreams. What I want to do–I can’t do here. And I want to be happy, more than anything. And I’m not happy here. I mean, I have my family and my friends…but I feel like there’s more…and that I need to leave if I’m going to find it. I need to get away…I mean, really get away…to start over. I can’t do that here. I feel like I’ve been walking on glass the past three years…and in a lot of ways, I have been. Because of HIM yes, but also because of me. What happened…it hurt, so much. And as much as I hate to admit it, it changed me. I’m not who I was three years ago. I feel like I haven’t really been living these 3 years. I mean, I wake up each day and I’m breathing…but that’s all it is. I smile, but I’m not happy. I’m hurting…but I feel nothing. He did that and I hate him so much for that…for making me feel like I was nothing and for making me feel like life isn’t worth living. God, I hate him so much for that. But I hate myself more…for letting him make me feel that way. If I stay…it’s like he’s won, you know? And he already took so much…I won’t give him that. It’s bad enough that I let him push me into a corner and stopped living my life. It’s bad enough that I let him humiliate me, even after the fact. He destroyed so much…but not anymore. I’m done living in the past. I’m done being afraid of him learning the truth. I’m done staying in, because I’m afraid of ever seeing him out. I want my life back…and I can’t do that if I stay here. I’m 25 years old. I want to live again. I want to go out and have fun, like I used to. I’m sick of punishing myself for sins that aren’t mine. And I’m sick of all the anger…of being so bitter. I don’t want to hate him anymore. I don’t want to remember. I want to forget him…forget everything that ever happened. I wish I’d never met him. I mean that, truly. He broke my heart. He crushed my soul. But he didn’t break me. Not yet. And if leaving prevents him from finishing the job…then that’s what I have to do. So do I want to go? No. But I hate to go. I need to go. I need this…I need a fresh start.
This is my dream. My world. My life. And it’s going to hurt. Hell, it already does…and I haven’t even left yet. But I have to believe that there’s more than just this place, this life. More than these tainted, horrible memories. And maybe this is me jumping in the deep end again…maybe. But the good thing about being broken…about being numb…is that it only gets better. And it does. Life is going to be amazing. I know it.
So here’s to new beginnings and a new life…jumping in…and just breathing it all in.
Til next time…
Cannot believe I’m only just NOW hearing the lyrics to this song, but yeah. It’s called “DEAR JOHN“…and I swear, it’s perfection.
Thank you Taylor Swift…yet again. 🙂
Long were the nights when my days once revolved around you.
Counting my footsteps, praying the floor won’t fall through…again.
And my mother accused me of losing my mind,
But I swore—
I. Was. Fine.
You paint me a BLUE sky and go back and turn it to rain.
And I lived in your chess game, but you changed the rules every day.
Wondering which version of you I might get on the phone tonight.
Well, I stopped picking up and this song is to let you know why…
Dear John, I see it all now that you’re gone.
Don’t you think I was too young to be messed with?
The girl in the dress, cried the whole way home.
I should’ve known.
Well maybe it’s me and my blind optimism to blame.
Or maybe it’s you and your SICK need to give love and take it away.
And you’ll add my name to your long list of traitors who don’t understand.
And I’ll look back and regret how I ignored them when they said:
“Run as fast as you can.”
Dear John, I see it all now, it was wrong.
Don’t you think  is too young to be played by your dark, twisted games…
When I loved you so?
I should’ve known.
You are an expert at sorry.
And keeping lines blurry.
Never impressed by me acing your tests.
All the girls that you run dry with tired, lifeless eyes
’cause you burned them out.
But I took your matches before fire could catch me.
So don’t look now…
I’m shining like fireworks over your sad, empty town.
Dear John, I see it all now that you’re gone.
Don’t you think I was too young to be messed with?
The girl in the dress cried the whole way home.
I see it all now that you’re gone.
Don’t you think I was too young to be messed with?
The girl in the dress wrote you a song.
You should’ve known.
You should’ve known.
Don’t you think I was too young?
You should have known.
I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN…