446 School Age Children Shot in Chicago so far this Year–

This isn’t about guns. It’s about society and it’s about how pissed I am at the Left and the Right over the response to the Newtown tragedy last week. 

Let’s begin with that number again–446 school age children were shot in Chicago this year. 446! 446!!! I wish I could caps lock numbers. Did you get that? One more time– 446 school age children were shot in Chicago this year. Why aren’t we pissed about that? Why aren’t we up in arms about that number? If that’s not a massacre, what the hell is?

This is going to sound insensitive and I don’t care. I’m sick of children dying but I’m really sick of the arbitrary rules that govern what dead children are worth talking about. 446 children die in Chicago and these are poor children and I’ll say it–black children or at least predominantly black. These children are mostly inner city kids and I can promise they saw unspeakable horrors in their lives long before someone ended their life in gunfire.

What I don’t get, what’s been keeping me up at night is why does the death of 22 wealthy, predominantly white children in Newtown, CT set off the gun debate? Why are there ribbons and memorials all over the country for these children but not for the kids in Chicago? Does it come down to race or money? Why are we crying for this tragedy and not the tragedy that happens every damn day in Chicago?

Why? Why? WHY? I’m pissed over it and I don’t even know exactly why. Why is this the tragedy that is going to get Congress moving? And let me clarify, I don’t want to see ANY changes to gun laws, I’m just trying to figure out why Obama cried on national television because 20 white kids died while 446 black kids died in Chicago this year alone?

Can anyone explain it to me please? I’m trying really hard to understand here.

Broken Heart for Connecticut

I’m an alumni of Virginia Tech. I was sitting in my senior World Lit class in high school on April 16, 2007. I had friends at Tech. I remember the silence over the room and then the tears. I hate crying in front of people but that day I laid my head on the desk and sobbed. I’d been accepted early decision in December 2006. I was a friend of Hokies and I too was a Hokie. I felt like my heart was breaking. It was the most terrifying moment of my life–even more than September 11. That was far away in New York, Virginia Tech was going to be my home in a few short months. 

My friends were safe, changed but safe. Everyone changed. My boyfriend’s brother was a sophomore that year. He was rushing to his way to class in Norris (where the shootings were) but heard shots and ran back to his dorm. He was late for class so he got to live. He now carries his pistol everywhere. He doesn’t feel safe without it. And I can’t say I blame him.

 

The Aurora shootings were a nightmare too. Children were hurt but not like last Friday. Last Friday I heard about the shootings and tuned it out. I worked 12 hours and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t think about children full of bullet holes. I pushed through Friday and then waited until the end of the weekend to jump into the gun debate.

But then today someone posted an article about how it might have been a conspiracy theory and I considered it. It’s strange how few survivors there were but then Brendan looked it up and told me that the shooter “double tapped” the kids. He shot one boy 8 times…8 times…8 bullet holes in his little body…

And I lost it. It’s been about an hour so I’m not sobbing anymore, just covered in tears and my heart is broken all over again. I want to have children. I want to bring a life into this fucked up world and I’m terrified. I don’t know that I can do it. A school should be a safe place and it’s not anymore. Now it’s not a safe haven.

 

What now? What do we do now? Do we ban guns? Do we label all Autistic people as murderers and don’t let them buy guns? Do we make mental health a priority? Do we start teaching our kids responsibility and the value of a life?

Let’s talk about guns for starters. Guns don’t kill people. People kill people. Once a person has sat down and decided they are going to kill people, they’ll do it. You can take away guns but look at the Oklahoma City Bombings. He used fertilizer and wood. He found a way. look at September 11. They used planes and small make-shift weapons. These are two great tragedies we lived through and there were no guns. Friday’s tragedy involves guns, yes, but guns are not the common denominator in these three tragedies–evil, sick, mentally ill people are. Or in the case of September 11, religiously brainwashed people (also a mental illness, I think).

 

There are evil people in this world. There are people that decide there life is worth nothing and that their sole purpose in life is to murder innocent people. We cannot stop them by banning guns, knives, baseball bats, or fertilizer. We can try to stop them by being responsible.

The most important step starts at home. Raise your damn kids right. Stop trying to tell them nothing is their fault. Don’t tell them it’s McDonald’s fault they’re fat asses. Don’t tell them it’s the teacher’s fault they fail math. Stop it. Stop all of that. Your kid is fat because you feed them shit food and they’re failing because they’re stupid, lazy brats that you continue to enable. You’re enabling your kids to be worthless. Good job. 

Now we have a generation of kids that think they’re worthless and that they are worthless because of everyone in the world but them. Then your kid walks into an elementary school and murders 27 people. This is what’s wrong with the world. This, this, this, and this again.

 

I’ll keep my guns, thanks. And you be a fucking parent. 

 

This somber post turned into a rant. I’d apologize but that would mean I was sorry for how it ended and I’m not. It needs to be said. It’s needs to be screamed from the rooftops. I don’t want my children to die like the poor babies in Connecticut. I want them to live in a world of mature adults that know that there is no one responsible for you but you. That’s my Christmas wish–that people take responsibility and teach their children to do the same. We can all wish for peace on Earth but if this shit keeps going on, we’ll never come close.

Life is Fleeting…

Today I woke up early to do homework. I was doing well until my computer crashed a few times, no big deal, I disabled the internet and was able to type my paper without further problem. I was using my phone for any internet data I needed for my paper when I took a Facebook break expecting to hear people complaining about their stupid, insignificant problems. What I didn’t expect to find was that my good friend Bob from work passed away suddenly from a heart attack yesterday. I was so numb at first and then I just started crying. I showered for about an hour then just slept for three hours because I didn’t want to think anymore.

 

Bob was a late night driver with me all last school year. We worked together at least three or four nights a week. He was also a small business owner. He owned a gun shop called Bullet Bob’s and a loan company. He quit work early last summer because his business was finally doing well enough for him to quit driving. I called him two weeks ago because I was planning on buying a handgun in a month or so. I told him Brendan and I would be in the shop before Christmas. I’m sure his shop will still be there, but I am also sure that after he died in his shop last night I won’t be able to ever set foot in it again.

Bob was a great man with a big heart. He loved everyone and never met a stranger. When I was new at BT, he welcomed me in with open arms and made me feel like a part of the team from the start. He was only 51 and while I’ll never understand why the Good Lord took him away so soon, I know that he’s in Paradise tonight.

Rest in Peace, Bob.

 

Today’s life lesson was that life is precious but also fleeting. This is the toughest lesson to learn because we always learn in the hard way. I’ve lost more friends than I feel like I should have at 23 years old. I lost my good friend Ted earlier this year. He was only 65 years young and was like a surrogate father to me in Blacksburg. Two years ago I lost my friend Wilson. He died in a car accident after he returned home to Hong Kong. An oil truck ran into the car he was riding in on the way to a business meeting and he died before they ever pulled him out of the vehicle. He was only 25. Before that my friend Morgan Dana Harrington went missing from a concert in Charlottesville. We all waited for her to come home and after a few months passed, we started to wait for her body. They finally found her body on a farm outside of Charlottesville. And when I was nineteen my childhood friend Jennifer passed away quietly in her sleep and no one knows why. We never found out why.

All these friends I have loved and I mourn. Whenever I think about Wilson especially I feel like I can’t breathe. And sometimes when I look up at a beautiful sky all I can think is that his heart’s not beating anymore, he’s not out there somewhere living and laughing like I remember him. He used to ask me to visit him in Hong Kong, but I refused to let him pay for me. I’ll always wish I would have made that trip, that I would have taken him up on the offer and seen him one last time. For a long time he was the guy that got away and then he was just plain gone. I think I’ll always miss him and all the friends I’ve lost.

 

Only the good die young, that’s what they say, but I think the good die all the time. Good people die at 100 and it doesn’t make sense. My great grandmother died in March. She was 99 years old and it still felt too soon. I just have to keep believing that God has a plan even if I don’t understand it right now, he has to have a plan for us and for me.

Heaven has a plan for me or at least, I hope it does.

Long Week…

It’s been a long week. B was in one of his low moods and decided we needed to break up.

Why?

I’m still not sure, and neither is he. He acted at one point like he was doing me a favor, like he was holding me back because he was so far behind me in school–which is a stupid reason. I wear my big girl pants and know what’s best for me. And he’s upset that I work 45 hours a week to fully support myself (like I always have) while he relies on his parents. Then he was also depressed for some unknown reason. Etc.

So when I started to pack my shit to go, he decided he didn’t want me to go. So I stayed because I love him more than words and so that’s enough for me to stay. Sometimes I wonder if we’re going to make it. I know what I want and see how he is and I don’t know. But I can’t love him this much for nothing. So I stay. I think I’ll always stay.

And then, of course, grad school. I’ve been so unproductive today that I want to punch myself in the face. I wrote out a list of things I need to do and opened a blank word document but that’s about it. Successful, right? I just want to sleep for like a week and then get back to working and school 24-7.

Good news? We are still having amazing make-up sex every few hours. Can’t complain about that.