TWITL – week twenty-three – HEAVY HEART

frustration
rage
helplessness
wave after wave
with every breath
horror
tears
crushing
relentlessly battering
the soul
the darkness so bleak
even with morning so bright
how to rise again
seek the light
feel the love
when every beat
comes from a heavy heart

There are no words to waking up this morning to horrific news. Glued to the tv because of such an act of hate, wanting to know more, helpless and heartbroken. It makes no sense. People will blame guns or religion. Some of it will be right, some of it will be wrong. All I keep thinking is that those people in that club were there to be joyful, to have fun, to LOVE and do no harm to anyone. They were singing and dancing and laughing and some fucked up piece of wasted breath went in there and shot them down. Why? Because he was so screwed in the head that any expression of love filled him with hate? I ask, if he did this in the name of some god, what kind of god allows for the calculated murder of people who were doing nothing wrong? No real god advocates or encourages HATE. If you truly believe in a higher power, in god or the gods, he or she or they do not encourage this kind of sick behavior. No, if they are truly a higher power, they want you at peace, in balance, appreciative of everything. This is what I believe.

Yes, I want to know why someone would do such a thing. It’s morbid and sick but I want to know how someone thinks killing a whole bunch of people somehow makes this world a better place. Did the people he know condone this? Were they all blind to his insanity? Did they think he didn’t have it in him to carry out the obvious violence living in him?

And how much did WE play a part in creating this monstrous event? How much did the people he lived with or grew up with have a hand in feeding his sickness? Somewhere along the way we’ll probably find out he was radicalized and everyone will throw their hands up and say it was someone else’s problem. But what if he was shunned somewhere along the line because of who he was or who people thought he was and his desperate and sick mind was then nurtured by other sick and desperate minds? Because really, have you not ever wondered how it starts?

But more than anything I want to know are the names of the fallen. I want to know see their faces, learn their stories, cry again and again at the utter injustice of their lights extinguished in such a horrible way. I want to know their struggles and their joys and the people they touched. I want them to be remembered. I want the killer’s name and his motivations OBLITERATED by the love and joy of the fallen. I want to read the memories of their families and friends. I want to hear more of the selflessness of those who survived and helped the others. I want people to truly stand with each other in love, to live their days ahead with joy.

Nothing pisses off the haters more than when you spread love and joy…