For France

Goddammit. Motherfuckery fuckety fuck. What in the ever loving fuck is the matter with this world?

September 11^th was the first time I remember feeling terrified for the world. It was the first seeds of thought that translated to “I am never safe.”

Being at work. Being at school. Pumping gas. Driving down the road. Sitting in a movie theater. Sitting in a stadium.

“I am never safe.”

Murder in the name of gods that would never condone these actions. Murder in the name of love. Murder in the name of politics. Murder in the name of insanity. Murder in the name of an antiquated belief that one’s skin, one’s gender, one’s sexuality, one’s beliefs, one’s religion, one’s politics, is somehow justified.

How did we get here?

When I worked the sixth step, I began to develop empathy. You know what? Fuck you, empathy. I don’t need this shit. I don’t want to feel the terror and the tears and the pain of an entire country that is under attack right now.

Insanity. This world is full of insanity.

There is so much pain. So much suffering. So much starvation and homelessness and sickness and addiction and death. This world is already so broken without us breaking it further, one bullet at a time.

If you have enough weapons, you can bring an entire country to its knees.

What to do? What can I do?

I do believe in the power of prayer. I have faith in the power of prayer. My feed is covered now with messages of Pray for France. And yes. Do that. Take a moment, bow your head or raise it to the sky and ask whatever Power you believe in to take away the pain and the fear and the suffering. Bring peace to France. End this attack.

And it will end. Maybe because of prayer. Maybe not. Maybe it’s just a silly superstition, like throwing salt over your shoulder. It will end because more men with more guns will end it. No telling how many more people will die before that happens, but it will end.

And once it’s over, they will rebuild. And everything will go back to exactly the same as it was, except it won’t. There will be more fear. And more hatred. And more blame. 

That’s what causes the most rage in me right now. The futility of it all. Tragedy happens, and we up the defenses against more tragedy. But there is ALWAYS another attack. There is ALWAYS another insane monster. There is ALWAYS another terrorist group.

We take our shoes off at the airport. We walk through metal detectors to enter schools. I went to the Social Security office today and they searched my bag. Nothing we do can stop the insanity of this world.

What can I do?

How to find love in my heart? How to find peace? How to find tolerance and acceptance and forgiveness? How to sleep at night?

I have no fucking idea.

This isn’t working. You see, when I’m full of emotion like I am this second, I sit and I write and I find the peace. I find the solution. I find the spiritual principle. The moral of the story. The positive message. Then I am whole and I can face the darkness that our world has become yet again.

I can find no happy ending to this fairytale. I wish I could.

All I can say is that although not a single person in France even knows I exist, let alone will read these words, I am sorry that this is your reality right now. I would take away your fear if I could. I love you. You are not alone. Help is coming. This night will end. You will know peace once again. Just hold on.

Maybe if we could all just give ourselves that message, and truly hear it, this world could start to change. Maybe