I Stopped Reading After Newtown

When a friend texted me last night to share some information on the demographics of the victims of the recent Orlando night club shooting, I was amazed to find that I had known practically nothing about the details of this deadly tragedy. All I knew was that another motherfucker went crazy and shot a bunch of people in Orlando...again.

It's not that I don't care... I do. It's just that Newtown broke me. And it keeps breaking me. Every time another one of these shootings happens, I break again. I go back to Newtown, to twenty first graders and their valiant teachers, and wonder what in the world went wrong that these children weren't enough to change things in this nation.

So I had to stop reading and listening after Newtown. When I hear of another shooting, I find myself putting up my shield again...and thinking of the children...and breaking...and wondering what the fuck? I don't attack the web for details and information. Knowing everything doesn't change anything...at least not for me...not during these times. Sometimes I catch something on NPR, and I might let myself listen...a little...an interview with a mother...who is now broken...forever.

The gunman keeps winning.