Wounded

Listen to this post. That’s all I have to say just now. Listen.

It’s been a couple of weeks now and I’m still working out how I feel. I’m not simply angry, although anger is there. I’m tired too, but that’s not the feeling causing me the most distress. In my last post I wrote that I’m hurt, but even that now feels insufficeint. The news and and social media is exacerbating the problem, but like a train wreck, I can’t turn away. I’m drawn to the discussions, the posts and the news. I’m drawn to it because it’s happening and it’s happening all around me; it’s happening to me. I’m searching for something in it all that I can make sense of. And turning off, or blaming the media, either network or social, makes me feel like the child talking loud chibberish with his fingers in his ears, trying not to hear what he already knows. It’s also disingenuous. It’s escapism. There…

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