There's so much I wanna say right now, today. There's been so much I've pondered since Saturday night, that I don't feel I've arrived at the best vehicle for blogging just yet however.
I'm still sad, but I have a luxury that Sybrina Fulton and Tracy Martin do not have, the ability to move past sad. They never will.
Not that I'm not angry exactly, and who wouldn't be, but I feel it more as disappointment and despair. You're not supposed to be able to have a license to hunt people in our society, but evidently a portion of our population has just that. And you certainly should never be the hunted, but that seems to exist as well. It's disheartening, terrifying, and so ridiculously unnecessary as to defy logic...and ethics...and human-ness.
I'm going to continue to collect my thoughts and develop my anger through rage then, hopefully, into constructive action. That seems to be the way to handle this miscarriage of "justice". If I write anymore now, today, it's going to come out wrong or incomplete or misguidedly arrogant. It's gonna devolve into vitriol and there's bloody well enough of that in our world already. I don't want to add to the hate in this precious child's name.
But I very much want to add to the truth. We need to and we WILL have The Conversation in this country because our future, our children, and our souls depend upon it, the Fulton-Martin family deserves it, and making positive change in the face of unthinkable horror (and thereby retaining our sanity) demands it.
Watch this space...
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