I’ve been described as ‘fundamentally angry’ before, a description that, on reflection, is very true. I don’t know if I’m still angry, following the Nice attack. I’m sickened and sad and bewildered and – I think I’m still angry, actually.

I don’t understand.

I think of all these lives, all these unfulfilled dreams and hopes and lives, all these children, and I am pissed.

It’s more than the slight niggling feeling when something irritates you. It’s a fire. It’s consuming. It’s confusing.

We need – I don’t know what we need. This is just yet another blog post about this tragedy, yet another voice added to the swirl of rising voices online. Who’s going to listen to me? I feel like I want to do something, like I should do something. But what?

I was up late last night writing, and saw the drama unfold on Twitter. First it was ten deaths, then sixty, then eighty. I can’t stop thinking about all the lives lost.

So sad. So desperately, desperately tragic.



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