I Don’t Have Room in my Heart

I don't have room

“No guns but only brotherhood can resolve the problems.” – Atal Bihari Vajpayee

So, in the past few days, I have been experiencing something that I am not used to. It started Friday for the most part. Thursday night, maybe. But definitely Friday. It was the start to a weekend where I had to work all Friday night. I’m used to being with my family every Friday. It was not a great big deal, because I have one of the best jobs around. I don’t feel that I am working when I’m at my job. In a weird sense, I feel that I am hanging out with anyone I come into contact with at work. It’s an amazing feeling. It’s a feeling. But, I also had another feeling. A feeling. A sense of impeding longing for my family. You see, in addition to being gone all Friday night, I was also going to be away all Sunday. For a good reason, though.

The Chicago Cubs played the final game of the season on Sunday at, perhaps, my favorite place on the planet – Wrigley Field. It was a glorious day too. At times it was hot. At times it was cool. Beautiful. I took my son to the game, together with my parents, sister and nephew. I took Miles to see the World Series trophy – something I had waited 36 years to see and something he doesn’t understand at the age of seven. A weird butterfly-y happiness ejaculated into my stomach. There’s a picture of it on my Instagram. I follow the Kanye rules to photography almost exclusively. This time, I could not hide my teeth. They pushed their way through my Jolie-esque lips and I felt as old as my son in that moment. I felt like a child. I felt.

As much fun as I was having, I felt something else the entire time. Longing. Longing for Laura and Kennedy. I had seen them the day before. But, I didn’t see them the night before. My sensitivities were rising. I admit it. I am sensitive. Despite not usually experiencing human emotions, I feel sensitivity. I hide it well from people who don’t know me well. I hide it terribly from those that do. I prefer not to emote. That is my default emotion. Nothing.

I got back Sunday night and kissed Kennedy and Laura good night and woke up on the sensitive side of the bed. Everything was starting to crash inside me. It was the opposite feeling than the butterfly cum flowing through my stomach the day before. It was as though I had swallowed despair and chased it with dread. A black cloud of flatulents was brewing in my fat stomach, and I felt myself about to spew all over anyone that would come into my path that day. And then I opened Facebook.

Fucking Facebook. Honestly, if it weren’t for my job, I would be off it by now. It is perpetuating the idiocracy of America. It is artificial affectation. There is no debate. There is no discourse. There is no gray. There is no chance for objectivity to exist. Even when every news story on my timeline yesterday morning was describing the indescribable, sad reality of what was occurring in Las Vegas. The heartbreaking loss of humanity. The senseless loss of humanity in Las Vegas. The devastating loss of humanity in Las Vegas. The preventable loss of humanity in Las Vegas.

The black cloud consumed me. It quickly filled my throat with black bile that sifted into the dark chasms of my brain. My synapses were burning with rage, sympathy, and a lack of understanding. Even though my default emotion is non-emotion, I was an emotional wreck. I’ve already written about this. I have nothing to offer but a broken heart. I still have nothing to offer but a broken heart. I don’t have thoughts or prayers to give. Those aren’t tangible things. They do not do anything to change what has happened and what will happen. These thought bubbles that appear in your head designed for sympathy dissipate into the thin air, serving no purpose. You can’t bring back 58 people with a thought bubble. You can’t bring back the 11,689 people that have died as a result of gun violence in 2017 – at the time of this writing. Your condolences do nothing, but to make your empathetic heart feel better. Your words fall flat when they are filled with false ostentations.

We’ve ignored this too long. Praying over 12,000 times per year for gun violence must be exhausting. It is unfulfilling. It is the definition of insanity. Asking for a different outcome with the same results. No. The time has come for inaction. Prayers and thoughts are passive and inactive. Nothing will ever happen. Nothing. Ever. Will. Happen. We, as humans, need to recognize the gun culture in America for what it is. A lobby. The reason we do not have serious gun reform discussions in this once great country of ours is a direct result of money into the politicians wallets. Jimmy Kimmel may have said it best last night:

“President Trump is visiting Las Vegas on Wednesday, he spoke this morning, said he’s praying for those who lost their lives. In February, he also signed a bill that made it easier for people with severe mental illness to buy guns legally. Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, Speaker of the House Paul Ryan, a number of other lawmakers who won’t do anything about this because the NRA has their balls in a money clip, also sent their thoughts and their prayers today, which is good. They should be praying. They should be praying for God to forgive them for letting the gun lobby run this country, because it’s so crazy.”

It’s not a quote that is enveloped in a political plea. It is an impassioned plea to those elected officials to consider the humans they represent. But, they will not listen. They will take the NRA’s money and tell you that the forefathers created this nation so you could live your life in peace with an altered semi-automatic machine gun that became fully automatic. You can sleep peacefully at night knowing that you and your family is safe from any militia or army that may come through your door at night. You have a full clip on an assault rifle, so your wife and children can sleep soundly. You have the right to own a weapon which sole purpose is to end the life of another person. But, you do not have the right to healthcare, if you were the victim of gun violence. It is time to stop this nonsense. It is time to stop.

Enough with your empty prayers. Enough with your tweets. Enough with your politicizing every issue. Enough with your black and white. Enough with your vitriol. Enough. Call your senators. Call your congressman. Speak with your humans.

If you are not mad, you feel nothing. This is where I know that my sensitivities connect me to my fellow humans. Where I may be devoid of emotion from time to time and have a hard time experiencing emotion, I am fucking livid. I feel mad. I am mad. The mere fact that we have gotten to the point in a society that we are making excuses for this devastation has my head filled with such a sadness. An indescribable sadness. We have to better. We have to make it change now. I can’t write about this again. I will go insane.

I am not making a political statement. I am making a human statement. I love all of you. Even those of you who disagree with me. Even those of you who will use these instruments of death in a self-fulfilling prophecy. It’s time for all of us to rise above the money, to rise above the false pretense, to rise above the lobby, to rise above.

I’m not used to all of these human emotions. It’s weird to me that they all coincided and created this heavy cocktail inside me. I have work to do in my life to understand these emotions and how to properly emote them. I don’t have room in my heart for this violence. I can’t do it anymore. I won’t.

please to enjoy.

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