Boston – words fail – can’t think about it any more.

Posted: April 15, 2013 in Humanity, My Whirled
Tags: , , , , ,

The Thinking Viking has had a pretty good Monday, locally.  Work was quiet when I got in, and a week long house guests is heading off after a nice visit.

So there I was, doing my ten-minute check of social media in the morning – I do this after the morning email, IT duties and general “is anything on fire” tasks my job requires.  Then the newsfeed updates….

Explosion at Boston Marathon. My first thought was – shit get’s blown out of proportion, bet it’s just a chunk of dry ice in a 2-liter bottle of some….wait – TWO explosions?

a third report comes in.  Two bombs.  Something dark and terrified is rising in me.  Then it hits me.

Jane (not her real name). Dated her for a few months about three years ago. Things ended abruptly, but not horribly or with malice.  A good friend of mine ran into her last year, she passed along a “Hi”.

Jane is from Boston.  And moves between coasts a lot. Her sister runs the Boston Marathon…every year.  Her family attends to watch her finish.

Oh please, not again.  I have friends in Aurora, CO.  I also had friends with a 212 area code on 9/11 who worked in the North Tower but transferred before that date… I dial her number (still in my phone) and leave her voicemail.

She calls back an hour later. Everyone is fine with her and her family.

But everyone in Boston isn’t fine. Because I’m well connected news wise, I’ve seen photos, heard clips and watched video.  I’ve seen the conspiracy theories blossom as we all knew they would.

I refuse to speculate. People are dying, right now, as I type.

Fuck this world that creates such evil.  People, we can do better.

I don’t want to think about it.

MJ

PS 9:00 PM PDT

I can’t stop thinking about it.

MJ

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Comments
  1. Anonymous says:

    I met Johnny today while eating lunch and he had the most beautiful story ever…. my niece and i left wendy’s feeling great happiness and appreciated Johnny story about Johnny and Hilda…. can’t wait to see him again.

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