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Me Myself&I

Is there an end

It barely makes the news.

I keep thinking about the victim’s grandson. He’s twelve. He was six when Trayvon Martin was murdered. He was eight when Mike Brown was murdered. He already had a sense at that time, that this is extremely scary and wildly unreal with Barack and Michelle up there. Imagine.

Today he’s a young teenager. He simply walked in a store with his grandfather to buy some stuff. He came out running, calling his mom because a white man just shot his grandpa in the back of his head for obviously no reason besides the Reason. I think that would make me, at his age, extremely angry. The kind of anger that never, ever goes away. The kind of anger that will raise hell. Someday. It doesn’t matter when. In the future. How do you trust the world around you when something like that happens and no one really cares? It unleashes so much darkness, and we will pay for it. I’m sick.

Yesterday, Police Fatally Shoot Black Security Guard Who Detained Shooting Suspect. Black people killed by mistake and mass shootings really have become weather news. “Oh, another one” we think, grinding our teeth. “Right, that’s the trial for which horrible killing/hashtag again?” All those deaths are avoidable and facts show that only white people are responsible for them. I’m sick.

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