September, 2025, a day of tears

On this September 10th, my tears flow ceaselessly. Today, souls in this world have ceased from existence instantaneously. The heralds trumpeted their announcements through my phone, haphazardly caught in my couch cushions, and through the pixels of my television in front of my eyes. The title violence punctuated the Heralds flags as they came in on their horses through the colors of my screens. All lost souls resided in schools that day, One in Colorado, and another in Utah. The weapons used were our current typical fair. The weapon with the quickest and most assured result.

As the day continued, so did my tears, while I felt the sinews of my heart rip completely apart. Hate and anger were palpable, as the words of others radiated from my i-pad and android screens. Voices of multiple beings rejoicing the death of a human, while justifying their horrid display with created content that this human was somehow evil for speaking his own voice.

My mind drifts to the time of being a small person sitting in a wooden desk among a class of other small, innocent people. I ponder over the moments of wanting to speak my own little voice, and yet, feeling my legs tremble with the worry that they might all together fail under my little body. I can almost feel the damp, sticky feeling on my face and hands as my heart felt as though it might pound so hard as to beat right out of my chest. I make the attempt to put forth my verbal utterance with pride only to hear the stutter of just a few syllables release from my throat. I remember believing I would truly die if I dared speak my voice on that day. And yet, I finally did muster up the gumption to say my piece, and happily without the result of my own demise. How silly I felt to ever think I could die over something like that.

Yet today... someone did. And so...today, my tears flow ceaselessly, for this being, for his children and for his wife... and for us. Because, for us... we have now lost the right to speak our voice without the possibility of death.

From the musings of a Mariposa