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Bleak reality strikes again...

God, I need to get more sleep. I hate insomnia. I hate lying in bed thinking how I should be doing something usefull instead of lying there. Too tired to do anything but lie there. I need to start actually writing again. Beta-reading is just not enough anymore, though I get some good ideas and techniques there. I feel like all the energy and creativity has been sapped out of me. By what, I don't know, but lately I haven't had the energy to even play well.
Dad want's more money from me, insurance and stuff. Just when I thought I was starting to save some up, too... No computer for you, dear... I get paid on Friday, so if I can manage to put Dad off until then... I really need to order strings, too. I hate praying to God that I don't break any strings, because I don't have extras right now. Gotta see which catalog is having a sale now. Why couldn't I just have played the flute or something?
I usually try not to think too much about the real world. You know, current events and all that.. Too depressing... But I can't help it. What kind of morons are we, anyways? What right does anyone have to kill a living person? Is that what everything comes down to, murder? Go America, kill those terrorists! Doesn't matter that ten innocent people die for every one guilty one. The media justifys it as "War". How is bombing those poor people going to help anyone? It won't change what happened. It probably won't prevent it from happenning again. "It sends a message," people keep saying. Some message. I guess human life isn't as important as political posturing.
Megan's older brother just left for Pakistan. He's some sort of artillery specialist. She doesn't know what will happen. Only that he's not allowed to write to her on their parents. I don't know what to feel. I don't know her brother. I didn't really know anyone in New York. I pity their families, but I don't really feel bad about the dead. They're dead. They're beyond feeling. The living ones, now, that's hard.
I think I'm morbid today. Must be the weather. Or the news. Bleak reality. I wish I had time to hide in a book. There has to be a happy ending somewhere. Right? Srange that all the various religious leaders of the world are so silent. I know Cathlolics find that whole free will/predestination paradox unsettling. Hard to love God if He causes (or, depending on your exact belief system, lets someone else cause) all this to happen. Hard to believe anything.
Mom thinks the bombings are jusified. A lot of people agree with her. I don't understand how anyone can be so damn callous with another's life. Maybe it's easy to stop seeing them as people. More comforting, I suppose. No names, just numbers, coordinates on a map. Ground zero. It's wrong to let orphans starve in Somalia, but it's okay to actively kill people. Makes me sick. Hypocrisy.
Hungry. Tired. Depressed. Jaded. Cynical.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life...



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