Katrina

Damn. Just—Damn.

I sup­pose I have more faith in human nature than I think I do because when­ev­er I hear about things like peo­ple shoot­ing at copters try­ing to evac­u­ate hos­pi­tal patients, I can’t quite process the information.

I’m hor­ri­fied.

I feel for those peo­ple. I wish I could help them. I feel utter­ly use­less because I can’t. The child­ish part of me wants to be a D&D char­ac­ter or some­thing like that, and fly to the res­cue. Save peo­ple, stop the fight­ing, con­trol the waters, feed the hun­gry, and heal the sick.

I know the police, mil­i­tary, and Red Cross are doing their best. I’m angry at the shit­heads who start­ed the shooting. 

I sup­pose all I can do, right now, is—well, not exact­ly pray. Send ener­gy, sor­ta. I don’t know what to call it. But I’m think­ing of them.