I only wish I'd had this feeling a few weeks ago.  I happens off and on throughout the year.  Moments, hours actually, where I'm in frantic writing mode.  I was there last night.  I wrote until I was delirious.  Until the screen was too bright, and the words that were at first dancing playfully, wandered around like drunken, misguided souls, searching for their car keys, or a friend to take them home. 

I loved it. 

It happens only a few times a year. Maybe about once a month.  Normally when I'm trying to mentally escape. 

The tragedy on 12/14/12, was cause for me to escape.  I cannot fully allow myself to comprehend the enormity of what happened.  It would break me down to the point of not being able to do anything for a very long time.  It'll send me into my mind and keep me there.  It may split my personality.  And it should.  We should not be so accustomed to tragedy like this that we can just go on.  Many of us have become so desensitized that we don't work for change. I can't continue to live my life that way.

I'm not sure how to change, but I know I must.  It's my responsibility to help make it better.  I don't know much about life, but I do know this; it means nothing if you're not helping.