I can’t stop reading nor thinking about what happened in Nice, 84 people dead, 200 injured and still some unaccounted for.
Bastille Day is the French Fourth of July, and it’s hard not to imagine a tragedy like the one this past Thursday, happening here.
I ask you, when did humanity take such flight?
This man who killed all these people, like a Tyrannosaurus Rex on wheels, careening at top speed, wasn’t even a member of ISIS, or any known terrorist group. He was just a commoner, for lack of a better term, with inexplicable hatred in his heart.
What do we know about Mohamed Lahavier-Bouhel?
He was 31, divorced, a father of three who still killed ten children during his repulsive rampage, kids mowed down like dolls unable to even attempt to protect themselves. The one saving grace is knowing, their last hours on earth were spent in joy and jubilation, if that’s even a comfort.
I truly can’t wrap my brain around such violence, a friend said, I should be used to by now, especially after witnessing 9/11.
I don’t ever want to be used to something so foreign to love and human decency while I’m still of this world.