I wanted to publish these words yesterday, but they were difficult in coming. They remain difficult now. I’m not sure what point they serve, if any, except as a reminder that silence sometimes is the appropriate response.
I find myself without words when it comes to the Boston Marathon. I truly don’t know what to say. Any time I try to write something, the writing feels forced, fake. I refuse those words. I have seen them published in the past about other tragedies, and they will be written again. I want no part of that. The words have to mean something.