Insensitive I want to say I feel something, that this far away tragedy has ripped my heart out, but

it hasn’t. If you want me to, I’ll say I’m sorry, like those words will do some good, but they won’t. I will say that I wish it hadn’t happened, which seems like it doesn’t need to be said, because it doesn’t. And I can’t imagine what it’s like for those affected. I’ve been too desensitized by a distant media, as have you. But you pretend you’re torn up, for your image’s sake, and no one dares question you in case you really are, no one but me. Yet I don’t say anything, for I’m afraid, afraid to be called “insensitive”, because maybe I am.

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