to be filled in later

Silently I'm angry. Silently I'm furious. Silently I give up on a god, but I don't really mean that. Silently I really want to give up on a god.

I want to yell and I want to scream. I want it to be me. I know the bad is over, and I should be so thankful that he's alive, and I am, but I'm still angry. I still can't find any reason for this, and I know I never will. I know I shouldn't turn a blog to let these things out, but my fingers are tired from attempting to not fail this semester and a keyboard is the only thing that is making sense.

He will go through life differently now. He hurt his head, and we don't know if that will heal. Shell shock.

I wish screaming 'fuck you' to whatever is up in the Heavens would save my problems, would heal him in a second, because it's how I feel. He did nothing to deserve this. Nothing to get his life stopped. Nothing to make his life harder. His life has been hard enough. It's just so unfair. So fucking unfair.

This is pointless. This won't change anything.