the tragedy at virginia tech...

I think I may be the only one on this planet (besides the people I have already convinced) that thinks that the real tragedy was Cho's. I have been harboring this feeling inside for so long, and I finally want to put it out there.

Imagine a life where you are tortured. You are already an outsider because you came from a different country. You have a speech impediment because English is one of the hardest languages to master. You try making friends, but instead they just laugh when you try to talk. You try to meet girls, but they just giggle when you try to speak. You hate going to English class, where they ask you to read your paper out loud - and have to deal with assholes for the next few months mocking what a hard time you had. Everyday you dread waking up because you know it will only be hell in school. Every day you wake up and think about killing yourself because there is nothing you can do to make your life better. You have a small amount of hope left, but instantly it is ruined by popular kids in high school and college stepping on you to look cool. You are a tortured soul, and there is no reason to keep on living.

What would you do? Would you keep on living? Would you find a reason, a hope? Maybe he did, and then it was crushed again. The definition of insanity is that you keep doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. He kept going on, he kept trying hard to fit in, expecting one day that it would work. And it never did. He was going insane trying to fit in. So, he did something else. He closed everyone out. He pushed everyone away. He escaped into his own mind. The most dangerous place he could go. But they pushed him in there. They made him find refuge in himself. That's where they went wrong. I wish someone would have helped him. Someone would have loved him. I wish there was someone who would walk with him after class. Someone to hold his hand. Someone to be his friend. Someone he could call when he was having a hard day. Someone who would give him hope in life. Someone who gave him a reason to say "You are the only person I am living for". But he didn't have that person. He didn't have anyone like that. And when you don't have anyone to turn to, and you keep getting pushed into a corner by your enemies, you come out swinging. And he did. But he didn't come out swinging fists and taking names, he chose the more popular method these days. He came out with dual pistols. And he took lives. He vindicated himself in his own mind. All those kids had ignored him. All those kids had tortured him. All those kids had made fun of him. Even if the individuals he killed had never spoken to him, he must have assumed they hated him like EVERYONE HE HAD EVER KNOWN.

Everybody wonders, "Why would a mad man do this?" "How could someone do this?" That's how. You torture someone to the point of no return, and it's only a matter of time until his tragedy of a life becomes a mass tragedy of other people's lives.

I just wish I could have been that one person. The one to have given him hope, to have been there to save his mind from the insanity. But there was no one, and that is the price we pay.

Lesson learned - befriend those who have no friends. Give someone hope, and maybe you will save lives.

Isn't that more noble than wearing a ribbon?