I didn't vote in the Ohio primaries on May the 8th. At the time that I had chosen not to do so, I provided myself with menial excuses for why I had not done so. I had to work all day long, I needed to run some errands, I needed to do some laundry and so forth. But, at the end of the day, I acknowledged that I had chosen not to participate in democracy, and I felt incredibly guilty. After all, there are people all around the world who are, quite literally, dying for the opportunity to participate in democracy.

As a matter of fact, I even read that a student who was shot and killed during the most recent school shooting in Santa Fe, Texas was a transfer student from Pakistan. I think that the most devastating thing about this specific detail is that this young woman's parents had likely sent her to America in the first place because they believed that she would be safer here. Most devastatingly, they were wrong.

I've noticed that after so many tragic events occur, such as the many school shootings that happened already in 2018, a certain kind of political outrage takes place. People begin to call their representatives, they get up to vote, and they write lengthy posts on social media calling for action. Lately, however, I've felt too jaded to do any of those things, and I believe that a few others are feeling the same way, also.

When I heard about the shooting that took place in Santa Fe, I was not shocked. I was not outraged. Of course, I feel sorrow for the lives that are lost, but the sorrow I felt has occurred so many times after so many of these devastating tragedies that it is beginning to become something of a familiar friend to me now.

Sorrow no longer feels like a shiny new novelty, something that adds fuel to a fire that forces me to act. Instead, it's like water — made up of the same properties throughout its substance, coming at me like traditional waves on the beach — not a riptide during the storm.

I don't feel like discussing politics with anyone anymore because the conversation seems to go nowhere — just like these waves. As a liberal, I was so desperate after constantly learning of the deaths of so many innocent children that I felt the strong urge to advocate for gun control. But the fact of the matter is that we come from all walks of life, we have different views of this very same ocean, and I cannot change the minds of anyone that I talk to, nor do I any longer intend to.

I used to find politics invigorating, exciting, even kind of fun. The truth is, there is nothing fun about discussing the ways in which we can prevent innocent children from dying. I'm sick of acting like politics is a game, because innocent lives are becoming the pawns. I don't have any idea how to solve this problem, and I'm also sick of politicians act like they do, too.

Although I never quite believed that adults had all of the answers, I at least believed that they could build the bridges to get us closer to receiving some. When I imagine these bridges now, I don't see solutions —I see cold hard cash. Provided by the NRA, provided by large scale corporations, you name it. The bridges lead us no where.

Generally, when I end my articles, I try to lighten things by providing a potential solution to a problem as something for myself and others to think about. I have no solution, and even if I did, I am relatively powerless to implement it. I am sick of children dying, and I am sick of adults using the knowledge of children dying to institute their own agendas. Another day, another batch of children buried in the ground. It's just another day in the great and powerful U.S.A. Now lady liberty, please step out from behind that curtain.