A year since I saw on Twitter updates of the death count. Uninformed speculation. Pics of bloody hospital hallways, bloody civilian trucks, paramedics, doctors, nurses, and EMT's who hadn't slept for days and had bags under their eyes.
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My work gave away so much free coffee and drinks to anyone who helped, people who lost loved ones. I interviewed students about it. I was told all the workers on the strip were kept on lockdown in parking structures. They weren't allowed to leave the strip til the next morning.
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The following days were surreal. Nobody on the strip was out celebrating like usual. School hallways, mall hallways, everyone and everywhere was hushed. Everyone felt that vibe. It was like we all lost someone. Crazy. The sadness continued until past Thanksgiving.
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Life is so unexpected. And after reading the stories of the people who died, some heroically, others tragically, it really pisses me off now a WHOLE ASS YEAR LATER that not a DAMN THING has been done about gun control like wtf. How many people gotta die. How fucking many.
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I live in a house with guns. I'm all for people owning a pistol or two. But fucking modding a rifle to shoot out submachine rounds its ridiculous. Disheartening to see people shout about their rights being violated as if they'd have rights two seconds away from being 6 ft under.
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