Karl Gehring/The Denver Post

I just want to turn off the TV and go back to work.

I want to act like the events of last night in Colorado does not affect me; my dark and cynical mind counting off how many times I have seen this type of incident in my lifetime, hoping the numbers will desensitize me.

Luby’s, The North Hollywood Shoot-out, Columbine, Red Lake, Virginia Tech, The Giffords Shooting…It is not working.

It’s been mere hours, the media blitz begins. The crazy, twisted, hammering flow of information beating on all of our minds from the radio, tv, and internet; imprinting this horrific event in our souls forever and I just want to escape from it.

I’m no better than anyone else in this country. I can’t turn off my television. I’m waiting for that “Oswald” moment, the second tower hit on 9/11; that moment of terror following the terror.

I am not surprised that some intelligent, well educated young man lost his mind and took out his vengeance on an unsuspecting public. That’s what happens when mental illness overwhelms you; one is all alone and have nothing else but the twisted reality that you have created in your mind. That is the only way I can make sense of any of this.

Two hundred twenty two people have lost their lives in Chicago this year to gun violence…why are people surprised it’s easy to pull a trigger when you have nothing left to lose?

I don’t know why this happened anymore than I know why it keeps happening. Is gun control the answer? Ammunition control? How about better parenting? Better mental health screenings and care?

Or is it the media? Hovering over the dead, wringing every last drop of pain into our glass…”Drink up! Drink your Kool-Aid, America! Drink up the death, drink up the fear, drink up the terror.”

I don’t want to be thinking about this.

I just want to work on my book.

I don’t want to be thinking about my daughter three states away; glad for the first time she doesn’t like crazy crowds and loud noises.

I don’t want to think to myself, “I would have been smoked in the first salvo, too fat to run…But I would’ve made a helluva’ human shield.”

I don’t want to be crying for people I never knew and now never will. They never had a chance, victims in a silent game played out in one man’s mind.

I just want to go back to work…