I just finished reading this book about the Osage Indian murders in the 1920’s and I guess it just really made me sick. I am no stranger to crime and gore, crime thrillers being my most-read genre of all time. But the thing is, those are all works of fiction, no matter how gory the details or how heinous the crime. The Osage murders on the other hand, truly happened to real people. And the sad thing is, not nearly everyone got the justice they deserved. My God, the abuse and systemic exploitation they went through in the hands of those evil and greedy men.. I have no words.

So I kinda lost my reading mojo after that. I want to read but I am not sure what to read. We’ll see in the coming days.

Anyway, the whole thing just about brought me down. And now my whole mood’s also down and all. And it’s set off these feelings of being trapped again. And I hate it. I want to do something about, do something to make me feel better or improve my mood, but it seems my hands are figuratively tied. And I really hate this feelings of simultaneous restlessness and hopelessness.. such a volatile combination. Makes you feel backed against the wall and desperate, which is never a good thing.

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