This isn't a post about the Bataclan

This isn't a post about the Bataclan.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because there shouldn't need to be one.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because what do you say?

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because anything you could say is redundant.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because why would you need to write a blogpost to say that shooting people in a venue is cruel and evil.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because we're humans, and it should be taken as read that our hearts weight heavy, our senses appalled, that we embrace all who lost dear friends and sweet relatives that night.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because there is nothing we can say to take away the pain,, to unwind what happened.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because they wanted us to focus on what they did; how easily, how lazily they attacked the softest of targets.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because they want it to be.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because it's a post about the future, about saying 'fuck you' to people who want to steal away our experiences.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan, because it's an affirmation of life, of love, of enjoyment, of going to places in the dark to watch bands, of helping the people next to you when the audience surge lifts them off their feet or when a too-drunk man tries to get through to the front; of being giddy with the joy of getting lost in the moment, in the crowd, in the music, in the dark.

This isn't a post about the Bataclan. This is a post about love.