Late last night, I tweeted "thoroughly unsurprised. thoroughly disgusted. thoroughly depressed." I woke up feeling angry instead, which I guess is progress. But anger without direction leads to me not being able to think straight, or to love, or to have empathy, which makes me no better than Darren Wilson. So, thank you for acknowledging that anger, sadness, and helplessness about what to do next, while also pointing to a more compassionate path with glimmers of hope. Emily Dickinson: Hope is the thing with feathers. This post is a feather. Thank you.