It’s evening, and I’m sitting alone in my flat. I have the space heater on behind me, though less for the heat than for the desire to have my jeans dry from the soaking cycle ride that brought me home tonight. I look up at the door to what could be the world’s smallest balcony and notice how the rain droplets flicker in the wind, reflecting the green and yellow lights like a one-day-late Mardi Gras celebration. Today is Valentine’s Day, but I’m unfazed by the reality that I’m sitting at home alone. It’s odd, because a few years ago this would have been another sad year, but now there are too many more important things going on with life, let alone my own life. I bring up Facebook for what must be the thirtieth time today in my attempts to make headway in my publication, and immediately notice a new trending news story. Happy Valentine’s Day to the most obsessed country with it, there’s been yet another school shooting. South Africa has zero confidence in Zuma, the Koreas have shown the greatest hospitality toward one another since before the war, my remaining friends here are awaiting decisions that could impact the rest of their lives, and I just made a choice that will irrevocably alter my own. So…yeah, you could say there are more important things going on as opposed to some one-day regret about not having a date when the only difference between today and literally the rest of the year is a pagan-turned-commercial holiday developed for commercialism. Cynical? I prefer realistic. And frankly, it’s becoming harder to remain solely the latter.
A bus passes by outside my window. You can always tell when a vehicle is approaching the front of my flat when it rains; the water amplifies the unnatural sounds of people driving too fast on small roads, but hey, it’s what they want. Have you ever felt you’re destined for something great, and you’re constantly reaching toward it but have no idea what it is? Or how even though you and so many other people are going through the exact same life events but it feels as if you’re entirely alone? One day it will all make sense, but for the time being, nothing does. New things are happening, moves are taking place, and the next chapters are just beginning to be written. People look at who you are and what you’ve done, and they’re genuinely interested in you, some enough so to even go on a date with you off a small phone conversation. Yet you wonder, why? You don’t know what you’re doing, and it seems everything you can claim behind you is put to luck. Sure a good part is, of course, due to your work ethic and what you’ve pushed to happen, but if you were asked 10 years ago to predict your path, this would have been so far out of the realm of possibility you wouldn’t have even considered it. As we now move away from yet another bubble we’ve surrounded ourselves with, we suddenly remember the reality that exists outside and what exactly is entailed in fending on our own. We recognize how incredibly privileged that is, but we still pine for what we’ve lost even as we are thankful it was able to happen in the first place.
I move back and forth between the different tabs on my computer. Apparently the shooter has been apprehended amidst rumors of multiple deaths and a state senator taking the senate floor immediately to once again condone the group of elected officials for allowing this to happen by not sanctioning stricter gun laws…all of it makes you think, doesn’t it? I’ve written before on this, but no matter what we do they still happen. Living in the UK I’m certainly not immune to incidents of mass panic and terror; there were unfortunately several examples of that this past year alone. And yet, what does it say about my home country that in England I feel safer because I only have to worry about being stabbed as opposed to being shot by a random person who has the gun legally? What does it imply when I spend an Easter explaining to middle-aged Brits why school shootings always happen in the US and how I’ve adapted my own thinking and awareness in social situations to try to mentally prepare for them? I have been lax, but it’s now time to get back in that mindset as the deadline comes closer.
Water droplets at the window force my attention upwards, outside. The rain has started up again, this time in definable sheets powered by the wind. I check back again about the shooting, and an alarm goes off outside as it begins to pour. I immediately go back to Facebook, find my writing from only 4 months ago, and repost, because that’s the only thing I feel I can do….there have been multiple deaths, and who knows how many students now traumatized for the rest of their lives, with some seeing the aftermath as they were led away by SWAT teams. For the last time, this is not normal. This was never and should never be considered a non-random occurrence, yet look where we are. And of course I ask the same question that every sane person wants to know: when will this end? When will this inane allowance of these events cease to continue? Apparently, schoolchildren dying year after year isn’t enough for a majority of elected officials to vote for more strict gun laws. Although I’d love to say this can’t keep happening, I’m proven wrong perhaps every other week.
And that’s where things stand. Life keeps changing, and we change with it. When I started writing tonight I didn’t expect for this to become another commentary on gun control. When I talk to my friends about what’s in store for the future, I don’t expect for it to be a solemn occurrence just because I’m unsure of what’s happening. I sure didn’t expect Valentine’s Day to end with my being thankful for life and currently not in a country that allows for shootings to happen on school campuses. But things change no matter our cynicism or realistic outlook, no matter what we perceive ourselves to be, and no matter how often we wish we brought rain pants with us. You can’t forecast rain by looking at how much water is in the puddle in front of you, right? You have to look up, in more ways than one, and maybe it’s in that daily practice that we will find that destiny we know we’re reaching for. In the meantime, let’s not have any more deaths, please.
Cela's Trek 