60 lives, one feeling.
Finally, rain. A few days late, it seems.
What has happened to the world?
On Sunday evening I was getting water before bed when this horribly familiar feeling of impending doom hit me. I didn't give into it, I didn't tell Steph about it, but it didn't let up.
This strange gentle version of precognition runs in my family. The day before her father died, my cousin dreamt that she begged him not to go to work the next morning because something horrible would happen, and something horrible did. My paternal grandmother, like me, has experienced this heavy feeling of impending tragedy that has never lied, and it's an awful weight to carry.
On Monday morning, I read saw the news of the horrible mass shooting in Vegas. My heart sank. I thought that would be it, the terrible thing that sparked the feeling of impending doom. Wasn't that enough for a day? For a lifetime? I expected this news to be enough to rid me of that heavy feeling, but when it didn't resolve itself, it forced me into a spiral of worry. I called my mother, texted my sister, and panicked when my grandparents didn't pick up the phone. They always pick up the phone. I went to the gym to attempt to shake it off and it wasn't until my news notification alerted me that Tom Petty had passed did the feeling dissipate.
There it was, the final blow of the day.
I am heartbroken. For the world, for the families of those killed, and for all of us who have become so desensitized to hearing horrible news. It shouldn't be regular news, it shouldn't be news at all. We grow up being taught right from wrong, but when those who lead by using the "wrong" as a driving value are granted power, we learn that power trumps all (yes, that pun was absolutely intended). We learn, through observation, that power renders us untouchable, no matter what bad things we've done.
I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to hold my loved ones so close that my skin becomes theirs. I'm not sure how to have a stiff upper lip when all I want to do is run a million miles hoping this question that ping-pongs through my head will rest -- "why?"
Why do human beings hurt other human beings? How does one not see a piece of themselves in another? How does pain solve pain? Does it? I doubt it.
I suppose that's what separates those with a conscience and those who live without one.
I hope that you work to always see a piece of yourself in another. See that you, at the end of the day, are not so different than someone of a different race, religion, sexuality, or gender.
I also hope you choose love over hate, always.