132

December 16th 132 children were killed. They were killed because of what their parents did. 132.

I don’t want children. Doesn’t mean I hate them. I don’t hate anyone. At least I try not to hate anyone.

I watched The Bridge one day in high school when I was busy not doing homework. The Bridge is a documentary film about people jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. Committing suicide.

I think it’s truly impossible to exactly know what somebody is going through. What somebody is feeling. The important thing is to at least try. If you can’t try at least try be open.

When Osama bin Laden was killed people all across the US went into the streets and celebrated. When the Boston bomber was captured people in Boston went into the streets and celebrated. I was one of them. I was relieved he was captured. Relieved that we were safe.

I’ve said that I like computers more than people. Sometimes (most of the time (probably all the time)) I don’t understand people. I don’t even understand myself. Why do we do the things we do. One thing I’ve tried to do for the longest time is try to understand people, I’m not good at it.

I try not to hate people. You can never fully know what somebody is going through. There have been people I’ve hated. I think I’ve hated them for good reasons. Later on I stop hating them. Not because I’ve been wrong, just because I’ve been misguided. By myself. Fallen into my own trap of feeling “holier than thou”.

Why do people do bad things? Is anybody truly evil? Do we all have some goodness inside? How perfect can you become? How many people can you deceive?

When I write these blog posts I usually try to make sense of something. Try to put the pieces together and have that “Aha!” moment and then think everything is OK. That is never really the case. I have no fucking clue what I’m talking about. Ever. Nobody does.

When you are a kid you look up to your parents. You look up to your heroes. They are the people you want to become when you grow up. As you grow up you realize that they are just people. They are just like you. They were just like you. They are just older. They have seen more, done more, been through more. When I’ve grown up I’ve realized this slowly. That nobody is perfect. That everybody has emotions. That everybody feels happiness, sadness, joy, anger, fear, contempt, lust, passion, jealousy, whatever; nobody is above it. It is what makes us who we are. My hero for the longest time was Tiger Woods. I wanted to be just like him. When I heard about his scandal I was just surprised. I thought he was Tiger Woods, one of the greatest golfers to ever live. He still was, he also was a man who did other things on the side. I hate cheaters. I hate lying. I do lie but I try not to (lol clearly that’s a lie).

Nobody is perfect. Nobody. I’ve known this for a very long time. However I have only just started realizing it. Nobody is perfect. We are all just living. Living. Some people are living better than others but as long as that person keeps living they eat (hopefully), they sleep (hopefully), they shit (hopefully), and they keep living (hopefully). We all fill our days, our nights, our weekends, our weekdays, our mornings, our brunches, our whatevers with something. Something to keep us going, something to keep us entertained, something that we want to accomplish, something that we love, something.

Earlier on Monday (or Tuesday) I believe I read that 32 students were killed. On Monday (here) people were being held hostage in Sydney. People call the people who do these things monsters, horrible people.

All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That’s how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day. – The Joker

I don’t think it takes one bad day. I just think we are all human. We aren’t much different than our monsters. I’m not saying everybody has a monster inside but we shouldn’t try to make it us. Us being the good people. The people who go to work every day, the people who pay their taxes, the people who make a good fair living, the people who take care of their children, the people who care for whats best. Vs the bad people. The bad people being them. The people who did drugs, the people who had sex before marriage, the people who like people different than them, the people who like people who are the same as them, the people who skipped school, the people who killed somebody. It shouldn’t be us vs them. It should just be us. All of us. We are all responsible, all the time, we should never and can never shift the blame. There are always three sides to a story.

I wrote this post at around 1:15 AM Wednesday. I wrote it because I was upset about 132 children dying. They did nothing wrong (to the people that killed them). I wrote it because I don’t understand. I don’t understand why 132 children would be killed. I don’t want to write “I don’t understand why they killed 132 children”. I don’t want to make them into a they. I don’t want to distance them. Make myself better than them. I just want to yell why. I want to scream why at somebody. Why. Why do people do the things they do. Why. I don’t think there is ever truly an answer. We just do the best that we can.

Sometimes I want to give up. Give up on trying to understand people. Give up on working towards my goals. Give up on people. Give up on the world. It’s a horrible place right?

Mid mornings, a little before noon, when the sun is high in the sky, where there are little to no clouds in the sky I smile to myself. It makes me so happy. So happy to be alive. So happy to experience life. Seeing friends, people I care about, getting to indulge in technology, going to new places, experiencing new things, they are all really great things. Life is really awesome. There are good parts, there are great parts, there are bad parts, there are horrible parts, they are all parts, they all happen, they may come in pairs, they may just chain along one after the other. But they happen. All of them. And that’s just what life is.