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No Right
I wasn't in school today. I had no exams. I was sleeping when it happened. I wasn't in school today and if I had maybe I would've been walking down that hall and heard the shot. or maybe I would've seen him loaded into the ambulance. he was in my brother's grade; maybe some twist of fate would've made them best friends. maybe he never would've, had to, caught up in some overwhelm of MUST and
gunshot.
We're all thinking in maybes. It's human. We can't stop. And we're all putting ourselves in his shoes and his head and that bloody bathroom and there's no way we can know. And is that the tragedy? That I never knew him? No. I didn't know him and he didn't know me. I didn't care about him because I didn't know him, and he didn't care about me. And I didn't stop him because I didn't know him because I didn't know anything because I'm finite and is that the tragedy? No.
Reflexively, we make this about ourselves. It's not.
But we're what's left.
How dare we.
- 1273 of 1957
- Usagi's blog
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I suppose...
... that trying to comment on this, on all that you folks are writing here is an impossible task. What to say? Comment on the quality of the writing? No. The quality of the thinking? No.
Seems hollow, off point really.
But this one hit me. The idea that yes we do personalize it. But I disagree a bit, I think. I think that's what makes us what we are, that we do think that way, that we do think about the what ifs, that we try to make sense of it. And that we do cringe at the thought of this boy's possibilities, despite his and our finiteness.
From a father's perspective, I'm not sure I think about myself as I empathize with this boy's father. This boy's mother. I anguish for them.
Thanks for this. Thanks for all the times you stop and share what you think.
gg
We only work with what we
We only work with what we know, because that's all we have.
-A
I can't
I can't help but cry in solidarity for this boy. I never knew him, yet we had things in common. I want to fold time back and find him a few days before. I want to make him see our love. And I almost want to be with him now.
How small a difference between him & I. I agree with gradster1, we only work with what we know. And I know that feeling well. Exploring our choices are what we do. I write because it helps me edge away from the rim of insanity. If we didn't dare, we'd bottle it up so hard and the pressure would be too great and eventually, we'd just be another piece of sea glass on a beach.
~Silver ∞
Thank you for this...
... I appreciate your voice on this site, around this tragic circumstance. I had not seen it expressed this way before, I can't help but cry in solidarity for this boy ...
True that.
Perhaps it is because I'm tired, perhaps, too, it is because I am a father, but I grieve so, too, for the parents. In solidarity.
gg
This is ... really good. i
This is ... really good. i can't describe it any other way. it didn't end at the end of the poem. it made me keep on thinking. thats what i like about good poems. i also can feel what you felt. i didn't know the boy, yet i feel like i should have.