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Processing tragedy from afar

It’s 3 a.m.

I’ve been scrolling through Twitter for hours. Trying to understand why I react to tragedy the way that I do.

In phase one I act like a journalist.

Scouring social media. Pretending I can tell the truth in a story that has only just begun. Sharing information. Detached.

Scroll.

In phase two I feel helpless.

It could be anyone. It could be my family. Or my friends. Lying dead in the streets. What can I do? The problems that spur this violence are so systemic and varied. What could I possibly do to make it stop. I want to make it stop.

Scroll.

In phase three I am defiant.

Life is unexpected. Do what brings you joy. Spread love and happiness. Feel it all–the heartbreak, the ecstasy. It means you’re alive. Live and love fearlessly.

Scroll.

In phase four I turn darkly inward.

I search for the cracks. The fragile pieces of my mind and heart. Which buttons must be pushed? Which strings have to be pulled? How does a human being get to the point where they pick up a gun and kill someone? I don’t want to ever get there.

I’m usually trapped here for a while.

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Not tonight.

Someone’s tweeted their love for a Bon Iver song. It reminds me of my own favorite of his.

I close Twitter and press play.

I’m sprawled across the bed, blankets pushed to the floor. I’m just lying in the deep darkness 5,000 miles from the blood. The air from the fan catches in my hair and tickles my face.

The music swirls and dances. How does he make music that sounds like snowflakes falling?

I am content.

The world is bleeding. People are screaming. People are breaking. People are killing.

And I am content.

There is immense beauty in the world.

I don’t have any answers. I know that there is joy and heartbreak; I know that there is ugliness and beauty here. And I know that I am lucky.

Right now I am protected. Protected from the consuming fear of those on the streets of Paris tonight. And protected from the pain that breaks a human to the point of killing.

I don’t know how long this protection will last.

So I’m content to lie here. Surrounded by music that sounds like falling snow.

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