There are no words for what happened on this day twenty-six years ago. There simply aren’t. *WARNING* Some of the following pictures may be disturbing. Advertisements
I have tried to post for a while now, about how I feel about the recent string of protests around the country, concerning the lack of justice for those innocents who have been killed by the police. I’ve tried to put my feelings into words that might resonate with the population as a whole, rather than those specifically affected by the injustice; for if change is to come, it must come from those who have not been dealt with so harshly, by those charged with serving and protecting. But I must confess that I’m having a very hard time keeping an even tone. Because I’m outraged, at a part of society that feels that our constitutionally guaranteed rights are more like suggestions, rather than tenets set into stone – that those rights don’t apply, if it’s easier to just ignore them.
I first saw you the other morning in a pedestrian tunnel, Striding; purposeful, compelled, as all of us were in that world – Though some were more driven than others. And as our eyes met, yours, and mine, you stumbled; Your step faltered, then recovered – a hitch; insufficient to Elicit the notice of those who crowded around you. But I saw. I knew. And you saw I was there – and aware, of you. And I also know, that until that very moment, I had lost the dream Of but some few hours before, When you and I were one.
The world seems full of people who spend their entire life looking for answers to life’s questions. Some of them (though entirely too few) are quite good at finding answers. Because to them, it’s the answer that’s important. Not who gets there first. Not which flag is flying over the ship which first sails into uncharted waters. Not which corporation funded the exploration of that far off, undiscovered country. It’s about the solutions, to the problems which arise as a natural part of humanity’s innate curiosity. As one rather outstanding writer once put it, there is no such thing as an uninteresting subject – there are only uninterested people.
I don’t much feel like making any snarky remarks, or snide asides or amusing quips. About much of anything. Not today. There doesn’t seem to be any room for humor. Not when people I know are going through hell. Not when people – actual living, breathing, hungry, sweating flesh and blood people – are being gassed and sprayed by their own fellow citizens. The people of Hong Kong are in the midst of a crisis.