Diamond Street

Tragic things happen daily. But sometimes the visualization not of the exact physicallity of the tragedy, but the products of the tragedy stick with you. It gets personal and it gets very emotional. Especially if the the tragedy, the mechanics of the tragedy, are similar to some of the same mechanics you're cycling with in your own life. You can't help but then project a future outcome similar to the one you've just become witness to. Your mind and its prized analysis won't let you leave the situation without inserting your mind, body, and soul in with the same products. As if it was that easy? But for your mind, whose limits are unforgiving, it will put you there. Place you without sensitivity. And there you try to hide, try to consider yourself the victim, or at least you not the conspirator of bad taste. But no matter how much your mind places you there, the personal reference to the actual event, lets you know that someone, personal to you, and this person's sphere of influence as well, is having to actually deal with it. You know it hurts, and you don't pity them, you really don't feel sorry for them; but worse, you wonder what it feels like. You wonder how you, if it was you, how you would deal? You think to yourself, I would have done did it better, or I could have articulated myself better which would deserve a bit more forgivness. Maybe, but the fortunate thing for yourself is, even though you're fuckin' up a bit the same, or you've encountered the same mess, yours isn't publically tragic yet. You may be dealing with it personally, wrestling as if you were wrestling God, but no one else knows. It's not documented anywhere, it's not displayed for anyone else's eyes; your kids don't know. This is what they tell you to do, "Learn from these things," "Be thankful it's not you," "Don't make the same mistakes they do." But God forbid its that simple. Cause, Lord knows its not. It's not even close. No matter how much others lead the way, struggle, find themselves and their loved ones in tragedy, you follow suit. You selfishly resist the tale that teaches; you forge ahead hard-headed and proud. Because that's what gives you merit, pride. That's what make you immortal. Maybe, but becareful, because there is no guarantee. No, no you and yourself have nothing more than luck and freedom. Freedom to do or don't do, and luck to be the spotlight. He was unlucky. And I am very lucky. She lucked out. But I'm luckier. Poor kids, how unlucky. Well at least, it's their problem and not mine.


Live Relentlessly,
Peace
Remoy