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For a long time I thought that my attitude towards violence and death was blazae. Why? Well, it's not secret that I know some people who have done bad things, snuffed out lives, hurt others, been killed etc. I really thought I was immune to it all. The way I would talk about a number of my friends, it was as if, what they have done was nothing serious.
Violence, and killing I viewed as an everyday thing. Every time a friend held a letter that had been written by a friend who had killed someone, they would always say, I'm holding something that someone has touched and with their own hands wrote, the same hands that killed someone. My attitude would be, yeah so what...
Today, I saw a guy who had tried to kill himself. His body landed directly opposite me. It wasn't the prettiest of sites, and I am glad it was dark. The guy didn't die, and he was in a bad way, and I dunno, something happened within me. I was staring at this guy, and I was sooo concerned, there was nothing I could do and all I could do was stare. I felt so helpless, and all my thoughts were for his safety. I prayed for him. I prayed that he would be ok, not maybe physically, but I prayed that he would in a while, find help he needs and be in a good place mentally and emotionally.
Before people came to his aide, I was just staring at his body on the tracks thinking, how easy it is to snuff out a life. The guy wasn't dead, but I just thought all humans are miracles, I am soo in awe when I hear just how complex and fascinating the human body is, and how each life is precious and sacred and how wonderful each person is. I was thinking how could someone want to do that to themselves. I'm not saying they were being selfish or anything, but I just can't begin to understand what someone must be going through to want to do that to themselves.
Of all the emotions I could of felt, I felt vulnerable. I realised within myself, this hard exterior I'd built to protect myself from violence wasn't actually real. A guy I know is on death row, and I said to myself, one day this guy won't be here, so I shall not allow myself to get caught up and to allow myself to grieve when he does go. I felt open and vulnerable, I'd seen someone try to kill themself, it was real. I couldn't ignore just how powerful death could be, and I wanted to cry.
I also felt vulnerable because I realised just how fragile life is.. how fragile my life is, and at the end of the day, death isn't a mental or emotional thing, it's a physical thing. Death doesn't care how clever you are, or how witty you are, or how good a player you are. No, death is just about permanently stopping everything physical.
Thinking about it now, I've no idea whether that guy died later or not, afterall he would of lost a lot of blood. If he did, I'd feel bad. I was staring at these people helping him, thinking for the love of god, put something on him, he'll go into shock otherwise (it had been snowing and was realllly cold), and they weren't doing anything to stem the blood. I just remained on the train...
When you're young, you think oh look, I'm invincible, I won't die for years and years and years, I don't need to think about death. I dunno, just seeing it, someone wanting it that badly, and trying it... welll...
