Right, I said I wld elaborate on that moment. Didn’t want to leave “you” hanging. So here it is quickly, awfully, and we’re never gonna talk about it again…
Yesterday I was in an uber to work. So that means I was either running late or holding heavy shit. In this case, late holding heavy shit. The driver was being a little nuts going in the under pass so I thought maybe i shld put my seat belt on. then i thought it wldnt be so bad if we got into an accident because i wldnt have to go to work. <- awful feeling #1. Then i thought woooaw that’s a crazy thought. u really meant just a small accident. ummm, no doesn’t have to be toooo small. it’s ok if it’s one that gets me in the hospital and out of work for a couple of weeks. wooooaw. that’s nuts. you’d rather be incapacitated for two weeks and have everyone worried than go to work? the work you fuking built??? ummm. this is a scary thought. so let’s just stop it now.
Last week there was a photo released of a boy who drowned trying to leave Syria. Extremely sad. If i think of it too much, i’ll start crying. i also was thinking this morning that we escaped on a boat when i was his age, 5/6. How am I here now? How does someone go through so much change in one lifetime and survive to know him/her self?
ALso this week, my mom lost her uncle. Older uncle but still a soul she loved deeply. And even worse, my brother in law lost his cousin. Heart attack at 42 while playing soccer. Leaves behind a wife and kids. The world is not even safe enough to play soccer anymore. Play is where I escape. I can’t even play without worrying. Oh and this wkend at the beach house, L told me a little boy drowned in NY on the beach. Even with a ton of lifeguards. That mom took her kids to the beach one day, it was a happy day, and didn’t come bk with her son.
You get the idea. Life this week has been a little extra emotional. And here I am having this most awful thought when people are really experiencing tragedy. This is bad. Smtg is seriously off here. I need a new life perspective. And asap.