camicazy

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i did not see any angels on my way back here. i did not sit
beside the window so i did not talk to any birds. all i
felt was the wind as it rocked the plane. all i felt was
the pressure in my ears as it woke me from my vain attempt
to sleep.

i am finally home...and once again, i am reminded of my
mortality.

dad had tears in his eyes when he saw me. wish i could do
the same. wish i could feel the same. i don't think i can
ever love them as much as they love me.

my mom complained that they spend a huge amount of money to
give us education in australia and i reply that it was
their idea to send us off to melbourne so she shouldn't
complain. my grandpa burst out laughing.

dad replied that we are an investment. which reminds me of
something that i read about advertising and
consumerism. 'consumers are roaches: you spray them and
spray them...and they become immune after a while.'

. . . . .

a family friend was stabbed to death two weeks ago.
christine. her name was christine. she opened the door at
9.00 in the morning and two guys came in with knives. she
struggled against them. she was slashed from her mouth to
her cheek and suffered eleven stab wounds.

'you mean they just came in and attacked her?' i asked,
incredulous.

'yes. they just started stabbing her,' she said.

'maybe someone hates her,' i said.

'no, that's impossible,' she said. 'christine's a very nice
person. she's kind.'

'then why would anyone want to kill her?'

'some say it's her brother primus. her brother's more of
a...an evil guy. they say they probably killed her to get
back at him.'

. . . . .

i don't really know her but i felt the emotions building up
inside me. i felt my heart thud. i felt my throat
constrict. i felt the tears trying to climb up to my eyes.

am i sad? yes. am i angry? very. the injustice of the
situation breaks my heart. i feel like breaking down and
screaming.

and one question went on and on in my mind while i absorbed
the news. 'how do we repair the damage that we inherit?'
how can we repair the damage given to us?

somebody. tell me how. tell me how!!!!!

. . . . .

'have they caught the killers?' i asked.

'no they haven't. i don't think they ever will. the police
in the mountains don't even have the powder needed to dust
for fingerprints.'

'that's sad.'

'i know. i'm just glad they didn't kill the rest of her
family.'

. . . . .

coming home, i am reminded that the world is not a safe
place. and that life is fragile. and that good people
suffer because of the bad.

coming home, i realize that there is injustice everywhere.
movies always talk about the good triumphing over the bad.
the innocent given justice, the guilty given death. but
reality is far far away from the movies. reality is the
exact opposite of the silver screens. reality is raw.
painful. reality kills.

and they say home is where the heart is. home is where
reality hits closest to the heart.

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