And we have lost it.
These cities, these states, these people will never be the same. Ever. Nor will any of us, really. Subtle changes are occuring as we speak, whether you notice them or not. You see, generally speaking, there are the haves, and the have-nots. I have begun to see people differently of late.
There are the dos, and the do-nots.
The dos, whether you live in a billion dollar estate, or you're an 8 year old depending on your weekly allowance of $5, are doing something. They're donating money. They're donating time. They're breaking down and crying in the break room of their office, devastated at the loss of life and humanity.
The do-nots are so caught up in their own meager, pitiful lives that all they can be bothered to think of is whether they can afford to go out drinking this weekend.
You get my meaning?
I don't care who you are. I don't care where you live. I don't care what you do or how much you earn. I don't care what you might have been to me, because these subtle changes have effected me as well. Unlike the tsunami in Asia, there seems to be a general apathy that has afflicted those around me. And no, this isn't some nationalistic bias. I have gotten more phone calls and emails from international friends and family than local. As a whole, I'd have to say the international community is more aware than the national community, at least from my experience.
What is this? What is this disconnect that people have become so adept at practicing, they cannot even drop it when a crisis of this magnitude strikes close to home.
My ex-boyfriend, safe at home in Norway, is organizing a skate show. All local skaters participating for no payment, all proceeds being donated to the Red Cross.
My current boyfriend, studying hard at Oxford University, has taken up a collection and is organizing a pub crawl, again, all proceeds going to the Red Cross.
Friends and family around the globe are donating the the Red Cross, to their local churches and charities, in an effort to help us out.
Yet when I called a friend last Sunday night, to ask if they had gotten in touch with relations in the south, they didn't know what I was talking about.
When I told another friend last night that I had asked my grandma to put their family on the prayer list at her church, because hey, when you haven't heard from your brother and sister in law in a week, any prayers from any gods are fucking worth it, he says, "Yeah, well, we never did get along anyways."
What. The. Fuck.
You know what, fuck you.
Fuck your job. Fuck your car. Fuck your house and your Visa bill. Fuck your boyfriend. Fuck his baby-mamma. Fuck your designer shoes, your $100 jeans, your carefully distressed t-shirts. Fuck your yoga class. Fuck your manicure appointment. Fuck your drinking habit that isn't an addiction [yeah the fuck right it's not].
Fuck you.
You know why? Because you're trash. You're waste. You're no better than the vultures that are down there with their news cameras, folding their arms and looking concerned and coming up with ingenius sound bytes about how "Hurricane Katrina came ashore like she had a score to settle with the city of New Orleans.' [Actual quote as heard on CNN]. You sit around, and you whine, and you act like you care, but the only thing you really care about is how much the price of gas is going to go up because of this.
People have died. People WILL die. Homes and cities and histories are LOST FOREVER and in a week or so, it will be a blip on the radar. A minor annoyance that you'll only think about when you're gouged at the pump. And soon, that thought will fade as well.
So fuck you. Die. Seriously. I'm not working a hyperbole here. I actually wish you the most painful death that could possibly strike you down. At the very least, disappear. I don't want you in my life. Disa-fucking-ppear.
Now, don't take this as a sweeping statement about everyone I know, because it's not. I know great people that are going above and beyond to help, so touched are they by the suffering that is still going on, and WILL go on for many, many months.
I know 6 year old and her 4 year old brother, too young to know the true devastation, but old enough to understand that a really bad storm hit somewhere, and while they're safe, there are a lot of kid and families that lost everything. The 6 year old got in a fight with her parents as to whether she could box up every last toy, including her Bankie-Bear [because he's the most specialist for hugging, so he HAS to go] to send to the kids that lost their toys. Instead, it was agreed that she could set up a Kool-Aid stand every weekend for as long as she liked. Her brother helped to paint the sign that says "Help the Red Cros! Bye Cool-Aid!"
I know a recently graduated nurse that has flown down, leaving his wife and daughter in the care of family while he helps out wherever he's needed, along with local doctors that have joined the effort.
I know a local band that is cutting a CD and planning to sell it, eating the cost entirely so the money can help out.
Do what you can, how you can. Just quit the apathy already.
And just take a few moment every morning to send thoughts, prayers, faeries, or vibes to the people suffering.
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