I don't sleep at night. There is just something about night that doesn't allow me to sleep. During the day, I'm constantly in a haze and only at night do I really wake up.
This indicates I'm a vampire right?
But a kick-ass vampire, not some Twilight-sparkling one.
Unfortunately, my life doesn't like me to stay up all night. Which could also be why I'm always in a haze during the day. And that I just prefer sleeping during the day. Night is just so quiet and isolating. No one is around and I almost feel free.
I guess this indicates I should get a night-job.
Anyways, I've been depressed lately. And a different kind of depressed, not the "Oh hey Kate, you look miserable as usual" kind of depressed.
I'm actually miserable by the state of the world. I say actually, because I've never really thought about it before. Yeah, I watch the news and if a puppy drowns or someone dies, I usually think "Oh god, that's horrible" but I move on (Actually the puppy drowning thing...no I would never get over that).
I recently finished reading the book "Zeitoun" by Dave Eggers. It's about a Muslim family going through Hurricane Katrina and it's a true story. And it was terrible. Terrible in a magnificent way and I can't stop thinking about it. Not just the fact that they went through Hurricane Katrina, but what the father had to go through during the aftermath. It made me so angry and astonished that it was even possible that it occurred during my life time. The injustices that he faced...I still can't really believe it. It was the sort of thing I read in history books. I know, racism, sexism...etc. still exists. They always will. But what he went through...There were police involved. He was thrown in jail. He wasn't allowed to post bail. What he went through was inhumane. And he was one out of thousands.
Then last week, the school newspaper reported that a sophomore killed himself on Saturday night by laying down on the train tracks that run through campus. The newspaper article was grim and the cover of the paper had a picture of the tracks where he was. The picture was daunting, and as one person put it perfectly "let's you imagine exactly what happened on Saturday night". And since then, I can't get the idea of this guy throwing himself at a train to end his own life as I walk by those train tracks all the time when I'm on campus and I've taken the train home many times. I googled his name and found the obituary, articles...all about who he was and what he meant to everyone. I started crying, even though I never met him. I can't imagine the way his family is suffering or his friends. And the way this will impact them, for the rest of their lives. If he had known just what an impact he had, I'm sure he wouldn't have done it. It made me reflect on my own life, the past, and the choices I made that I wish I could take back.
Then of course, I woke up today to the news of the earthquakes and tsunamis in Japan. For an hour, I just watched clips of the damage on my computer. Hundreds are currently dead and thousands injured, while so many people are lost or without a home right now. And here I was, watching the damage on the other side of the world, comfortably inside from the little rain outside. How can my problems be significant when someone is aching from loosing their homes and/or family?
I have survivors guilt and I haven't been present for any events that can compare. I have survivors guilt simply for being, while so many people are suffering. I can't shake the feeling.
Why have I been privileged?
And I guess all of this doesn't help by the fact that I started to re-read Anne Frank's Diary a few days ago.
Random thought of the day/night/early morning: What is a whiteboard exactly? Plastic? Something else?
