Today, I understand.

I understand loneliness. I understand why people are thrust into desperate measures to find that someone, that person who is theirs like no one else’s, that person who is their person.  I understand we cannot survive alone. I understand why I feel the need…not to be alone. I understand that the odds are in favour of despair. That we just fight for our joy, that we must fight. I understand people, the conflicting needs to get ahead of other people, and of needing other people. I understand we are scattered, alone, selfish, insecure, needy, hungry. All searching for, wanting, the same thing, few willing to give it. I understand we can no longer think of empathy, hardly of sympathy. That money is important, and war, and that little piece of land. I understand we have forgotten that people are important. Not all of us, though. I remember that there are people, Brandons in New York, and elsewhere, trying to make us remember what we have forgotten. I hope that they succeed.

I understand why image is important. I understand that we have moved away from the time-if at all there was such a time- when we judged by substance, where our word was enough, when careers dedicated to finding loopholes or perfecting eyebrows did not exist.  When we spent time on things, on people, when things did not have to be accompanied with flashy signs of “breaking news” to capture out attention. When books were read.

Today I understand why people hurt others, and themselves, why sometimes a fatal leap into the unknown can seem better than what we see and know. I understand that your perspective will always be different from reality- that no one really sees reality. I understand that we cannot avoid sadness. There must be death with birth, despair with joy. I understand that despair can easily kill the joy. That we speak more of rape than of making love, or even sex.

I understand that there will be moments of joy, gifts from life. I understand that life is a harsh, miserly master. That these gifts must be seized, treasured and remembered. That these gifts are important, these moments worth all the hours of hell.

~Sam