Friday, November 16, 2007

apathy

One of the days in the past blurry, sickness-infested week or two my Hebrew teacher was talking about how war brings about some measure of apathy with regards to the horrors. In passing, she made reference to a debate that goes on about whether this is a weakness or strength. Being a relatively apathetic person myself - though with strong opinions always, of course - I value any kind of emotion and see it here especially as a form of loss in the humanity of the situation to allow yourself to become accustomed. However, having lived in Israel during the Intefada at the turn of the century, I have to say that in spite of it all, there really is no other way to deal with something of such magnitude. At some point what it came down to was waking up every morning to more news of bombings. The question, rather than "Was there anyone hurt?" became instead "Was anyone I know hit?" Within a year of coming back to America I watched my sister speaking to a former classmate over the phone, trying to identify in her memory one of the recent victims in her school. She burst into tears when she finally figured it out. Dreamed about the girl afterwards, too. Apathy's a tricky thing; you never know what'll burst through the wall, and when it does it's ten times as bad as what you remembered.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

I was inspired, so I wrote. In an amazing feat unparalleled in the past few months, I even finished the piece. So I sent to my sister, who had been satisfactorily critical of a former piece I had shown her.

She had the same criticism as last time.

I am depressed and suspect that I am not nearly as good a writer as I thought I was.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Unfortunately, I have had several times where I met a person a precious few times before they quit this world and moved on to the next. I try and try to understand why it was that I needed to meet them, those few insignificant meetings, and then the sudden announcement out of the blue. This week was one such situation, when I called my father to ask him a question and he told me that his good friend's son had been found dead after ODing. I just don't get it.