On tragedy.
I'll never truly understand why tragedies happen. I'll never comprehend the inner workings of a mind that belongs to a killer. Why does it feel strange to call him that? That's what he is now, right? A murderer. A monster with a boy's face.
A boy, barely older than myself. So lost and confused, lonely and sick. Or perhaps, just plain evil. Conniving and bloodthirsty. There's no way to know, is there?
What he did is unforgivable. That's all people care about. Of course, no one cares to know about the man underneath the sin. But I wonder. I can't help it. I sit in a movie theater for the first time since the Aurora shooting, uneasy and distracted, trying to pay attention to a well-told story of hope and heroes, and I wonder... What could have possibly happened to this boy during his lifetime that would cause him to lash out in such an unthinkable way? What could have led to his believing that human life is disposable and worthless? It might have been from a place of anger or hatred. Some twisted form of entertainment to fill an emptiness inside of him. A cry for help masked by a horrifying deed. But what does it matter? Twelve people are dead, and that's the end of it. Or is it the end?
What becomes of this man and his victims? The victims' loved ones? Does life ever really go on for those affected by the tragedy, or do they find themselves at a standstill, unable to accept the past? Fear permeates the hearts of some, I'm sure, and others perhaps grow stronger because of it. But what does it all mean, exactly?
These are all honest questions I have. Tragedies happen every day, and there's no way to make sense of them. No way to forget about them. Questions linger, never to be answered. At least, not in our lifetime.
I stand by my conviction that everything happens for a reason. Which is not to say that this act of terrorism was always meant to play a part in some predestined plan—no, violence is a result of the absence of love within men, and therefore a rejection of God's plan—but that the repercussions of it might somehow be used for good, to steer us in the right direction of His loving arms. Even though it is beyond our human understanding to know how or why, I truly believe that He provides us with light to make our way through the darkness. Because as cliché and insensitive as all that may sound, it's the only thing that calms my own fears and gives me hope for a better tomorrow.
Strolling through Oxford.
I've learned three things so far about my new home for the summer: The streets in Oxford are alive and bustling with people about ninety percent of the time. There's a centuries old cemetery right in the middle of the college town. And no matter what the sky looks like, you're almost always going to need your raincoat. I think I could get used to this.
London, in real life.
I finally made it, y'all. The city is even more beautiful than I imagined, more magical than I dreamed it would be. I still can't even believe I'm here! So much exploring has yet to be done, but I managed to snap some shots of Westminster Palace, the London Eye, Westminster Abbey, and the Globe Theater (where we saw a production of Henry V) on our first trip to London. It was a short trip, but I'm already looking forward to the next one... I can't wait to really dive in.
P.S. Tonight, the Olympic torch is passing through Oxford! A group of us are planning to walk over to a nearby pub to catch all of the action. More photos to come!
From the airport.
All good things must come to an end.
Do you ever find yourself in a post-vacation slump? That's what I've decided to call my current state. It's only been three days since I got back from Gulf Shores, and I'm already having withdrawals. I wish I never had to leave behind the familiar rush of the waves and that pink evening sky. I miss playing card games with the family, eating birthday cake after every meal, and holding my baby cousins close to my heart. Drinking coffee on the balcony first thing every morning, trying my hand at tennis and racquetball, and reading Catching Fire on the beach. Yeah, that's the life.
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