All I hear is sirens, in a world so violent. 04/03/22-05/03/22

Tonight I spent most of my Friday Night with one of my best friends. An eventful night it was. We spoke of many things in regards to our life, our reflections and the world itself.

The only silence we both shared was the moment we saw multiple police cars at the entrance of our close friend’s apartment building. We weren’t alarmed at first, as the Central Business District of Melbourne is usually flooded with flashing lights on the weekends, it wasn’t until we approached the crowd and saw a dead body.

Whether it was a man or woman (or any gender for that matter), it was a human being, covered with a grey blanket, surrounded by cones, tape and curious bystanders. We were one of them ofcourse, worried for our own friends that lived at that same building. We were relieved to know that they were okay and knew nothing of the incident.

As shocking as this event was, I feel guilty to say that I didn’t feel a thing.

I was worried, sure, but for my friends.

I was shocked, sure, for it to be right in front of me.

As I thought about it more, I hate to say that it almost brought me peace.

Not in a sadistic type of way, but it brought to my attention the pain and suffering of all who claim to be alive. I’m not insensitive to death, nor am I sensitive towards it.

The only form of conversation I can build around it is curiousity. Questions.

What happened?

Who was it?

Why did it happen?

When did it happen?

How did it happen?

These are the questions we ask as soon as a death arises to our attention. Why do we ask these questions too late? Why do we wait until the last straw to finally ask these questions? We don’t ask because most of us are already dead inside. We just need that final certification to declare it.

Our time on this Earth is limited. We carry burdens, grief and self pity of pains from daily life that we constantly complain and choose to allow these emotions to define us in our own lives. If that’s what a life is meant to be, then we may as well be all dead.

I saw that death in front of me as a blessing in disguise. Call me insensitive, but whoever was under that blanket, they were fighting a burden larger than they can bare to the point it consumed them whole. Whether it be their choice or not, that person is now and forever in peace. Away from the troubles they may have not been able to conquer.

But, why should we only care NOW that this person is gone? Why didn’t we care sooner to have avoided this in the first place? That’s the problem with our society.

We care too late.

Before making assumptions about this perspective, ask yourself would you have cared about this person randomly walking past you on the street? If they were to tell you of all their troubles, would you lend your hand and go out of your way to help them with your maximum 120% effort? It’s okay to say no. Because that’s who we have become, a society that is ignorant to the screams of others begging for help.

It’s subtle. It’s quiet. It’s heartbreaking.

The issue isn’t the death, the issue is our actions.

For whom that is closest to you:

don’t extend that hand too late, don’t dwell on useless issues that lasts 24 hours, don’t let negativity cloud the kindness we all keep deep inside. Before it’s too late, ask those questions now to those who mean most. You will be surprised with the responses you receive. Every single life is battling their own secret war.

Remind them you will assist them with their battles NOT against them.

Be kind and grateful for the world around you. Our time is ticking, make each moment count for your loved ones, family, friends and most of all for yourself.

Fight through the war, don’t let the war fight through you.

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