Drive to the store. Jog through the neighborhood. Sit and wait for the bus. Get into the elevator. Get out of the bathtub. Cross the street.
Parachute from airplanes. Or tall bridges. Race cars in circles bumper to bumper. Climb mountains that have no business being traversed. Walk tightropes, swing trapeze, ride motorcycles to the edge of inertia’s limit. Dare every devil you’ve ever had just to see who will win.
Then cross the street while at work and get hit by a car.
Then go to work one day after 20 years and get hit by a car.
Then walk like you’ve done your entire life and get hit by a car.
There is no rationality in the world because random tragedy occurs and throws the everyday into chaos and pain. Just as there is no reasoning with how instant joy and the luck of fortune befalls us unexpectedly.
Peace only occurs when one accepts the world as it is: an uncontrollable and savage beast seething with violence, beauty, strength, sorrow, laughter and love.
It takes a sick and serious kind of strength to commit suicide. The adage of “it takes more courage to continue living” ain’t always true. To drag the weight of dark, personal burdens around like bodies in bags demands indescribable stamina. Everyone who is alive today is alive purely because they never had the nerve or the knack to actually follow through with killing themselves.
In India, there are people who, in the name of religion, gather en masse to worship and revel in their faith. They converge in temples that are usually antiquated and not designed for such large groups, so sometimes when they’re celebrating their relationship with god, tragedies occur. As in stapmedes, where twice in India this year hundreds of people were fatally trampled.
Unfortunately, human stampedes happen quite often, involving pilgrims, soccer fans and nightclub-goers all over the world.
But only in the great United States do people stomp on each other to death to cram themselves into a department store to buy things.
To celebrate their relationship with god.