Besides the closest people to me, I haven't said much about my life here, in France, during this past week. I don't usually say much anyways except through my occasional photography, video, and these posts. There is something so impersonal about writing a Facebook status, that is actually meaningless among all the others, which makes it so unattractive. I believe in taking time to reflect whether it's my own problems or something as grand as death. Just remember that these are my words, my feelings, and my knowledge that are reflected here.
To start off. I think it should be an obligation as an ethical person to look around and find out as much as you can from many different places about a subject as insane as this one. I cannot tell you how disappointed I am with the lack of miscommunication in people's exchanges with one another as a product of media, but also how narrowly minded others can be just because their ego is bigger than their back yard. For now, here is how I lived the last week.
Last Friday, I had many little plans that didn't happen. Friday is my day off from school so I try to work on my thesis, train multiple times, and simply try to do something I haven't had time to do all week (i.e. go explore new coffee shops in Paris). Time wasn't on my side so I had to make some changes; and so I chose to workout twice. By the time I was done, I was drained, no energy to do anything else. I decided to just go to bed early. Little did I know that staying up late was going to be inevitable. At first you tell yourself, "oh, there was just a shooting in Marseille, this is probably something stupid again...", but then you realize it is so much worse. Without rehearsal, my various groups of friends activated. We all made sure we were accounted for and stayed up until everyone was safe. That's when feelings started pouring in. No joke, it seemed like deja-vu, sitting on my couch watching some unholy men killing and holding hostages; it was just happening again. But I had to get up early, so I went to sleep as fast as I could. Throughout the night, I realized that people cared for me just as the whole world cared for France. Thank you to all the people who did. Even if I was quiet or didn't answer, I very much appreciated it. I think the next day for me was the worse because videos and pictures came out, I truly felt sick to my stomach. I felt like I was watching a movie. As the days passed by, my life didn't change much besides races being cancelled, security tightened up at INSEP, and it was all people could talk about. But I'm still sad.
Everyone here knows that more will happen. Lets be real, I have been to more minute of silence events in the last year than throughout my entire life. With death and horror comes acceptance and love. People will live their life the same way, maybe with an additional look over their shoulder, and that's the reality of it all. There isn't much we can do besides hope and pray (for some) that this was the end of an atrocious year. All I can say is that you should always give the benefit of the doubt to the one's you don't know, whether they fulfill you or disappoint you, that is their choice. We have become a mankind made of help, assistance, and understanding, so why stop now.
“There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it. But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.”
― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast
Beaucoup d'amour.
Here is a little film I made right after this all happened.
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