That's me, by the way. Cool, eh? And wishful thinking - no plans to return to London...
The last couple of days have been a rollercoaster of emotions.
Whilst I was enjoying the sun next to my pond Friday evening, glass of sparkling rosé near by, happy that the long working day was over at last, I received a phone call from an old colleague that one of the young men I shared an office with last year had been found dead.
That office wasn't the only thing we shared though...He was quite frank about his misgivings about the tough job we did at that innercity school, and about his lack of a love life, and about his wishes and aspirations.
And all of a sudden - gone. Twenty-seven.
Desperate for something to take my mind off this tragic event, I turned on the news. Only to be confronted with more sudden, useless and tragic death. This time in a mosque in Kuweit, on a beach in Tunesia and at some chemical plant in France.
What the fuck?
Sorry for swearing at you, but this puts me at a loss for words (and that is saying something!)
Another colleague of mine at that school, a devout muslim, explained to me last year that his holy book has a lot to say about forgiveness, care for unfortunate people, and more such noble things.
How on earth do "they" (generalizing here, I know, and I should not) equate this barbaric behavior on Friday with their teachings? It beats me.
And it saddens me.
And it makes me feel insignificant, for my thoughts on the matter do not matter one iota.
So. Anyway. Last night we had a huge party, as our school is celebrating its 25th anniversary. Yay.
I thought about not going. Then I decided I would go anyway. And there I met my colleagues, who had all thought about not going. And who went anyway.
And we talked about our departed friend, and about life, and decided that life should be lived.
Regardlessly.
And the band was amazing, so we danced the night and all sadness away.
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