It's common today to feel for the anguish of the Iranian people. It was humane, yesterday, to mourn for the Virginia Tech casualties. Two decades ago, we thought that the world changed its polarities while the Iron Curtain was falling. A few centuries ago, the French revolution killed its creator, Danton.
This morning, I developed a new phobia. The only phobia I acquired. Freedom. Fear that once one fought for liberty, the scars of war are only deepened by not achieving what one was wounded or killed for. Anguish that a revolution is locked in a perpetuum mobile mode, a state bringing only adrenaline and nothing more. Hope crushed by lead, teeth biting the baton while spelling 'forever'. Ephemeral as the child's play, brutally ended by a mother's call to dinner. The revolution, thus, represents just the will to change the seats only.
We all cry for change yet we do not know what change is. As children, we wanted to play forever but with every day that passes through our consciousness, we become fierce advocates against our innocence's desire. A suicidal behavior that today manifests itself on the streets of Tehran.
The leader of The Free World reassures the people of a country who are in the streets that we are bearing witness. Witness to what? Our capacity to consider ourself and each other like debris on the shiny marble floor? Indefinitely holding suspects just because on our scale of danger they represent the A+ students?
A religious or atheistic society that entraps its citizens it is a society speeding toward collapse. There's no difference between the riots in Tehran or the shooting of a human being by a cop in a Sacramento subway. A society who has those kind of individuals, has already failed. Yes, but we'll bring him to justice in our free society, one screams. Well, you are going to retaliate against the killer by doing what the perpetrator did. Murdering the slayer in a “humane way”. That is not the answer to the problem but the root of it. Making murder appear humane, ruining the foundation of humanity by reasoning the committed atrocity.
So, what is then? Not much. The answer must com from oneself… knowing that, Death is not a tragedy but a fruition of life. How it arrives sometime, however, it's tragically absurd.