A Shooting
A man was shot yesterday across the street from my home. He didn't die, or hasn't died, and I hope he doesn't -- at least until he gets a chance to realize some more dreams. It was a drive-by, around quarter to eleven, and the police apprehended one of the suspects and found the gun and the vehicle used, driven by the other suspect. I came home about a half hour afterwards. There was a lot of police tape and blue flashing lights, but that's not uncommon. It didn't arouse a particular curiosity, other than with the flashing lights, which is purely aesthetic.
How do I feel about this (you, the therapist, ask)? Well, it's disturbing, but I'm not alarmed. The threat of death energizes my life. Is that cold to say that in this context? (You sideways nod.) Well, it's the city -- there is violence and people get shot, and those people have families, and getting shot is probably more bad luck than life decisions. I just hope that if we can't stop shootings entirely, that no one I know gets shot.
"Do you feel you know yourself?" you ask.
"Do you?" I ask.
"Yes," you say.
"Good job," I say.
I imagine it would be different if I witnessed the man getting shot, thumping the ground and bleeding. Or even if heard the shots and the screams, which I would have through my open window if my social life wasn't intermittently active. Thank God for friends. They've preserved a certain innocence.
How do I feel about this (you, the therapist, ask)? Well, it's disturbing, but I'm not alarmed. The threat of death energizes my life. Is that cold to say that in this context? (You sideways nod.) Well, it's the city -- there is violence and people get shot, and those people have families, and getting shot is probably more bad luck than life decisions. I just hope that if we can't stop shootings entirely, that no one I know gets shot.
"Do you feel you know yourself?" you ask.
"Do you?" I ask.
"Yes," you say.
"Good job," I say.
I imagine it would be different if I witnessed the man getting shot, thumping the ground and bleeding. Or even if heard the shots and the screams, which I would have through my open window if my social life wasn't intermittently active. Thank God for friends. They've preserved a certain innocence.
posted by JMH | 9:52 PM
8 Comments:
When I lived in Boston, I saw a girl jump to her death off a building. It wasn't pretty.
I have a pretty relaxed approach to death, too. I mean, it's life. It's mostly terrible to me if it was something really violent, or involving kids, or whatever.
I am really weird, though.
Duh.
Duh. Thanks for the quick comment. I appreciate the same night ones, makes me feel like I'm writing something interesting, which I hope I am.
Yeah. Death. It's there. It will always be there. I mean, let's acknowledge it.
You can't be veiled in a shroud of innocence forever. Would you like for me to shoot someone when you are home and the window is open?
No. But thank you for the offer. You're always very good about offering to shoot people.
Woah. Shootings are a pretty rare occurrence here..we have pretty strict gun laws. But of course they still happen,and when they do everybody is pretty shocked. Guns scare the crap out of me.
Death is a part of life yes.But being shot is a pretty unnatural way to die.
Thank christ for a social life! I don't have much of one at the moment, so gladly there aren't shootings happening on my street!
I'm so glad I'm not a nurse or something.My sister is a nurse and she has seen some of the most fucked up things. I couldn't do it.Thank god I'm crazy, so I'd never be allowed to be one anyway.
I do what I can.
...you hope that no one you know gets shot...and then,
"Do you feel you know yourself?"
What an utterly chilling question to ask just then!
That's my inner therapist for you.
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