What remains…

It happens very seldom that I have nightmares.
Even rarer, I wake up in the middle of the night from one of them.
But it never happened before, that I woke up from a nightmare and I felt so bad that I needed to throw up.

That is, until the night from Friday to Saturday at this weekend.
Since this was exactly what happened that night.

 Honestly, I have not the slightest idea why I’ve been dreaming about the terrible tragedy at the Pukkelpop festival in Belgium, because I’ve not even been there.

 Nevertheless, I have dreamed about it like I have been there. Have felt the hail, the rain and the wind. Heard the cries of injured and panicked people.

It was terrifying.
Rarely a dream I’ve ever dreamed was as real as this.

 After I got back from the bathroom, it took a perceived eternity before I fell asleep again.

Strangely, I dreamed again. This time of a key that belongs to my flat here, and its handle had been bent completely. This dream was a premiere, too since I have, as far as I can remember, never before dreamed of a key.

The two dreams and the thought about how disrespectful some people on Twitter had behaved on Thursday made me completely stay away from the Internet this weekend. Because I couldn’t have endured the nowadays unfortunately more and more increasing superficiality.

I still cannot understand at all how people could have had nothing better to do than making it a trending topic, that their favorite band should come to Brazil, in the face of the death of all the young people at the festival on Thursday.

Of course I realize that people are just the way they are, but sometimes I’m so sick and tired of the behavior of certain groups that I want to lash out. And I have the highest respect and a lot of compassion for the people who have to live with it every day.

Given the fact that I am a Sagittarius and known to shoot verbal arrows at times it might have been a good idea to control my temper, I guess.

So instead of messing around with God and the world, I preferred to pull me back into my shell, to reflect and to spend much time alone in nature.

Now I’m back in the virtual world and what a surprise, nothing has changed.

The same people give the same hollow and selfish comments as before. Complete mindless and thoughtlessly, without even taking the slightest regard to the feelings of the recipient.

In such moments I feel the burning desire to put all the said people into a sack and hit it. One would always automatically hit the right ones.

So what remains after such a disaster?
The general life goes on as if nothing had happened.
People are doing business as usual.
For it is the nature of man, because life is for the living.

Only the lives of the sufferers and survivors are no longer what they have been and probably will never be again. They will carry forever the terrible experiences in their hearts and souls.

But who really wants to know, in our oh-so-wonderful consumer world, where even people who are in the publics eye are more and more degenerated into products?

A few maybe.
I hope at least.

© Copyright The Storyteller’s Garden


About The Storyteller's Garden

Creature of the night ₪ ø ιιι ·o.
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