“And now we’re supposed to go back to our normal lives. That’s what people do. They have these amazing experiences with another person, and then they just go home and clean the bathroom or whatever.”—~ Susane Colasanti, When It Happens (via conflictingheart)
There’s a kid who said he’d donate a benjamin to my Honduras charity fund “for a kiss” and actually put in like $5 and I thought it was a joke but he keeps reminding me every 2 weeks and now that I’m doing Dance Marathon and want $$ again.
Remember that post about where WTC workers were on 9/11? Some were running late, there was some traffic, one guy called in sick, a barista had to remake a latte, some lady’s kid had the flu and she couldn’t come in… all on that fateful day that they weren’t killed.
That’s how I feel about Kappy. If we didn’t pass out beforehand. If Shelly didn’t want to leave early. We would have been there when the shots were fired. Imagine if anybody else was lost… Like Don, before him and Shelly had proper closure. Or Eman, who was right next to him and more targetable (why would you not take out the strong hunky black dude?). And most of us getting home safely, instead of driving back hungover and possibly getting trapped in bumblefuck Midwest by the snow. How we witnessed a room full of strangers from all over the country come together and realize we are not so far from each other after all. We bonded over Kappy. There’s a blessing in disguise in every tragedy and we just have to look for it and be content. That’s what he would have wanted us to do.