I’ve been so bombarded with the aggravation I’ve been getting at work that I haven’t been able to take a moment to weigh in on the Virginia Tech shootings until now.

What can someone say, really, to such a senseless act? What factors could drive someone so far over the edge that he would meticulously plan a rampage that involved murdering innocent people, many of who probably didn’t even know him? After all, the pain and suffering he evidently experienced is something we all go through in life. I have certainly felt divorced and disconnected from the world, unloved and unwanted, but something like that would make me want to take a nice long nap on the train tracks, not go and shoot innocent people up.

I have to admit I’m a little annoyed by the collective response to this tragedy though, which reveals some of the deeper problems I believe ails our society. When a tragedy like this happens, we usually see candlelight vigils, rallies, and of course, those ever popular ribbon campaigns, all of which seem to serve no other purpose than to demonstrate how much we care (Ooooh, look at me, look at me, I’m wearing an orange ribbon, which means I’m a wonderful, caring person who actually gives a hoot!) There has even been a call for a day of silence where bloggers and commentators alike are encouraged to refrain from blogging, or commenting on blogs for 24 hours.

This always struck me as a rather self-indulgent, Hollywood way to convey sympathy to those who have lost loved ones so shockingly and tragically, even if it had been done with only the purest of intentions. But more notably, it runs contrary to what Christ taught us through Scripture on how our works of charity ought to be made. We are admonished by Him to do such works as secretly as possible, which would prove to ourselves (and to God) that such acts of kindness are not made with the desire to garner favor from others, but out of a genuine love and concern for others. That’s why I tend to see these public shows of support as the equivalent of what the hypocrites Jesus spoke of did, who loved to sound the trumpets and wait for a crowd to gather before they performed their good deeds.

It’s not to say these public rallies have no place at all, but I do think they’ve become embarassingly overemphasized in today’s day and age. That much was evident to me when I noticed the scarcity of sites that were offering drives to donate monies to the victims’ families (to pay for funerals, counseling, memorials, etc.). I only managed to find one so far, but there may be others as well. If you’re interested in donating, the school has created a memorial fund here:

Virginia Tech Memorial Fund

I think my very existence could serve as living proof that it’s possible for God to make mistakes. From my direction-less life to my uncanny ability to make bitter enemies in a nanosecond, I wonder if I’d be able to singlehandedly restore the natural order of the universe simply by walking in front of a moving train. Would it really be a sin for me to finally set things right by bringing about my own demise? Makes me wonder…

Anyhoo, the deadline for the two law schools I applied to is fast approaching. Even though I pretty much wrote off attending law school altogether, it became official for one school today when I mailed in my withdrawal notice. For the other school though, the deadline isn’t until April 13th. And admittedly, things have gotten a little interesting here. There’s been some ongoing changes at my job, part of what may appear to be the phasing out of our traditional nightly work load. If that’s the case, it’s possible my working hours will change from the evening shift to a day shift instead. And if that happens, it would render the issue of getting classes scheduled around my working hours during the day totally moot. I’d then be able to take all my classes at night without any scheduling conflicts at all.

This is all a BIG maybe though. Even if that did happen, I’d have to know for sure before the deadline, and on top of that I’d have to receive some confirmation from the LORD that this is what He wants me to do (yes I’m a Christian, and weirdly enough I would actually like to receive God’s blessing before venturing into a new and risky profession. If that freaks you out, then take some valium and sod off.)

I don’t think anything is going to pan out though, especially if I am to prescribe to my theory that my total existence thus far has been one huge cosmic mistake. But then again, there’s still a little part of me that hopes otherwise, and hope (as they say in the Shawshank Redemption) is a good thing… maybe even the best of things.

And for now, it’s all I have.

Last weekend my town had a Columbus Day festival, which culminated in a fireworks celebration Sunday night. I happened to get a good view of the fireworks from my apartment, so I watched for a few minutes… by myself of course. I could hear the faint sound of the cheers of delight in the distance by the spectators. I could have gone to the festival myself, but I’ve been in this town for a long time, and in that time I’ve made very few friends, while the rest were people I’d just as soon not see again if I could help it. I suspected some of those people were at the festival too. Ironically enough, the very first time they started the Columbus festival, I was a freshman in high school and played in the marching band for the Columbus Day parade. My love for the town’s fair (and for the town itself) has since waned over the years.

As I watched the fireworks, all I could think about was that I was watching it alone. I was a single rocket, firing off into a lonely sky. And yet, I used to love fireworks, especially as an adolescent. Today, it brings me nothing but pain. The pain of knowing I have spent so many years going to festivals, watching fireworks, hitting the movie theaters, visiting parks and beaches, and yet, doing it all alone, unable to share those experiences with that special someone.

So I couldn’t enjoy it anymore. Instead of taking in the dazzling display, my mind wandered to all those people at the festival, many of who no doubt were holding hands and playing suck face while the rockets soared. I burned with envy and hatred as hot as the fireworks that were currently going off, which soon gave way to a deep despair. There may have been a time when I enjoyed being single, but I realized that time has now come and gone, and now all I’m left with is a sense of melancholy that precludes me from being able to enjoy any of life’s recreations. In short, I’ve stopped living. I can’t go out and enjoy life anymore, because I know I have to do it alone. I’m tired of having to say “table for one” every time I have dinner somewhere, or take in a movie and be unable to discuss it afterwards. I was tired of going on vacation and doing romantic things such as taking a steamboat cruise, or walking down the beach, and yet having to do it all without “her.”

In years past, the despair I would feel at being alone was usually buffered with a sense of hope that soon, someday soon, my suffering would at long last come to an end, and I would finally meet the woman of my dreams. But as one year gave way to another, my hope began to wither and die. It’s no wonder I exhibit so little effort to take care of myself. The loss of hope has given me a loss of will to carry on. It’s like a slow way to commit suicide. I won’t do it outright, so by letting my health deteriorate, this is a round about way for me to accomplish the same goal. The world succeeded in crushing my spirit, and it seems I’ll never be able to recover from the devastation.

All that is left is to hope for either a miracle, or a death that will come sooner, rather than later.