I spent the evening at the Altar Bar last night. It was surreal, guilt-laden, and also a bit therapeutic in light of the recent Paris attacks. There isn’t anything I can say that will make any difference or impact, or even motivate anyone to be kind to each other. I have no better way to articulate my thoughts or make any better sense of this tragedy than the person before me or after me. I can post all of the pictures of the Eiffel Tower, but it doesn’t matter—connecting with others is what matters. The world is a scary place and I wanted to hug everyone around me last night, even the two Mona Lisa Sapersteins to the right of me, who, on a normal night, would have sincerely pissed me off.
Even them.
Music is the one thing that always helps me decompress and forget for a few moments about all that is wrong in this world. The fact that one of the attacks happened while people were only trying to do that same exact thing is horrifying, depressing, and gut-wrenchingly sad.
It was a somber night. I was there alone and while I really wanted to just be home with Henry and Chooch, standing in a roomful of strangers brought together by a love for music was like slapping a bunch of bandaids on the ol’ bleeding heart. The music was beautiful, tears were shed, there was a token drunk guy acting wildly inappropriate during Copeland. And somehow, in the midst of all of the chaos, there was a bright spot, a quick moment of hope and joy, when a man got on stage during Eisley’s set and proposed to his girlfriend. Sharing that moment with a roomful of cheering and crying strangers brought about a sense of humanity that really needed to be felt right then and there.
In lieu of hashtags and posting Paris vaca throwback pics, I just want to share music with everyone today. I know, I do that basically everyday; but really, it’s the only way I know how to connect and find comfort. If only things could be so simple.
Maybe I might hug someone today, too. Probably just Henry, though—let’s not go crazy.
I don’t pray, but I do cry a lot. And I’m not just crying for Paris, I’m crying for the whole goddamn world. Because it never really ends, does it?