For days now I’ve been trying to define this feeling.
This blow to our head, the cold in our heart, the despise for hatred, the warmth towards those in pain, the bittersweet thoughts. Trying to balance reason and hope, shock and reality. Our love makes us frail and strong. We don’t want to talk about it but we always end up thinking about it.
What we are experiencing right now is the very definition of grief.
I don’t know if we need prayers. I don’t know if we had it coming. I’m not even sure I care. I don’t know if I’m proud of my government, but I’m proud of the people.
We are super cool people. We make stupid jokes, we bake delicious cakes, we love the beautiful and we welcome the wretched.
We fought very hard to become the country we are today. It’s a work in progress and yes we are still flawed. We’re just human beings. Happy ones. Hopeful ones. Ones who killed their king to become free and equals. Ones who did not let religion, greed and fear rule their heart.
I do not approve of the « from paris with love » bombs. Because this is exactly what we stand against today. I know we are naive to think that free hugs and little hearts everywhere are going to change much. But we can’t give in.
Whatever happens, we are strong. This is not our first attack. This is not our first war. The history of Europe is a complete bloodbath. But we made it. So we’re going to keep doing what we are very good at : enjoy life. While it last.
So yesterday I took a walk in Paris. We can’t pretend things haven’t changed. But we’re still here.
We are going to spread those images of cute kittens.
And we’re going to listen to music. And headbang to dry our hair.
And we are going to eat funny food.
And we’re going to knit awesome yarns.
And smile. And dance.
Because mourning teaches us that we stand together.
And in the end, life is all that matters.