Bad things happen to good people. There’s no warning, nothing. Things just happen. Too many people are lost in our lifetimes that shouldn’t be gone. Over this past year, it seems that the lives of people close to us are being ripped away. But death happens everywhere. We think we have our entire lives ahead of us. “We’re young, we have time left.” But life doesn’t work that way. Your life can be ended in an instant. It doesn’t take very much to kill us; we’re not invincible. We don’t have a shield of protection. We’re mortal.
I never understand why people become so jealous that they feel the need to bring others down. It’s okay to be jealous, but to a certain extent. You could want what someone else has, whether it’s a tangible thing or a state of being. You’re jealous that the spoiled girl in your class got a brand new car for her birthday, for instance, or her super attractive boyfriend. Or maybe you’re jealous that the person you can’t stand seems to be happy when you aren’t feeling very positive.
“We are not youth any longer. We don’t want to take the world by storm. We are fleeing. We fly from ourselves. From our life. We were eighteen and had begun to love life and the world; and we had to shoot it to pieces. The first bomb, the first explosions, burst in our hearts. We are cut off from activity, from striving, from progress. We believe in such things no longer, we believe in the war.”
In English, we recently began reading All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque and it’s quite different from anything I’ve read before. It’s a historical fiction, which I tend to avoid because it involves the word “history” and that has me running for the hills. The book is focused on war and one of the most prominent ideas expressed so far is this comradeship between the soldiers. Usually, the love in a book is between two individuals who feel a connection in a romantic way, but this bond between soldiers seems so much stronger.