Reflections from the road in midst of the assault at Brussels.
Thick, dark red, gooey ketchup drips from my hands during lunch, looking down at first glance you would think it could be blood and I think about those in Brussels, only 4 hours away. I’m outside the Louvre, in the Carrousel du Louvre, having a quick snack before returning for to the galleries. Two days ago the first casualty of the attack was another South American woman, like me. Two days ago I flew safely from Dublin to Paris under tightened security.
Tapia Ruiz was a Peruvian lady traveling with her family en route to NYC when, as Potus calls, “outrageous attacks” occurred.
We never know our time, we’re not meant to. Our bodies are just rentals, only our love can live forever.
So now do we have a city at war or is the world at war? When a bomb goes off do you run to the exit or do you run to help? We need to weave ourselves into each other and instead of watching other people live their lives, we must fully live ours. We live a world with terrorists, already in 2016 the world has had an estimated 239 terrorist attacks. I know Isis employs beasts but I also believe there are humans among them, but so too are we beast when we don’t rise to the occasion.
Talking to a few people in the hostel we share a similar view that if we were to travel so far and come such a long way to meet a similar fate then that’s how it was meant to be. Nearly every day in Florida for two years I drove i-75, which averages speeds of 80 mph, among a mix of snowbirds, tourists and natives and that road is deadly. But what is more deadly and sad and perhaps even worse then lives lost, are lives lost of those who never fully lived.
If anything happens to me out on the road, let me not be a memory.
And know that if I go down, I’ll go down with a fight.