I was feeling quiet and melancholy and reading The Danish Girl after a long week at school when my mother came downstairs and informed me that Paris was under attack. My initial response was obvious shock, but I remember it was a duller feeling than it should have been. For the past couple years or so of my life, as I became more aware of the world's happenings, I would hear of some act of terror every few months or so. Grisly details of school shootings overheard over breakfast, news of beheadings surfacing with lunch, and various other hate crimes making their way into the casual dinner conversation. Terror, death is not the rare tragedy it used to be. We've become desensitized to it, promised by the media that this time is the worst and this time things will change. Unnecessary killings happen daily, yet it takes one in Paris to hit home. When monstrosities like these occur, they make one wonder what the point is. What's the point of art; the point of fashion; the point of language and communication. What's the point of indulging in happiness when it could be stolen from you and replaced with so much misery in an instant? That's exactly the point. The point isn't to live life in fear, but to life life in spite of the fear. The attacks on Paris weren't personal attacks on those innocent people, but instead on the nation's way of life as a whole. The response to any attack on a way living should not be to shrink back in fear, but to rise up in unity. The point of life is to be lived and any attack on that should make one grasp onto that even more, as the people of Paris and the world have been doing.
Original photo from Ashley Hicks' Instagram.