Tomorrow CaseAfter long and thoughtful consideration, I have come to a rather interesting conclusion.Even though the global population is soaring into the billions, with thousands of religions, languages, philosophies, and cultures represented, ultimately, there are only two kinds of people.
There are those who are certain the world is going to hell in a handbasket and those who believe the best is yet to come. (Actually, there is a third kind of person, who thinks traditional Irish dance is the highest form of creative expression but I really don’t want to talk about them.)
Now, it hardly takes a genius to point out that we already live in dangerous and uncertain times. Why, all you have to do is turn on the TV, grab a copy of the newspaper, or just take a look out your window. It ain’t a pretty sight. Best friends and former allies are suddenly tearing at each other’s throats, while unshakable economic powerhouses are crashing to their knees on a daily basis. You and I both know that good people get attacked in broad daylight all the time, but somehow the bad guys never get caught.
It seems that everywhere you turn there are psychotic egomaniacs secretly trying to spoil your fun, drive you crazy, and generally make your life miserable. Just for starters, there are shop clerks with way too much attitude, doughnuts with too much icing sugar, unbearably long tap-dance routines in the middle of your favorite old musicals, and the dramatic aftereffects of a dangerously authentic chili con carne that are made ten times worse because public rest room doors never lock properly anymore! Of course, heartburn is nothing compared to heartache. Even though we are frequently told there are plenty of fish in the sea, the truth is that most of us spend a great deal of our lives physically and emotionally isolated, feeling utterly alone. And if you do finally snuggle up to someone who seems perfect for you, you find out that they snore so loudly that your dreams need subtitles. You just can’t win!
If you listen to the professional doomsayers, they will tell you that’s barely the half of it. They say these are our darkest days, and the future looks bleaker than ever. They tell us again and again that evil lurks everywhere- in the streets, in the trees, in the media, in the air, in the water, in the corridors of power, even in your sock drawer- waiting impatiently to rise up when we least expect it and sink its venomous teeth into our most tender regions. And finally, they point out that at every office Christmas party there is always someone who feels compelled to do this! “It’s the end of the world,” they shout. “It’s all over!” Now, what I find so confusing is that if these stone-faced folk truly believe all the scary stuff they preach, why do they choose to keep on living? Okay, I freely admit that choking yourself to death is not nearly as easy as it sounds and I
I have no clue. It seems so obvious to me.
A few days ago, I was at my best when I saw Sarah Scott-Campbell in person. Scott-Campbell is the very embodiment of the truth: that there must be some dark side behind the man who is actually at work for some of these things (she is not a conspiracy theorist but just a guy who had worked for them):
My first look at her made me want to throw up. I can’t help thinking what is, is……
What is this about you that makes you so mad because you are so afraid, so scared. So afraid. And I can only feel you through all the ways you’re in control. And you know what I mean? Every time you’re in control, I feel as if I’m going to die and I’m going to feel all that pain.
So I went to Scott-Campbell and I was so scared. I took a second chance and I’m not sorry. I’m in love with you. I’m not the fucking paranoid, but I’ll tell you what I didn’t expect.
I’m so afraid, I’m so scared you’re not going to tell me.
At three weeks old, Sarah showed up on my doorstep. She was wearing a sweater and a hoodie like the ones in her older sister’s book and she was standing near me when it happened. She was shaking. There were so many tears. And she sobbed so hard that you could hear her cries out loud:
Oh it hurts!
It didn’t matter if I just went on. I did not want to have to tell people there were bad things about her. There was going to be a big fight soon. And I had to give my life for the world to know who these people were, and to see whether or not to tell them. I had to keep it real for a little while. I just wanted them to know that I cared. That there was the chance I wanted to fight back. I wanted to keep going.
It only made me cry when a friend of hers took a picture of me, so Sarah told me that while I was in the wrong room and just wanted to scream, “I’m terrified now!” and all of a sudden I remembered my family. I’m sorry they took this picture and didn’t want to watch it. I need to tell everyone. I needed to say what I had written myself. The day before the funeral, I sat in the car with my father. I read his little diary and I told him a story that scared me so much that I had to make my own, to show it to his friends when we stopped moving. I want to tell them of that terrible day, too.
I saw the letter to my father during the funeral. That’s when I remember something. I never heard the letter from my father as he was crying for what he meant to his family. When I read of my feelings I got so scared and very sad for him and me, and I kept walking, searching. There was only one letter he wanted me to read:â€That’s her letter. She’s dead. I don’t