What You Hate Most

In the recent events over the start of the weekend of the shootings in Colorado I think having a post like this would be better than anything else. What do I hate most? I hate when innocent lives are being taken from us too early. I also hate a person with a gun. Two things go with these statements. When is it ever the right time to die? If guns are used for protection, how did a person the shooter get one in the first place? These two questions are hard to answer, but I had to let them out of my mind. What do I hate most? I hate death. I wish nobody would die, but would we want to live forever if we could?

I’m going back to a movie I recently watched called, In Time with Justin Timberlake and Amanda Seyfried. It was about a man who had days to live and watched everybody around him die. He rescued a man who had centuries to live escape from the “minute men” and as they escaped from them, the man and Justin’s character had a heart-to-heart talk about having all the time in the world and being able to live it slowly. For them, time was like money, the more they spent the less time they had in their lives. They stopped aging at the age of 25 and nobody got any older. Could we live in a world like that? Would we find someway to end it all and become “minute men” and take from the poor?

These people in the shootings in Aurora, Colorado, they didn’t need to die. What they were for was simple and innocent. Going to the midnight premieres at the movies is supposed to be fun, not traumatizing. Saturday morning I woke up and read pretty much every article I found about it on both Facebook and Twitter. I felt so sorry for the victims and their families. I can’t imagine their pain, but when I was reading these articles, I could get myself to cry. I felt selfish. Why couldn’t I get myself to cry for people who didn’t need to die? I even went on a young girl’s twitter’s page and read her tweets that can she had survived the shootings, but was so sad and worried. I did feel I could cry, but no tears flowed down my cheeks. Later on that afternoon, I read another girl’s Twitter page. This one didn’t make it and reading her tweets was just the icing on the cake. She acted like she was so excited but her night would become a nightmare for all. That is what I hate the most.