Amy Winehouse just left us. She wasn’t planning on being famous. She just wanted to be a good musician.Her Demons got such a tight hold on her,she finally took her last breath here and left us. I think she was exhausted and beaten down by the constant terrible fight . She was a” Pink Knight,” as my new seven year, old soul, friend Sophia says. She kept battling for goodness. But she lost. And now we have lost such a Musical Troubled Brilliant Legend. It happens way too much.
What seemed like a good man, lost his dog ten days ago. There are signs begging for his swift return everywhere. There are signs on his car. You can here him still calling for his beloved pup at all hours of the day and night. Now there is a reward. $500.00. He was walking with one of his human friends and he wasn’t on a leash and he ran off. That was the last anyone who loves him…saw of him. Heartbroken. Many humans heartbroken with his puzzling disappearance.
Late last evening I was talking with my son on my blackberry by my bedroom window. We were talking about important life things. I heard these really loud noises. Like someone was throwing something hummongous away in the dumpster, or really big firecrackers, or something REALLY rowdy was going on below me. People celebrate here alot where I live, so I thought it abit unusual, but only mildly concerning, until I smelled gunshot residue. I have only smelled that one other time.
I ran out to the glass door balcony to see what I could see. Instead I heard a myriad of police sirens, almost in an eery harmonizing kind of way. Eleven cops, some with rifles, filed swiftly out of their cars. I was giving my son the blow by blow as the scene unfolded below me as if I was reporting in to CNN. It was someone else’s movie. Not mine. But it was mine. It looked like it could be a hostage situation. A young blonde caucasian man,eventually surrendered and was led very carefully to an awaiting police car. His hands were bound behind him in handcuffs. I felt this feeling that seemed inappropriate inside of me, that said. This young man is relieved. He is now relieved. I didn’t know what had transpired here at all. None of us did. We were all watching. Families with babies standing unusually close to one another. Huddled in silence. Watching from their balconies. It was like a movie. A movie on TV, only this movie was right in front of my eyes…where I live..where I call my safe haven.
I saw one of the policemen take the man out of the cop car and remove something from his neck, and put it in the young man’s front right pocket. It was dog tags. Why they call our military men’s badge of courage dog tags…is puzzling to me and feels demeaning at best. I found out later with all the rumours flying around the next morning, that the young man had walked into the apartment complex office that morning, and asked the gentleman at the front desk,if he had heard any complaints the night before, in regards to him. He said he had been “drugged ” and he didn’t remember anything. There were no disturbances reported said the nice gentleman at the front desk, and the white caucasian military young man walked out, said thank you and apparently looked relieved.
Did he have a flashback? He definately had a gun or a rifle. Or both. These were very very loud sounds of terror now that I can look back and know they were gunshots, not anything harmless. I think there were alot of them in a row. Like nine. Did he actually ask the cop to take his dogtags off when he stepped out of the police car? He wanted to make sure he didn’t have them snatched away from him at the precinct perhaps. Were these his only sense of security in the culture shock world he found himself back in? Did the WAR DEMONS of the night come for him last nite? Did they play tricks on his mind and heart and soul? Did they grab his gun and put him back in the deserts of Afganistan or worse?
Are we really sane to think we can send our strapping young men, who’s brain’s aren’t even totally developed by age 18….we send them into war to kill other human beings and we expect them to come back and go get a job? Really? Where is the help? Where is the love? Where is the justice for these freedom fighters? Will he go to jail? Will he get the help he deserves? Will he be let go with no charges and next time he has a PTSD attack someone will pay? Someone will be dead? A child? A grandmother? A brother? A human being?
Someone always seems to have to “PAY” for the injustice done to us. It is usually an innocent beautiful, kind, by stander. Someone who has NOTHING to do with the initial injustice. The perpetrator…the cause of the mental disorders….they are long gone. But some one …many times….many “someones” have to pay. Maybe some day, we really will have “Freedom and Justice for All”….but not yet. Not quite yet.