Observing chaos from a safe distance

It hasn't been long since my last post, but I feel compelled to try and write something about the situation in Japan. Is situation the right word? Carnage possibly describes it better. When I first heard about it, I had just arrived at work on Friday. I got very little work done that day. I was compelled to keep watching, hoping for something but I had no idea what. What was I hoping for? That the scale of tragedy and destruction wasn't as bad as it looked? Seeing the video footage of the tsunami hitting; it was painfully obvious it was going to be a total catastrophe, and me watching and hoping, and the millions of people praying, would not change that.

There has been constant news feeds about it all over the weekend, I've caught it when I can, the first thing I do when I put the computer on is see if there has been any major updates. It's bizarre, because for the rest of the day I have been going about my business, same as usual. The concept of me, going to the shops, visiting my family, sitting here right now, writing this in my pyjamas, with nothing major happening anywhere around me, while somewhere else in the world is millions of people, surrounded by chaos, is kind if mind blowing. For them, their shops have been destroyed, they don't know whether their families are alive or dead, thousands of them lost their homes, their livelihoods, and most likely loved ones.

I woke up this morning and saw the new pictures, old men, young children, mothers, brothers, daughters, everyone in the affected areas totally devestated. Alive, but with no idea what life will be like from now on. Amongst them, thousands of people lay, tragic victims of perpetrator who will never face justice.

Perhaps one of the saddest realisations I have had, and what I am trying to convey here, is that once this post has been finished, and I have done my moral duty; reading/watching of the coverage for the day, I will close my laptop, turn off the television, and step out into the world, where the sun is shining, and birds are tweeting, hop on a bus and soon be with my family, eating a lovingly prepared lunch. I'll carry on my day as normal, because there is nothing else I can do.