I sit here trying to read through my notebook…the stories from Haiti…I get through a few pages of my notes and feel this sadness…my throat tightens slightly...I’m tired, but I don’t want to go to sleep. It’s not time to go to sleep. I miss the simplicity of Haiti. My friends there were better than myself. They really were friends. I miss that feeling of not caring about anything outside of my situation, outside of the here and now, that was all that mattered.
Why are we so preoccupied with everything that’s not in our control, everything that’s not now?