Not Knowing; Regret

I clicked on my friend's name on Facebook to find out that she passed away nearly twelve days after I last messaged her on Facebook and email. We were more like acquaintances. I met Karena on November 11 of last year at Baruch. I actually regret not remembering exactly how we met. I'm unsure whether her friend introduced us, or I walked up to her for friendship. I regret not writing it down in my journal. However, I do remember meeting up with her at 5:30 P.M. after her class ended. We had lunch at the newly-opened Au Bon Pain two blocks from Baruch. It was my first and only time hanging out with her and really understanding the passion for music she radiated. She asked me to contribute a song to her music project, which I want to take on right now and continue, but I don't have access to her gathered materials. That week I wrote a song and recorded it with the friend and professional she connected me with. He would later help me record and engineer my first song on my inaugural album. She was so helpful to me, but I don't think I was equally helpful to her.


I regret not writing down the intricacies of her life. I only wrote down one or two things in my journal, but I know that she disclosed a lot more personal information to me that evening. It was one of the few times she could see her friends because her life was extremely busy. She worked for a department in school, and I can't help but wonder if the department set up a memorial for her. I wonder what will happen to her Facebook page and the little icon of a cellphone in the message box. I also seek closure and messaged our mutual friends to see if they know what happened to her. I'm not sure why I initially remembered her name earlier today, but I do remember not hearing from her since we last emailed each other. But it did not occur to me to text her even. I gave her that space simply because she was busy. It reminds me that I must cherish every little moment I have with my friends. Karena and I bonded over music; I was looking forward to collaborating with her and exploring photography with her because she wanted to put her lens to the test.


She had so much mental energy, diligence, and curiosity that I immediately knew that I wanted to be in her life. I wanted to be her inspiration and vice versa. I wanted so much to be closer with her in the following months. Tony ameliorated my confusion, anger, sadness, and guilt by coaxing me on the phone. He said a prayer with me for her and her family. These are the moments that put our lives into perspective. These are the moments that remind us the vitality of community and the ultimate truth that we should never take our lives for granted, with each other, and with ourselves. We should always be grateful for every little smile, laugh, field of conversation our friends provide us.


The latest farewell on her wall read "Many times, we think only that we are important and we live inside of our own world, that make us to forget that there are friends outside that need us. Sorry, Karena, for not being there to say goodbye." These words resonate throughout my body. There's a lump in my throat that tells me I had words I wanted to say to her, but I did not. The afternoon I attended her piano recital I hugged her but couldn't get a chance to say much to her. Now I don't have the chance to tell her what I wanted to say. What I wanted to say was: "Karena, you are an amazing pianist, you are sublime and deft in your craft. You blew me away so much that I recorded your performance and watched it again. I now understand your passion for music and that it's your projection of freedom. You have so many layers of emotion that come out in your performance. I want to be there when you express these emotions because what you feel, I feel, too." As I drift away into my own world I wonder why things happen and why there exist instances that are simply inexplicable, unexplainable. Tony and I forego the idea that everything has an explanation because really, we give things meaning, we attach meaning to things. Nothing inherently has meaning. The only thing to do now is to be happy for her and to cherish those moments I spent with her because she truly inspired me to be an active songwriter and a more expressive person. Her emotional energy impelled me to record that song and seek a closer bond with her friend whom she introduced me to.


Today was a somnolent day. I put myself in a tight bubble and walked around as if I was the only one who mattered. The world revolved around me and I would bump people off the sidewalk to get to my destination. I gained a fast pace and exuded a belligerent disposition on the train as well as in stores I entered. This is not how I usually behave. I am ashamed of my self-serving, self-entitled behavior. Most of all, I feel like a reckless member of society. Lately, I've adopted an idea of right versus wrong, which was met with arguments from Tony. Our postmodern society affords us an illusion of choice. We are inundated with choices on a micro-micro level. We have so many preferences for ethics and morals, and we are so particular in context that empathy and sympathy are words lost in this translational mess. Tony disagrees with me that there is a singular model of what's right and what's wrong. He emphasized the importance of empathy: stepping into the other person's shoes. Before I throw a tantrum or hit someone I really should turn the tables around---would I want to be hit or be spat at? How did this person feel when they hit me with their umbrella in a crowded subway train? Did this person accidentally hit me? Did he even know that he hit me? Do I have the right (not an individualistic, sole self-right) to yell at him and call him dirty names? All these questions accost me. Yes, I agree with Tony that empathy is important, but empathy leads to this incredibly pacific way of accepting ills that another person has done. This gets tricky especially if we commiserate with murderers. Yes there are murderers who murder because they were about to be murdered; their situations can be called "exceptions," or scrutinized from an intentional point of view instead of action-based POV. It is difficult to side with one person, either the victim or the assailant, but I do know that it wracks my brain when I think of the slippery slope consequences this particularism will have on millennials who have so many disparate values and ethics and morals. Justice has gone far from black-white model, yet it falls plainly on the very discretion and emotional response of human beings in court on that given day. When many cases of murdered black teens go unjustified, activists question the justice system. We are losing hope because we have fallen into the hands of judges and jurors who are swayed by sentiment rather than logic. But the catch-22 is How can we not be seized by emotion when someone is murdered, etc.? How can we react to these things logically when an assailant is free to roam the streets, or rampant injustice divides broken families even more?