...after the flood all the colors came out.

A few years ago, when I was staying in California with my extended family, I was in the emergency room with my aunt, who was/is a nurse in the hospital. It's a pretty big hospital, the Harbor-UCLA Medical Center, and the ER was fairly packed while we were there, even though it was early in the morning on a weekday. It was gonna be awhile before I could be seen, so while we were waiting, I had on my headphones, I was listening to Beautiful Day by U2. We had actually started talking to a few of the people next to us a little earlier. I remember there was a man we were having a conversation with; he was telling us why he was there, along with a couple of other personal things regarding his life, like his financial status. It seemed like he was barely making it by, he definitely didn't have very good health insurance either. He was a diabetic, and he was getting so ill that his extremities, his toes, were literally starting to deteriorate. It looked like they were infected, and I believe he was there to receive another treatment, maybe antibiotics. I can't recall the exact medications they were going to give him, all I know is that he was in severe pain, but he wasn't complaining about it. The only reason why I know is because we inquired about how he was feeling, and then he let us know the severity of his pain. It definitely looked like he was suffering; It was easy to feel bad for him.

Anyway, that's the background story. So, going back to when I was listening to Beautiful Day by U2... The guy we were having the conversation with earlier could hear the song, probably because I have a bad habit of listening to my music on the highest volume level possible. Upon hearing the chorus, he sang along a little, then mentioned how much he loved it. Then he pointed out his favorite line in the song, "what you don't have, you don't need it now..." He said that even though times are tough for him, he reminds himself of that, even if he doesn't feel that way -- when it seems there are too many things he needs but can't have. I was humbled. I can be an ungrateful person. It's awful, and I personally don't like it. Honestly, these days when the thought of complaining first enters my little head, I remember that guy in the ER. I realize that I want to be more like that in my way of thinking, and I try to revert my thoughts so that I focus more on what I do have instead of what I don't.

A few hours later, while we were still in the waiting area, I could hear a mother crying. Her teen son had just been shot. It was devastating, even for me, someone who couldn't even fathom what it's like to lose a child. This happened a little while after that conversation we had with the guy in the waiting area. My eyes were opened again, this time to something slightly different than before, though. This kind of suffering happens all the time, it's the awful truth. In our little worlds, most of us are shielded from this and we're even ignorant to the suffering of others. So ignorant, that we often neglect those who are hurting worse than us. It is also true that we all live in an imperfect world, though, so each of us has experienced a hardship at one point or another, that's partly why we can feel bad for someone when they hurt.

Anyway, these events came to mind today when I heard Beautiful Day. Then I felt like writing something about my own experiences with pain and hope, so I wrote a poetry slam type thing. I haven't done one in so long. The ones I wrote before sound more like a slam, this one reads more like a poem, but I want to post it on here anyway.

Control slipped away years ago.
I learned how to speak long after letting it go.
Still, I never met the life that was not mine to know.
A world where double-negatives were acceptable,
But running on empty was never a way to stay whole,
Even though the incompletion would take its toll.
It created the incentive that would allow for something better,
Remember, back then, it was about biting harder on the leather
And sealing the future's hope with nothing but a prayer,
It was my alternative to alcohol for staying sane
My dad didn't teach me how to play that game.
He failed by using shots to water down his pain.
So God was my father when mine wasn't around.
Even when I could barely keep my feet on the ground,
The peace of my faith was the only kind to be found.
I paid the consequences for mistakes my parents made
A few times, it almost took me to the grave;
I offered a hand, but they couldn't be saved.
I crawled out of the nightmare awake and alive,
Leaving nothing but the waging battle behind.
Now, eyes closed, I go back to that time.
But I can wake to a life that's easier to handle,
Happiness doesn't die in the wind like a candle.
Love healed the wounds I received in the battle.
So I say to you with open eyes
Reading the words composing these lines,
It's more than just a matter of time.
It's about believing in something greater than evil,
Keeping it to show that even the enemy couldn't steal
That grain of faith that will allow you to heal.