生きる

And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms farther… And one fine morning —

— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby


And perhaps similar to the feelings of a victim of rape, the hardest, and maybe saddest, part of this is the recognition that whoever disappeared with my grandmother’s bracelets, my hard-earned dollars and pieces of my identity stole something else, something that cannot be replaced: they stole my spirit. I get angry when I realize I will never again be who I’ve always been before, someone who lived strong and free by the creed that people are essentially good, that if you think optimistically, trust others, and have faith in the world around you, it will take care of you in return. Those who know me have witnessed the way in which I have always lived: with a belief that if I live my life in the best and most way honest way possible, everything will be ok. Yet in the breath of a moment, that just… disappeared. I have no faith anymore. I don’t trust anymore. I don’t know if I ever will again.

— Violated: A traveler’s lost faith, a difficult lesson learned

(Source: ejroundtheworld.blogspot.com)