life
Perhaps I am a Hassidic Jew by heart. The Hassid feels the weight and suffering of the world in a way that the world does not understand. The Hassid carries the weight of the world. I have come to understand this through reading "The Chosen," a novel by Chaim Potok. It is a beautiful novel.
I have come to relate to this through events that have transpired today. I knew a boy once. His name was Beau Baltzer. You do not forget a boy with such a name. We did not know one another well, but we competed with one another in athletics with regular occurence from the age of eleven. We knew one another by name. It was often a bitter rivalry. He played football for a rival school. He was a star defensive lineman. I was a star running back. It was only natural that we did not really like one another. I did not hate him. I just did not like him. Well, how can one really dislike a boy with the name of "Beau Baltzer?" Of course I liked him. I was probably jealous.
Beau died. The circumstances of his death are somewhat muddled, though I know through a reliable source that they are not at all happy. How can we be so cold? How can we be so bitter toward one another? How can we be so misunderstanding, so stupid, so fucking selfish?
I need to go for a walk.