This is the first post I’ve sat and typed out in the aftermath of the atrocities in Tunisia.
It’s not what I had planned for today, but somehow ‘xx things that’ll instantly fix you’ didn’t seem quite right.
Because sure, a nap and chain-watching Harry Potter might fix you if say, your phone bill came through and was really big and made you feel really guilty and a bit panicked and then because of that you treated yourself to a sneaky burger at lunch and omg now you have food guilt AND spending guilt and you’re the worst, but it won’t fix you if you were caught up in Friday’s actions, or if a loved one was caught up in Friday’s actions.
And that’s why it feels pointless to talk about anything else. It feels pointless to write about my favourite pastel nail varnishes or my love for sleeveless blazers, because they are so trivial in comparison to everything else happening in the world.
The bloggersphere is usually a safe haven from anything too worldly or deep or political, it usually contains photos brightened to within an inch of its life and cleansers and juice recipes and fashion round-ups, but today, today I couldn’t bring myself to that.
Today I am writing about something real, something that’s probably taken up more of your waking thoughts this weekend than you even realised.
It took up mine, I spent a lot of time just sitting on the sofa checking Twitter for updates whilst Sky News whirred in the background. It’s just so, SO inconceivable.
Like, every time I think too much about it it gives me all those bad butterflies in my stomach and I feel sick and I think I might cry and I just don’t know how to snap out of it. It has given me a real fear and despair for the world that I don’t think I’ve ever had before.
Like most of you, I was just a kid when 9/11 happened – I remember where I was when I found out and I remember coming home to my mum and grandparents crowded around the TV. And when the 7/7 attack happened I was at an army activities day, I was 15 and had war paint on my face and two pigtail plaits and sure, it was big news, but I’d moved away from London, the Tubes weren’t something I was overly familiar with.
I’ve been alive for grave tragedy caused by terrorists, but they’ve never hit me quite like Friday did. There’s always been this distance between me and the event, like it couldn’t happen to me.
But sunbathing on a beach in an unknown country? That’s something I know seriously effing well.
That’s what gets me. It’s that idea of being so at peace and so relaxed thousands of miles away from office jobs and bills and social media and then being attacked. Everyone knows that beach holiday feeling. You find yourself looking out at the sea and thinking about all the positivity in your life, you feel good, you feel refreshed, you feel safe and at ease. Maybe you nap, maybe you cool yourself with a sea paddle, maybe you go chasing a Calipo ice lolly flavour we don’t have at home, maybe you read a book your pal leant you, but what you do not expect is for someone to ruin that bliss all in a few seconds.
And it’s that very image that stopped me being able to fully function this weekend. That’s made me feel like the stupidest, most self-obsessed person in the world for even thinking about promoting my own blog or YouTube. What’s the point?
It puts things in perspective. All we can really hope and pray for is our family and friends and loved ones. That’s it. Everything else is a bonus, and I think amongst the ASOS hauls and bids to get the best photos of peonies, we forget, we forget how easily life can be snatched away from us.
I’m not sorry for writing something a bit different today, after all, isn’t that why so many of us started blogs in the first place? To have somewhere to make sense of the emotions and thoughts whizzing through our brains?
I realise I have no place on commenting on something on such a huge, heinous scale that hasn’t affected me personally, but I just needed to write about what was actually in my head, and what’s actually important right now instead of trying to move on to things that feel so futile and first world.
Tell people you love them, buy the train fares over the shoes, and live for the sweetest of memories over the posessions, because you never know when your world will stop spinning.